She huffed. “Lead on.”
They trudged up several more flights of stairs until sweat seeped through Freida’s beautiful silk gown. She almost hoped Armin wasn’t waiting in their clandestine love nest, as she needed to change before he saw her in this disheveled state.
Wilfred led her through a hallway, which didn’t boast grand paintings of former monarchs. Instead, bland watercolors of fruit and landscapes adorned the walls. She pursed her lips in disapproval. These were the kinds of quarters Father would stick random travelers who begged for shelter during storms. It would never do to turn away a disguised witch or fairy. Some of those creatures made it their vocations to curse arrogant royals for the smallest of slights.
He stopped at an oak door, riddled with woodworm holes. “Your trunks will be sent up forthwith.”
She pushed open the door to find herself in what was hardly better than servants’ quarters with a view of the stables. Her stomach rumbled, and she turned to give Wilfred orders, but he had already gone. She looked around for a bell or some way to call a servant, but there was none. She sat on the hard bed, her head bowed. Armin would be coming as soon as he could. He placed her in this out-of-the-way wing so he could ravish her without anyone interrupting their passion. She nodded. That was it.
A knock sounded on the door, and she squeaked. Her hands trembled, and the flames of passion ignited in her loins. She smoothed her hair down and cocked her head in what Momo had assured her was a demure manner. After a deep breath, she flung open the door. “Armi—” Her entire posture sagged with disappointment at the tall redhead dressed in armor. “Oh, Molly. You’d better come in.”
Molly was her brother Gregor’s wife. Although she came from common stock, the woman was a warrior who had earned her place at the side of a Prince. Molly glanced around the room. “Why did they put you in here?”
Freida explained her theory, and Molly shook her head. “You’re coming with me to the Academy.”
She pressed her hand on her bosom. “Me?”
“You’ve been trained in swordsmanship, yes?”
Freida nodded.
“Then you’ll be fine. It’s a damn sight better than this room.”
“But I want to wait for Armin.”
Molly shrugged. “Suit yourself. Your father, His Majesty, ordered me to check on you. What should I tell him?”
“Let him know Armin is besotted.”
She glanced around the room, her brows furrowed. “I can certainly tell him you said that.”
Wilfred brought her meals to the room, and he retained a polite distance. According to him, Armin had gone to Gewitter for a crash course in how to become ruler of the United Kingdom of Seven. The King had concluded that the chances of Alec reverting back to humanity were slim. She pondered his words. If Armin was too busy for trysts, she may as well take up Molly’s offer of a place at the Academy. It was better than being cooped in servants’ quarters, bumping into scullery maids on her way to the communal bathroom. She could always return on weekends to see her One True Love.
On her first weekend back from the Academy, she demanded alternative accommodations. Wilfred told her that her attic room was now occupied by a visiting dignitary, and a coachman would take her back to her dormitory in the evenings. She shrugged. That suited her fine, as she would no longer have to dine in that horrid little bedroom.
“This way, please, Your Highness.” He led her into the gardens, where Alec had given her his blessing to pursue his brother. A breakfast table for one had been set up by the pond, and one frog in particular glared at her. From the stripes on its head and back, she could tell this was Alec.
Alec let out a loud, bellowing croak.
Freida glanced at Wilfred, hoping he would not pick up the tone of accusation. The servant poured the coffee, bowed, and left.
“Why are you blaming me for your predicament?” she spat. “You’re the one who got yourself cursed.”
CROAK!
“What? How could I kiss you? Haven’t you read the scrolls. We don’t love each other. I would have turned into a frog and joined you in that pond until we fell in love.”
BROOOAAAAK!
Freida flushed. “I was barely listening to you when you talked about your secret paramour. How would I even know where to start? There are so many girls in the Known World, no one would find her anyway. You’re better off without her. Can’t you fall in love with one of those frogs over there?” She pointed at a lithe, green amphibian sunning itself on a lily pad. “That one over there is rather fetching.”
She ignored Alec’s protests and ate her breakfast, leaving the frog to argue with itself. If he had been born like his brother, tall and handsome, he wouldn’t have been in this mess. She would have fallen for him, kissed him and they’d be married now.
“Alec?”
Freida glanced up. It was her One True Love! The pounding of her heart jolted the butterflies in her stomach back to life. Her sweetheart seemed rather tired around the eyes, but Freida supposed the poor man had lain awake at night, pining for her. “Armin?”
Her shy suitor continued staring at the frog, probably using his brother as a chaperone. Otherwise, his passions would take control and he’d ravish her on the breakfast table in full view of the servants and amphibians. Yes, the desperate darling just needed a little distraction to take his mind off his passion. She stood, pushing out her heaving bosom and flicked back her luxurious chestnut hair, baring her creamy neck. “Oh, Armin!”
As soon as his gaze flickered to hers, she placed the back of her delicate hand on her smooth brow and fell into a graceful faint. Unfortunately, this resulted in her falling backward into the pond with a splash. A miscalculation on her part, but she was sure the effect was spectacular. Cold, slimy water seeped into her dress, and she turned pleading eyes to Armin.
Her One True Love looked to the heavens, as though in thanks for whoever had blessed him with such a delightful damsel. With one tug of his strong arm, he pulled her out. She panted, longing to feel those strong arms around her again. “Thank you.”
Armin’s passions were so inflamed, he could not make eye contact. He called over his shoulder for a servant, and a man and a woman jogged up. “See that the Princess receives fresh clothing.”
