by Jenni James
“Well!” Her mother waved her hand in front of her face like a fan. “Then before I draw too many more false conclusions, could you please explain, in detail, why you have come and are even now sitting upon one of my nice chairs with your pond-soaked bottom?”
His face took on a look of shock. “I am perfectly clean, Your Majesty.”
“Just so. Now answer my question before I toss you out on your ear.”
He grinned. “I think you mean flippers,” he said cheekily as he waved a foot. “I do not have ears.”
The queen began to tap her shoe.
“Do not tease Queen Mary Elizabeth,” Blythe said. “She is quite serious.”
“Or I could always give you over to the cook, if you would prefer.” Her mother smiled. “Frog legs are such a delicious treat.”
The frog laughed. “Oh, you are much more fun than I anticipated!”
Blythe glanced at her mother and was surprised to see a smile upon her lips.
“Now, speak, toad.” The queen raised an eyebrow. “Blythe, you will remain silent. I wish to hear what he has to say.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, in exchange for fetching her ball of crystal from the deepest part of pond, the princess promised to allow me to stay here with her in the castle as her special guest. Except once I returned with the ball, she immediately collected it and ran here without me. So I have come to guarantee that she upholds her part of our bargain.”
“I see.” The queen turned to Blythe—she did not look pleased. “Is this true?”
Blythe glanced at him. “Yes.”
“And you could not have promised something else? To treat this frog as a special guest was the best you could come up with?”
“It was the payment he requested. I wanted my ball back and I could not have gotten it without him.”
“And if you felt this way, why did you abandon him? A princess should never take promises so lightly.”
“I am sorry. I heard the triangle ringing for tea and ran as quickly as I could. I had forgotten about the pledge until I was nearly to the castle.” She looked at the frog. “Once I remembered, I planned to come and collect you after tea.”
“Tea?” He hopped a bit closer on the chair. “Did you say you came home for tea? I love tea! And I am incredibly famished. Do you perchance have tarts as well?”
“He really is enchanted, is he not?” her mother exclaimed. “For would a simple frog know what tea was?”
“Aye. I am.”
“He claims to be a prince,” Blythe said.
“A prince?” Her mother stepped closer. “And if you are indeed an enchanted prince, may I ask what kingdom you hail from? And just who are your parents?”
CHAPTER SIX
“NO, YOU MAY NOT. This charm does not allow me to reveal who I truly am,” Nolan easily lied.
Blythe’s mother put her hands on her hips. “And we are supposed to go on your word only in accepting that you are an enchanted prince?”
“Well, no matter whose name I gave, you would have been going on my word anyhow, since I clearly do not look like my parents.”
She huffed. “Very well. What should we call you, then?”
“Uh …” He blinked. “Well, since I cannot tell you my real name, what if Princess Blythe picked a name for me?”
The princess gave him a funny look as if she were trying to figure something out—something besides a new name for him.
“Have I said anything amiss?” he asked.
She brought her head up. “No. Forgive me. I was merely curious about a small matter. A name for you? Hmm …” She tapped her chin as if she were thinking. After a few moments, she said, “Perhaps Caspian?”
The Caspian Sea. A very nice choice for a frog. “I like it very much.” He grinned.
“Caspian it is,” the queen said. “And how long do you plan on staying?”
“My charm will wear off in thirty days.”
“Good heavens!” Blythe exclaimed. “And you mean to stay with us that whole time?”
Her mother sighed and looked at the princess. “Well, I hope receiving that ball was worth this.” Then she glanced at him and sighed. “You are welcome to stay as long as you wish. I promise my daughter will treat you with the utmost of respect at all times. And if she does not, you are to inform me of her actions. You are our guest, and I am determined to teach Blythe some responsibility.”
“Mother, I have no difficulties in seeing that he is well treated.”
“You say that now,” she said. “But after a few days, you may find it quite tiresome to always have a frog about, near your plate at the dining table, constantly with you wherever you go, etc.”
