I'm Afraid You've Got Dragons

by Peter S. Beagle

The prince’s face twisted as harshly as it could, which wasn’t much; fine bones will out.

There was nothing for her to do but sit in her room as quietly as she could, the very portrait of grace and serenity, while her unanchored mind hammered at the walls.

There’s just something upsetting about getting what we want. I suggest knitting.

men believe themselves to be all straight lines and right angles—an illusion you will find it important to allow them, though in fact they are as hopelessly snarled as a ball of yarn after a cat gets through playing with it.

When in doubt, smile.

And don’t forget to take the gentian-blue court dress, whatever else you pack. Men are helpless against gentian blue, every one of them. My grandmother taught me that.”

The dragon-boy obviously knew nothing of correct comportment in the presence of a lady, let alone a princess, but he knew dragons, and looking around, she knew she had been wrong to place her pride above his knowledge.

“Perhaps you really are a hero, after all, born a favorite of the gods. You’re certainly thick enough.”