Chapter 18 #2
“What if I weren’t a lizard?” His dark eyes were suddenly intense. “Would those scales then be tipped in my favor?” The corners of his mouth twitched.
Rana let out a snort of laughter, and, like that, the strange tension of the moment was broken. “That sounds like a joke Jasper would make.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.” Kamaran gave her a wry smile as he reached for another piece of candy.
“Whichever will make you happiest.” She smiled as they fell back into the comfortable back-and-forth they had established. “If you don’t mind, I would like my story back, please.”
He sighed. “My ending was that bad, huh?”
“It was an admirable effort.”
Kamaran laughed out loud at that. “I appreciate your honesty. Very well, Master Storyteller—take it away.”
“Thank you.” She waited a breath, then began.
“Prince Kamden, though he had earned the praise and appreciation of the village folk, soon despaired over finding anyone who would be willing to do what the woman had said was needed to lift his curse.
Though they were more than happy to supply him with food and shelter, no one was willing to bring him into their homes in his lizard form, and their looks of disgust that accompanied their refusal soon prompted him to stop asking.
“He stayed in the village through the winter. Spring came, and as the flowers bloomed, he was reminded of the woman in the garden who had cursed him, and he made up his mind to return and beg her to reconsider.”
“If he had never seen the woman before, what made him think that she would be there?” Kamaran interrupted. “Seems like just as much of a stretch as thinking a princess might kiss a lizard.”
Rana reached a hand over her head and flicked him in the knee. “Rule number one. This is my story. You had your chance already.”
He grumbled something about not giving love a chance, but Rana ignored him.
“The farmer agreed to take him as far as the palace gates, and before the season was half over, he had finally returned home.
He scurried over the wall, only to find that the gardens had become unrecognizable.
They were overgrown and wild, as if no one had tended to them in the year that he had been gone.
“As he wandered about in shock and disbelief, he was surprised to hear someone crying.
Thinking of the woman who had cursed him, he followed the sound to the center of the garden, where he found a different woman sitting on the edge of the fountain, which was full of stagnant, murky water.
She was dressed like one of the palace servants, and she wrung her hands together as she cried.
“Prince Kamden approached her carefully, knowing from experience that the sound of his voice often elicited responses of fear. ‘What’s wrong?’
“The servant girl looked startled for a moment, but she took his appearance in stride. ‘I was sent to collect some roses for the queen’s table, but there’s a hive of angry bees. I’ve already been stung three times.’ She held up her arms.
“‘I can help,’ the prince replied, the offer coming without hesitation now. ‘Which roses does the queen want?’
“The servant girl jumped to her feet. ‘Oh, thank you—’ She looked at him curiously. ‘What is your name?’
“‘Kamden,’ he answered, waiting to see if there was any spark of recognition. To his disappointment, there wasn’t.
“‘Thank you, Kamden,’ she repeated. ‘My name is…”
Rana trailed off for a moment, torn out of the story at the aggravating problem of needing to name a character.
“Rain.” Kamaran supplied.
She blinked. “Rain?”
“That should be her name.” He smiled innocently. “Kamden and Rain. What lovely names.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then decided it wasn’t worth the effort.
“Fine then. ‘My name is Rain,’ the servant girl said.
She led Prince Kamden to a corner of the garden where the rose bushes had always bloomed best. Sure enough, the air around the fragrant blossoms was buzzing with a swarm of bees.
“Rain stood back as Kamden crawled along the ground, unbothered by the flying insects.
Plucking the flowers was a little more difficult than he had anticipated, as the thorns were sharp even to his scaly skin, and reaching the stems with the biggest blossoms required him to climb up into the branches of the rose bush, but he finally was able to present Rain with twelve beautiful roses.
“She clapped her hands together. ‘Oh, thank you!’ Her eyes widened as she took in the scratches on his body. ‘You’re hurt.’
“‘It’s nothing. I’m glad I could help,’ he replied, surprised to find that he meant every word.
“Rain shook her head. ‘It’s not nothing. Here, as payment for your services.’ She pulled a chain over her head, revealing a shiny gold ring.
“‘I don’t need jewelry,’ he said, touched all the same by her show of gratitude.
“She slipped the chain back on. ‘There must be some way to repay you.’
“Prince Kamden hesitated. ‘I am hungry.’
“‘Of course!’ Rain’s face brightened. ‘I don’t know what talking lizards eat, but I’m sure we can find you something inside. You’ll have to let me carry you, though.’
“Before he knew what was happening, Rain scooped him up and dropped him in her apron pocket. ‘I’m not certain that Cook will be pleased to have a lizard in his kitchen, but just whisper what you want and I’ll put it on my plate for you.’”
“Aha!” Kamaran cheered sleepily. Rana looked up to see that his eyes had fallen to half-mast. “She’ll take him in, they’ll share a plate, and then they’ll fall in love.”
Rana exhaled a laugh as she shook her head. “She’s not going to kiss him.”
“Yet,” he mumbled, clearly fighting the edge of sleep. “Never underestimate the charm of a lizard prince. Rain is destined to fall.”
Her heart squeezed painfully as she watched him succumb to his drowsiness.
Rana leaned her cheek against the cushion as she studied him.
He looked so peaceful and content, more like a young man and less like a Sultan with the weight of a country’s expectations on his shoulders.
If she were the one telling their story, they would live in the moment forever—a moment where they were the only two in the world, living out their own fairy tale without the looming reality of a bridal competition that threatened to take him away.
She sighed, reaching for his fingers and squeezing them affectionately.
“The charm of a lizard prince indeed.”