A/N: Just a short little Harold/Lillian one shot. Takes place while he's still a frog. Enjoy!

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From the moment he saw her, he knew she would be the one to end his curse. He had only been in the pond about six months when she first started coming for walks with her older sister. Both young women were beautiful, but he could tell just by watching how different they were. The eldest girl was redhaired and fiery with freckles spattered across her nose and arms, skipping rocks along the pond's smooth surface and constantly gossiping to her younger sister about handsome suitors and balls and all sorts of exciting, high-society events. Her name was Rose, and her personality seemed to have all the beauty and thorns as her namesake. From what he could gather, she was a bit of a flirt, and quite the actress. The tales she told made it obvious that she was using her beauty and charms to appear like a demure, delicate flower to men, while out in the woods she would cast off her shoes and hike up her skirts to wade into the pond in a very unladylike manner. She had a temper, as well, often venting to her sister and the woodland around them about one thing or another. She certainly had the ability to draw attention to herself.

However, it was the younger sister that captivated him ever since the first glimpse he caught of her. There was nothing truly remarkable about her appearance. Her hair was the color of wheat ready to be harvested, her skin was fair, and she had a nice figure. By appearances, she was a beautiful girl, but nothing really out of the ordinary. It was in her demeanor that he found her true beauty; it shone like a halo around her head to him. She was quiet and gentle, and she always reeled her sister back in from her rantings with a good bit of common sense. Although she obviously had opinions and wasn't completely passive, he had never heard her speak a truly cross word about anyone in the conversations he overheard. In her, he saw a level-headed woman with a kind and caring heart....a woman who might, just might, be able to accept him for what he was. But could he bring himself to speak to her? Even on the days when she came for walks alone, how was he supposed to go about it? "Oh, hello, I'm a frog, would you mind kissing me so I can turn into a handsome prince?" That just didn't seem to be at all fitting for a woman like her.

So he simply watched her, falling a little more in love with her every day as she sat on a rock by the pond, gently pushing the lily pads around with her fingertips while her sister chattered and waded. She would smile a little, an amused smile that made her seem wise beyond her years when dealing with Rose's antics. And he knew in his heart that, title or no title, she had the makings of a magnificent queen. He just knew that if he could be with her, she would be the perfect balance to his occassionally hot-headed nature. More importantly, she would be someone patient enough to love him. And he would change for her...he would do anything for her, if only he could let her know how he felt.

But he was still only a frog, and she was Lily, a flower far too fair for him to even dream of.