Blythe looked at him and he smiled a very cheeky froggy smile. She blinked and he chuckled. What he would give to discern what she was thinking. Even though she did not seem overly kind, at the same time she was not as repulsive and rude as he expected her to be. Perhaps it was time to get to know her a bit more.
“Never mind all of this.” The queen waved her hand and abruptly turned from the room. “We can discuss this over tea before it becomes cold. Let us remove ourselves and eat. I am famished, and the poor toad is ravenous as well,” she said as she walked out.
Blythe glanced at the door and then back at him. She was clearly unsure what to do next, so he thought he would rattle her nerves a bit to see what she could handle. “Do you mind if I ride upon your shoulder?”
“My—my shoulder?” Blythe’s jawed dropped and then a look of repulsion flickered over her face before she said, “What if you ride in my pocket instead?”
“Oh.” He gave the best crestfallen face he could muster and hoped it looked suitably convincing. “I have always preferred to see where I was going.”
“Oh.”
“How would you feel if I sat upon your head?”
“My head?” She folded her arms. “Certainly not. Prince or no, I am not allowing an amphibian to travel in my hair!”
And there was the spoiled child he knew lurked within the seventeen-year-old young woman. “Really?” He hopped forward a bit. “I am a guest.”
“Yes. But—”
“One who risked his life to fetch your favorite ball.”
“Risked your life! Of all the—”
“And who was forced to hop the whole way to the castle and call outside the door until the butler took pity on me because you refused to keep your part of the bargain.”
“Well, I explained that it was not intentional—”
“And now, after all my troubles and being so rudely treated, I am told I must be stuffed within your pocket and jiggled and bounced around as you walk in to tea instead of being given a proper, friendly perch to sit upon.”
Blythe threw her hands in the air. “Of all the inane things to agree to! I should have left my ball where it was.”
He laughed. “Careful, my dear—you told your mother you would have no difficulties treating me as a guest. Do you stuff all your guests into enclosed places and rattle them about?”
“Urgh! There is no reasoning with you, is there?”
“Now that I see your true colors, it is perhaps a good thing the queen is not around.”
“My true colors? That I am not willing to put up with a boorish, monstrous, smelly, slimy frog?”
He shrugged. “Just so.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Very well.” She leaned over. “You may settle upon my shoulder as we walk to the drawing room.”
“Finally!” He hopped onto her and said rather smugly, “There! It only took a small bit of negotiation to get you to agree to be somewhat decently mannered.”
“Meanwhile, in this short little episode, I have come to realize what a pushy, conceited creature you are,” she replied. “My, as a prince you must have wooed all the ladies with such impeccable manners.”
“Careful, my dear, you—”
“I am not your dear!” Blythe suddenly shouted. “Kindly do not call me so again.”
�
�Hmm …” He was about to respond to her churlish remark and then thought better of it. It was always more agreeable to catch the enemy off guard. Instead, he returned to his first thought. “Be wary how you insult me, princess. I do not see many suitors beating down the doors, begging for your hand, and I think I know why.”
“If you are referring to me not wishing to have you sit upon my person, it is a very natural thought for any princess to have. What guest actually prostrates themselves upon their host’s head? But to push yourself and force your way into doing that which is exceedingly uncomfortable for me proves how selfish you truly are. If you were a gracious prince, you would have been happy enough indeed to travel peeking out of my pocket!” She turned and flounced through the door, almost causing him to slip off in the process.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BLYTHE GRUMBLED UNDER HER breath. If she had to be saddled with an animal, why did it have to be with the most pompous frog she had ever had the displeasure of knowing? As she came into the drawing room, she muttered a final jab at him. “At least it is safe to assume why you were enchanted to begin with!”
“What do you mean?” he whispered back.
“Why, you obviously insulted some witch with your snobbish ways and were forced into this as punishment.”
