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Deal 1227: Which frog

“There’s only one prince in this story, and that must be me.”

“Hardly. You are, as we can plainly see, just a frog.”

“I could be a prince among frogs.”

“Unlikely. Amphibians are not known for monarchy. You are just a frog.”

“And that is true. So you would agree that if I am a prince, I am not a frog.”

“Perhaps. But it is plain to see that you are, in fact, a frog.”

“Did you not see the witch leaving the stage?”

“Oh. Not that again.”

“There you go. Because of the witch, I, The Prince, am now in the shape of a frog.”

“Nope. There is no witch. Therefore, no prince. You are merely a frog.”

“Who is that standing behind you? One clue: it is not a Crocodile.”

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Deal 1215: Consequences

Events turned on a dime once his decision was made. Most of that cascade was outside his purview, of course. He still had trouble recalling and believing how far his influence spread.

After all, he wasn’t born to his position. Nor had he earned it in any of the usual venues.

He earned it by saving the King.

Why had the King need of the help of a beggar?

Because— actually he didn’t have a good answer to that normally rhetorical question. All he could really speak to was the event itself. The King was alone, the would-be killer stepped out of a shadow. What would anyone do in that circumstance? Even if it was very strange that the King was in your alley after midnight?

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Deal 1171: Tied in knots

Strings bind us all, and guide our actions. Of course, a true gentleman knows where the strings will lead, and requires only a light touch. And a scoundrel needs constant correction.

The strings on the body don’t control the heart, however. But they can occasionally provide a needed nudge.

She wasn’t aware of her strings at all, being the sort that blows along with the in crowd and would never even consider acting outside her character.

He was nearly her opposite. Risk-taking and daring to her meek acceptance. A bad boy in image and in deeds. And aware enough of his strings to cast as many off as he could find ways to release, and bucking the control of the rest.

Their chance meeting on the street may have been set up by the weird sisters, and made available for those able to watch by crystal ball, magic mirror, or scrying pool, as light entertainment for the supernatural set. But that didn’t make it any less real for our players.

If he had planned the bump, he might have been prepared to pick her pocket or purse. But he was as startled as she was. She, of course, would have done everything in her power to not bump into anyone on the street.

But neither had a chance to act, and the bump was rather more literal than the fates would have preferred. She ended up sitting in a puddle, and he nearly had an impromptu lynching from the bystanders. But struck by some slightly out of character notion, he was polite and apologetic, and helped her to her feet.

Next the knew, they were dining together and comparing notes on how odd it was that this was happening at all, how startled and amused their families would be, and before long dessert was just a fading memory and they were comparing hopes and dreams.

They never were able to untangle their strings from that meeting, so they married, and had the expected number of children, pets, and pickets on their fence.

The lesson the fates may not have learned here is that the meeting itself may be dramatic and unexpected, but when the meeting is demanded by the fates themselves, it is also likely to be far more anticlimactic than entertaining.