King Albert

The King of Poond was in a foul mood. The day was hot and dry, and the light in the hall was hurting his eyes. He had always suspected that his tenure as a frog had had some subtle effect on him after he had been kissed. The King shuddered; being a frog, even for the brief few days that it took for his wife to bring herself to kiss him, had been an excruciating experience. Ever since, he carefully guarded his dignity against those who sneered at his once ...