“I beg your pardon!”
“So this is the frog!” Jeremiah exclaimed as he approached, holding his dish of food, all grins and waggling eyebrows. “You look quite happy sitting upon my sister’s shoulder.”
David laughed from an overstuffed chair. “Well, for a girl who is afraid of frogs and would go screaming from them, you have certainly changed your stance now. He must be quite a remarkable frog!”
“These are my older brothers,” Blythe said ruefully as she walked across the room and placed Caspian upon the tea cart. Once he was situated, she turned and pointed. “That one, sitting, is Prince David and heir to the throne, and that one, standing near the door, is Prince Jeremiah.
“This is Caspian,” she said as she looked at the frog. My word! What prince was this to have such manners? He had pulled a pastry off the platter and was even now gnawing on the thing right upon the cart. “Let me get a plate for you,” she exclaimed as she collected one and began to fill it with tarts and scones.
“Do not forget the sandwiches,” he said as he took another bite of tart.
She leaned over and whispered, “If it were up to me, I would smash you flat this instant!”
“Would you now?” he asked, his mouth full and crumbs tumbling to the cart.
“Yes!”
“Why?”
“Because!” She was going mad. Either that or she had fallen asleep at the pond and had dreamt this whole scenario. Because—well, because apparently she wished to meet a talking frog! That was it—a talking enchanted prince. Yes. Because she did not wish to marry Nolan, and therefore her subconscious was showing her how much more difficult her life would be if she did not consider him! There. She smiled. This was all a figment of her imagination. None of it was real. Sighing, she looked down at the imaginary frog.
“You still have not answered my question. Why would you smash me flat? What in the world have I done?”
He looked so real. She reached over and touched him. He felt so real. Her finger caressed his smooth head.
“Mmm …” He grinned and arched up, as if asking for her to continue.
He sounded real as well. Truly, this had to be the most vivid dream she had ever experienced. Suddenly she pinched him.
Caspian jumped and yelped. “What in the blazes are you doing?”
She looked up. Her brothers began to laugh and her mother did not look pleased at all.
“Do you see him?” she asked David. “Do you see the frog sitting here by me?” She pinched Caspian again.
Jeremiah guffawed. “Honestly, Blythe! Of course we see the poor thing you are physically harming.”
“Blythe Genevieve Constance! You had better move away from that frog right now.”
“You see him too?” Her head began to feel decidedly fuzzy.
“What is wrong with you?” her mother asked. “Of course we see him.”
“It all seems so real. All of it.”
“Uh, this is real.” David smiled.
Blythe shook her head and groaned. “No. I am not actually in a room watching an enchanted frog eat our tea tarts.”
“That is precisely what I am doing.” Caspian leaned over and gobbled up a second one. “Were you going to pass on that plate in your hand?” he asked. “I am willing to eat off a plate; however, my webbed feet do not allow me to collect one myself. And whilst attempting to wound me, you do seem to have forgotten your original errand of feeding me.”
“You are not real!” Blythe exclaimed. “You are not. I am dreaming this.” She pointed to her family. “I am dreaming all this. You are all in my imagination right now.”
Jeremiah was laughing so hard, he was bent double. “Mother! Mother,” he gasped. “May I please tell our mates about this? May I, please?”
“Certainly not! Your sister will not be made into a laughingstock.”
“But it is too rich!”
“’Tis true, Mother,” David chimed in. “First she has this speaking frog follow her home and now she is attempting to believe he does not honestly exist when he is clearly her particular friend!”
“Enough, you two!” The queen walked up to Blythe and touched her forehead. “Are you well, child?”
Blythe pulled away. “I do not know.” Already she was becoming even more fuzzy. “Perhaps I am not as well as I could hope.”
“Can you not see that I am real?” The frog unexpectedly leaped to her shoulder, causing Blythe to shriek. “See there? Had you screeched like that in a dream, it would have awakened you. So now you have proof that you are most definitely conscious.”
