"As he was about to take his leave, the boy's
sharp tongue found something cutting to say, but
since his stone heart allowed him to find no
amusement in it, for the first time he swallowed
his cruel words. Instead, he asked if the man
knew anyone else with work for him.
"'You're a good lad, so I will tell you this,
although perhaps it would be better if I didn't,'
said the tavernkeeper. 'The baron is looking to
marry off his daughter. She is rumored to be so
fearsome that no man can spend three nights in
her chambers. But if you do, you'll win her hand
—and her dowry.'
"'I fear nothing,' said the boy, for his heart of
stone made any feeling impossible."
Cardan interrupted. "The moral is obvious.
The boy wasn't rude to the innkeeper, so he was
given a quest. And because he was rude to the
witch, he got cursed. So the boy shouldn't be
rude, right? Rude boys get punished."
"Ah, but if the witch hadn't cursed him, he
would never have been given the quest, either,
would he? He'd be back home, sharpening his
wit on some poor candlemaker," said the troll
woman, pointing a long finger at him. "Listen a
little longer, princeling."
Cardan had grown up in the palace, a wild thing to be cosseted by
courtiers and scowled at by the High King. No one much liked him, and he
told himself he cared little for anyone else. And if he sometimes thought
about how he might do something to win his father's favor, something to
make the Court respect him and love him, he kept that to himself. He
certainly asked no one to tell him stories, and yet he found it was nice to be
told one. He kept that to himself, too.
Aslog cleared her throat and began speaking again. "When the boy
presented himself to the baron, the old man looked upon him with sadness.
'Spend three nights with my daughter, showing no fear, and you shall marry her and inherit all that I have. But I warn you, no man has managed it, for
she is under a curse.'
"'I fear nothing,' the boy told him.
"'More's the pity,' said the baron.
"By day, the boy did not see the baron's daughter. As evening came on,
the servants bathed him and fed him an enormous meal of roasted lamb,
apples, leeks, and bitter greens. Having no dread of what was ahead, he ate
his fill, for never had he had a finer meal, and then rested in anticipation of
the night ahead.
"Finally, the boy was led to a chamber with a bed at the center and a
clawed-up couch tucked into a corner. Outside, he heard one of the servants
whispering about what a tragedy it was for such a handsome lad to die so
young."
Cardan was leaning forward now, utterly captivated by the tale.
"He waited as the moon rose outside the window. And then something
came in: a monster covered in fur, her mouth filled with three rows of razorsharp teeth. All other suitors had run from her in terror or attacked her in
rage. But the boy's heart of stone kept him from feeling anything but
curiosity. She gnashed her teeth, waiting for him to show fear. When he did
not, but rather climbed into the bed, she followed, curling up at the end of it
like an enormous cat.
"The bed was very fine, much more comfortable than sleeping on the
floor of a tavern. Soon both were asleep. When the boy woke, he was alone.
"The household rejoiced when he emerged from the bedchamber, for no
one had ever made it through a single night with the monster. The boy spent
the day strolling through the gardens, but although they were glorious, he
was troubled that no happiness could yet touch him. On the second night,
the boy brought his evening meal with him to the bedchamber and set it on
the floor. When the monster came in, he waited for her to eat before he took
his portion. She roared in his face, but again he didn't flee, and when he
went to the bed, she followed.
"By the third night, the household was in a state of giddy anticipation.
They dressed the boy like a bridegroom and planned for a wedding at
dawn."
Cardan heard something in her voice that suggested that wasn't how
things were going to go at all. "And then what?" he demanded. "Didn't he
break the curse?"
"Patience," said Aslog the troll woman. "The
third night, the monster came straight over,
nuzzling him with a furred jaw. Perhaps she was
excited, knowing that in mere hours her curse
might be broken. Perhaps she felt some affection
for him. Perhaps the curse compelled her to test
his mettle. Whatever the reason, when he didn't
move away, she butted her head playfully against
his chest. But she didn't know her own strength.
His back slammed against the wall, and he felt
something crack in his chest."
"His heart of stone," said Cardan.
"Yes," said the troll woman. "A great swell of
love for his family swept over him. He felt a
longing for the village of his childhood. And he
was filled with a strange and tender love for her,
his cursed bride.
"'You have cured me,' he told her, tears
wetting his cheeks.
"Tears that the monster took for a sign of fear.
"Her enormous jaws opened, teeth gleaming.
Her great nose twitched, scenting prey. She could
hear the speeding of his heart. In that moment, she
sprang on him and tore him to pieces."
"That's a terrible story," Cardan said,
outraged. "He would have been better off if he'd never left home. Or if he'd
said something cruel to the tavern-keeper. There is no point to your tale,
unless it is that nothing has any meaning at all."
The troll woman peered down at him. "Oh, I think there's a lesson in it,
princeling: A sharp tongue is no match for a sharp tooth."