Book Reviews





#ATaleofDiceandFire - day one

Hi everyone - if you are taking part in A Tale of Dice and Fire, your three dice for today are pictured below. Happy storytelling! (And err, try not to go for the obvious with this roll...!)

I will be posting my story below the image once it has been written. Leave links to your own story in the comments :)

Ring, Frog, Princess


My story is one you know, in part.

I am a Princess. Young, beautiful... all the stereotypical clichés of the fairytale bride. I am the stories your mother used to tell you.

But I am human, and I am flawed. I carry (quite literally) inside me, the truth of my character.

The bedtime story your mother told, as you waited all dozy and warm for her to shape your dreams for the night to come, would go something like this: A selfish and naive Princess loses her treasured golden ball in a lake. When a frog kindly offers to retrieve the ball for her, wanting only friendship in return, the Princess agrees, but reluctantly allows the frog to share her palatial life. Despite herself, the Princess learns about friendship as she bonds with her amphibian companion, and casts aside her selfishness along the way by sharing all the privileges her life affords her. She grows. Becomes a “better person”. The frog is of course a magnificently handsome Prince under an evil spell, and when that curse is lifted the two united humankind make off in marriage to live Happily Ever After.

Of course, your mother wouldn’t want to give you nightmares, so this is where the story ends. What she won’t tell you is the Hereafter. I am that Princess, and I bear the marks of a naivety I never grew from. I am no better a person and it took more than three days with a frog on my pillow to lose my selfishness.

You see, my wedding ring is not upon my finger. I did not come across that frog by chance. The curse was not on him but upon me.

The wedding to my Prince was sealed with a kiss, at which point my ring disappeared from my finger and lodged itself at the base of my throat. My Prince looked unsurprised as I began clawing at my neck.

“Don’t worry, my love,” he said, “you will feel no bother from it as long as we remain equals, as we have been since we met.”

I felt FURIOUS, at myself as much as him. I began to question my actions: I had married him on his looks alone. I knew him as a frog, not as a man!

As weeks passed, I sought solace and planned my escape. I started to collect a small pile of coins to help me. It was then that I began to feel a scratch with every swallow. As I stockpiled food the scratching turned to coughing, and as my resentment towards my husband grew, the coughing turned to wheezing, turned to choking.

I am currently bed-bound, tangled in sheets from my frustration, gasping for every breath and wondering why I couldn’t just share life, love and happiness with this man. Was it so much to ask? I don’t know him. His strange pre-nup could be his only flaw. I should get to know him. Perhaps like him... Dare to love him, eventually? Maybe one day I could be a Queen!

Gosh, I feel dizzier than usual...

Copyright notice: The story above is an original work of Emma B. If you would like to use the work in any form please contact Emma B directly.


  1. I like yours better! Mine is called "Princess Ironheart"