Blythe began to feel ill. Was this all truly happening?
“Good heavens! Get off her! She is not well.” Her mother sighed and pointed. “David, Jeremiah, one of you remove this frog.”
“Do you not want to touch it, Mother?” Jeremiah looked smug. “Are you afraid of him?”
“You will shut your mouth and remove the thing from your sister now or I will show you what it is like to be very afraid.”
Jeremiah quickly collected the frog and set him back on the tea cart. “You had better not get up there again—the women around here are not known for their rationality. You have no idea what they could do to you at any given moment.”
“Believe me, you do not have to warn me of anything. I am quite well aware. It has been an interesting day so far, to say the least.”
That did it. A princess could only take so much rudeness from her guest before she snapped. She lunged for the slimy green thing.
“Blythe, stop it!” Her mother’s arm flew out and halted her. “You go to bed this instant. I do not think you are all that well, child. Indeed, you are beginning to frighten me with your crazed looks and actions. Go take a rest and sleep this madness off. Perhaps you will be better in an hour or two. We will make sure Caspian is taken care of. Now go.” She pushed at Blythe, who obediently turned and walked toward the door.
Perhaps she did need to rest. The strain of the day was clearly jumbling her brain. She had never felt so completely hopeless and confused before. Slowly she made her way to her room and collapsed on the bright yellow satin coverlet. There was no need to ring for Betty, her maid, to help her—not now. Not when her fuzzy mind was finally feeling warm and all things were oddly discombobulated. She yawned. Perhaps when she woke up, she would discover it was all just a dream anyhow. Grinning, she closed her eyes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NOLAN WATCHED AS BLYTHE slowly fluttered her eyes. He had been sitting upon the pillow next to her since Jeremiah had deposited him there about an hour ago. At first he was upset with the girl and so he did a lot of glaring in silence, but then the last ten minutes or so, something had begun to change and soften within him.
The princess had begun to stir and made these sweet humming sounds, followed by a smile. He could not fathom how or why, but it made him pause and smile too. She was quite charming asleep like this, her long lashes brushing against her cheeks. Even her full lips looked much more tempting than he remembered before.
She rolled over on her side, facing him, and snuggled further into her pillow before opening her eyes. It took a moment for her gaze to settle upon Nolan, but he knew the second it did because she grimaced slightly and closed her eyes tight.
“You are still here,” she moaned before cracking one eye open.
“Yes. I am afraid you are quite stuck with me.”
Blythe sighed and rolled unto her back. “I know—for thirty days. Heaven help us all.”
Nolan chuckled. “You are not the most pleasant princess I have ever known. Honestly, if I were to do things over, I definitely would not have wanted that thirty-day curse. Perhaps a five-day curse would have been much better.”
She glanced over. “So, are you saying you designed this enchantment? As in, you were able to negotiate such a thing?”
Nolan clamped his mouth closed. How could he be such a fool?
“What are you hiding?” She turned over on her side again. “And another thing. How long have you been sitting there while I slept?”
He shrugged. “About an hour. Your brother set me down on this pillow. How could you sleep so long in the afternoon, anyway?”
She yawned and stretched her arms above her. “Because I am a princess, of course.”
“Of course. How could I have forgotten?”
“So what are you hiding?” she asked again.
He shook his head. “Nothing you need to concern yourself over.”
“No?” She blinked. “And this coming from a frog that just spent an hour watching me sleep. I should not be concerned over anything about you. No, you are not disturbing at all.” She sat up and nudged him off her satin cushion. “Why would my brother place you on one of my nice pillows? He should have put you upon the foot of the bed.”
“Thank you.” He smirked as he adjusted himself on the duvet. It would seem that the moment he began to convince himself Blythe was a good person, he was reminded again of how horrid she actually was. There was simply no way he could ask for this woman’s hand. It was not worth the years of torture, knowing she was his bride.