"We knew you'd be pleased, dear," her mother said, nodding. "He's such a good-looking boy."
"But I don't want to marry Prince Therandil," Cimorene said.
"Well, it's not exactly a brilliant match," Cimorene's father said, frowning. "But I didn't think you'd care how big his kingdom is."
"It's the prince I don't care for," Cimorene said.
"That's a great pity, dear, but it can't be helped," Cimorene's mother said placidly. "I'm afraid it isn't likely that you'll get another offer."
"Then I won't get married at all."
Both her parents looked slightly shocked. "My dear Cimorene!" said her father. "That's out of the question. You're a princess; it simply isn't "I'm too young to get married!" "Your Great-Aunt Rose was married at sixteen," her mother pointed out.
"One really can't count all those years she spent asleep under that dreadful fairy's curse."
"I won't marry the prince of Sathem-by-the-Mountains!" Cimorene said desperately. "It isn't proper!"
"What?" said both her parents together.
"He hasn't rescued me from a giant or an ogre or freed me from a magic spell," Cimorene said.
Both her parents looked uncomfortable. "Well, no," said Cimorene's father. "It's a bit late to start arranging it, but we might be able to manage something."
"I don't think it's necessary," Cimorene's mother said. She looked reprovingly at Cimorene. "You've never paid attention to what was or wasn't suitable before, dear; you can't start now. Proper or not, you will marry Prince Therandil three weeks from Thursday."
"But, Mother-" "I'll send the wardrobe mistress to your room to start fitting your bride clothes," Cimorene's mother said firmly, and that was the end of the conversation.
Cimorene decided to try a more direct approach. She went to see Prince Therandil. He was in the castle armory, looking at swords. "Good morning, Princess," he said when he finally noticed Cimorene. "Don't you think this is a lovely sword?"
Cimorene picked it up. "The balance is off."
"I believe you're right," said Therandil after a moment's study.
"Pity; now I'll have to find another. Is there something I can do for you?"
"Yes," said Cimorene. "You can not marry me."
"What?" Therandil looked confused.
"You don't really want to marry me, do you?" Cimorene said coaxingly.
"Well, not exactly," Therandil replied. "I mean, in a way. That is-" "Oh, good," Cimorene said, correctly interpreting this muddled reply as No, not at all. "Then you'll tell your father you don't want to marry me?"
"I couldn't do that!" Therandil said, shocked. "It wouldn't be right."
"Why not?" Cimorene demanded crossly.
"Because-because-well, because princes just don't do that!"
"Then how are you going to keep from marrying me?"
"I guess I won't be able to," Therandil said after thinking hard for a moment. "How do you like that sword over there? The one with the silver hilt?"
Cimorene left in disgust and went out to the castle garden. She was very discouraged. It looked as if she were going to marry the prince of Sathem-by-the-Mountains whether she wanted to or not.
"I'd rather be eaten by a dragon," she muttered.
"That can be arranged," said a voice from beside her left slipper.
Cimorene looked down and saw a small green frog looking up at her.
"I beg your pardon. Did you speak?" she asked.
"You don't see anyone else around, do you?" said the frog.
"Oh!" said Cimorene. She had never met a talking frog before. "Are you an enchanted prince?" she asked a little doubtfully.
"No, but I've met a couple of them, and after a while you pick up a few things," said the frog. "Now, why is it that you want to be eaten by a dragon?"
"My parents want me to marry Prince Therandil," Cimorene explained.
"And you don't want to? Sensible of you," said the frog. "I don't like Therandil. He used to skip rocks across the top of my pond. They always sank into my living room."
"I'm sorry," Cimorene said politely.
"Well," said the frog, "what are you going to do about it?"
"Marrying Therandil? I don't know. I've tried talking to my parents, but they won't listen, and neither will Therandil."
"I didn't ask what you'd said about it," the frog snapped. "I asked at you're going to do. Nine times out of ten, talking is a way of avoiding doing "What kinds of things would you suggest?" Cimorene said, stung.
"You could challenge the prince to a duel," the frog suggested.
He'd win," Cimorene said. "It's been four years since I've been allowed to do any fencing."
"You could turn him into a toad."
"I never got past invisibility in my magic lessons," Cimorene said.
"Transformations are advanced study."
The frog looked at her disapprovingly. "Can't you do anything?"
"I can curtsy," Cimorene said disgustedly. "I know seventeen different country dances, nine ways to agree with an ambassador from Cathay without actually promising him anything, and one hundred and forty-three embroidery stitches. And I can make cherries jubilee."
"Cherries jubilee?" asked the frog, and snapped at a passing fly.
"The castle chef taught me, before Father made him stop," Cimorene explained.
The frog munched briefly, then swallowed and said, "I suppose there's no help for it. You'll have to run away."
"Run away?" Cimorene said. "I don't like that idea. Too many things could go wrong."
"You don't like the idea of marrying Prince Therandil, either," the frog pointed out.
"Maybe I can think of some other way out of getting married."
The frog snorted. "Such as?" Cimorene didn't answer, and after a moment the frog said, "I thought so. Do you want my advice or not?"
"Yes, please," said Cimorene. After all, she didn't have to follow it.
"Go to the main road outside the city and follow it away from the mountains," said the frog. "After a while, you will come to a small pavilion made of gold, surrounded by trees made of silver with emerald leaves. Go straight past it without stopping, and don't answer if anyone calls out to you from the pavilion. Keep on until you reach a hovel. Walk straight up to the door and knock three times, then snap your fingers and go inside. You'll find some people there who can help you out of your difficulties if you're polite about asking and they're in the right mood. And that's all."
The frog turned abruptly and dove into the pool. "Thank you very much," Cimorene called after it, thinking that the frog's advice sounded very odd indeed. She rose and went back into the castle.
She spent the rest of the day being fitted and fussed over by her ladies-in-waiting until she was ready to scream. By the end of the formal banquet, at which she had to sit next to Prince Therandil and listen to endless stories of his prowess in battle, Cimorene was more than ready to take the frog's advice.
Late that night, when most of the castle was asleep, Cimorene bundled up five clean handkerchiefs and her best crown. Then she dug out the notes she had taken during her magic lessons and carefully cast a spell of invisibility.
It seemed to work, but she was still very watchful as she sneaked out of the castle. After all, it had been a long time since she had practiced.
By morning, Cimorene was well outside the city and visible again, walking down the main road that led away from the mountains. It was hot and dusty, and she began to wish she had brought a bottle of water instead of the handkerchiefs.
Just before noon, she spied a small grove of trees next to the road ahead of her. It looked like a cool, pleasant place to rest for a few minutes, and she hurried forward. When she reached the grove, however, she saw that the trees were made of the finest silver, and their shining green leaves were huge emeralds. In the center of the grove stood a charming pavilion made of gold and hung with gold curtains.