You were the heir of a very cold empire. You had, once again, scared away your potential suitor that your parent had set up for you. You'd always suprise or awe them with your beauty, and then use their own words against them.

Right now, how do I explain this? You were in your room, backed up on your bookshelf, with a talking frog claiming he was prince Ross of the Kingdom of Azarath.

"I love frogs but I don't wanna be one! Please my dearest princess! Just one kiss!" The frog panicked.