Not Always A Happy Ending

Nude Greek Statue

Yuna woke up on the softest pillows and sheets she'd ever been on in her life. "What..."

"Good morning," Yerin said. "We're in the royal palace and you're now engaged to marry the crown prince of America."

"I'm going back to bed," Yuna said, rolling over onto her stomach. "I hate hanging out with you. We always go on these horrible benders and then I can't remember anything through the black-outs. I'm not as young as I used to be, Yerin."

"This is not a drill, Yuna!" Yerin said as she shook Yuna's shoulders. The pillows were so soft that Yuna could easily go back to sleep. "I repeat, this is not a drill!"

Yuna gave up, rolling back onto her back and looking up at Yerin. "Do you really expect me to believe that—" Then it comes rushing back: the frog, the kiss, the naked man. "Where's the nude Greek statue?"

"Your priorities," Yerin laughed, but her laughter was strained. Yuna looked at her more closely.

Yerin looked like she hadn't slept all night, and the tired lines around her mouth make her look kind of droopy and sad, like the flowers on Eunha's desk that Jimin gave her for Valentine's Day which she'd watered, maybe once. "That naked man turned out to be the Prince."

"You called him Taehyung, though," Yuna faintly replied, and then it sank in. "You did!"

"Prince Ian..." Yerin's frown became more pronounced, "Prince Ian is Taehyung. They're the same person."

"Your friend is the prince? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know," Yerin replied stiffly, and Yuna got the impression that they've recently fought about that very fact. "But now I do. You'll be marrying him in two months, by the way, a September wedding."

"Don't be ridiculous," Yuna said. "I won't be marrying anyone. I hardly know him."

"You don't really have a choice," Yerin said. "At least, that's as far as I've been able to work out talking to the royal advisor."

"What does that mean? You mean like... I don't have a choice?"

"So, it turns out that kissing the frog is a kind of... magical contract," Yerin said. "The kind that compels both parties to get married or something bad will happen."

"Something bad?" Yuna felt like a parrot, and while she liked parrots them, she preferred to consider herself capable of an independent thought.

"Something bad," Yerin repeated. "So, you're marrying the prince."

"And in my sleep, I have been relocated to the palace."

"I tried to wake you up for the fanfare, but you were out like a light. You were drooling when one of the bodyguards threw you over his shoulder. It was embarrassing. You're embarrassing."

"This is entirely your fault," Yuna said. "You and your delight in other people's misery."

Yuna rubbed her face with both hands, relieved when they are clean of slime. Her body still ached, but it's less than it had been the night before. "I've kissed a frog and it turned into a prince, and hell, Yerin, now what am I supposed to do?" Her words were half scream, half sob, and Yerin pulled her into hug as she started to shake. "Can I wake up from this dream now?"

"Sorry, but no," Yerin said, and Yuna's just about to reply when the door burst open as an averagely tall, green-haired man rushed inside.

He said something in rapid-fire English, and Yerin quickly replied, letting Yuna go so she can fully engage in the conversation. Yuna noted that the man had his hand on a sword of some sorts, and he only let go once Yerin's hurried explanation trails off.