“It’s not necessary,” she said. Her love concerned himself too much with her well being, when they should be catching up in his bedroom. “I’m fine.”
He shook his head. “Please.” He clenched his teeth against the flames threatening to burn him whole. “Take her away before she catches a cold.”
The two servants led her to a powder room to change, and a seamstress came to adjust a borrowed gown. When they finished with her, she sat at a window seat, watching Armin interact with his brother. She wondered if her One True Love knew about the mystery woman. Probably not, because a hero like Armin would have searched the Kingdom looking for her. Love was such as wonderful thing. It had the power to break enchantments.
Her eyes flashed. An enchantment! If she could get her hands on an elixir or enchantress, she would make Armin overcome his shyness, and he would be her willing slave.
Chapter 5
Freida took a carriage to Via Plutus, the shopping district not too far from the palace. Wilfred had insisted that two guards accompany her at all times, due to her royal status. But she didn’t want them following her to the establishment she intended to visit.
All the shops were constructed from the same limestone as the palace and surrounding buildings. While the place looked beautiful, she was not looking for a high-class shopping trip.
“I need an alchemist,” she said to one guard. He was a strapping specimen, like the swineherd, but not worth considering for a tryst.
“Don’t you mean apothecary, Your Highness? They usually sell alchemical elixirs, like Liquid Invigoration.”
She sighed and scratched her head. Things were so much more demarcated in Vern. Apothecaries sold herbal concoctions for general health. Alche
mists could create elixirs one wanted no one to know about. “Yes, fine. Take me to the apothecary and wait outside.”
The guards nodded and led her to a very conspicuous-looking shop, which sold the usual medicines for minor injuries and ailments. Freida pushed through to the counter to the decrepit old man who looked like an apothecary.
“How can I help you, My Lady?”
“It’s Your Highness,” she snapped.
The man bowed. “My apologies, Your Highness. We are seldom frequented by those of your elevated rank.”
She preened but remembered her goal so she hunched over a counter. “Where can I find a special alchemist or enchantress?”
His eyes widened. “I don’t think that’s the safe—”
“Silence!” she hissed. “I will have my answer.”
“There is one such establishment seven streets away.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “It is called Via Vejovis.”
Her eyes lit up. “Show me the back exit.”
After much dithering from the old man, and many threats on Freida’s part, the apothecary guided her through the back streets of the shopping district. He stopped at a dangerous-looking street and said, “What you are looking for is three roads in and on the left.”
Freida stuck her nose in the air. “You may leave.” She didn’t check to see the depth of the man’s bow. In mere minutes, she would hold the key to her happy future with her One True Love. And she would go back to Vern and show Father she was not to be banished or trifled with.
She crossed the cobbled road and entered the insalubrious shopping district. Although it was a summer afternoon, and the sun was in its zenith, the close quarters of the buildings meant that the streets were cast in shadow. Once she’d passed the first set of limestone shops, she found the other buildings were made of less grand materials. Freida pulled her lightweight cloak around her shoulders, wishing it was thicker.
A bulking figure of a man, obscured by a hooded cloak stood in the corner, flipping a coin. She sauntered up to him. “You there. Tell me the location of an enchantress or special alchemist.”
He straightened. “And what would you want with such a person, My Lady?”
Fists balled, she stamped her feet. “Address me properly. It’s Your Highness!”
“Oh, ho ho ho!” The man…no, creature, straightened to its full height of nearly seven-feet. It attempted to bow with a flourish, but it didn’t have the same flair as Wilfred. “Allow me to be your guide.”
Despite her skin prickling with apprehension, Freida swallowed back her fear and took the proffered bulky arm. He led her around corner after corner, deeper into the ghetto, until they reached a ramshackle building. Even more hulking types stood around. This far away from civilization, the streets were less than two feet in width, and lanterns provided shoddy lighting.
“What do you have here, Basalt?”
“This one’s a Princess,” said her thug.
The creatures surrounded her and took off their hoods, revealing pale skin which reminded Freida of elephant hide. She opened her mouth to scream, but a palm the size of a dinner plate clamped over her face.
“Are you the Princess of Vern?” said the leader. She nodded, her eyes wide. “This one is worthless as a hostage. My spy heard the servants’ gossip in the tavern. Nobody likes her. No one of import would go to her rescue. Let’s just twist off her neck.”
Freida pushed down the hand. “Armin loves me.”
The trolls laughed, and the one who had abducted her bellowed, “This idiot was looking for a love spell!”
Shaking his head, the leader chuckled. “You must be trying to ensnare the spare, because your kiss isn’t enticing enough to restore the frog. She’s too pathetic to kill.”
Freida bristled. “I will have you know that I refused to kiss the frog because I want to marry Armin. And no, the love potion isn’t for him.”
“Prove to us this Prince Armin loves you,” said the leader.
She raised her chin. “Very well. I’ll get him to kiss me in the middle of his birthday ball tonight.”
“The pond is more romantic,” the leader mused.
She nodded. “The pond it is. I’ll ask him to meet me there, and we’ll kiss, and I’ll prove you wrong.”
“At sundown,” said the leader.
“Fine.”
The trolls glanced at each other and grinned. They probably wanted to watch a beautiful Princess be ravished by a handsome Prince, the reprobates. Freida shook hands with the leader and left with the first troll. He guided her out of the darkened maze of slums until she could see the light from the back streets of the shopping district.
She found the guards and returned to the palace with a plan on her mind. Armin was too shy and proper to meet her for an assignation by the pond, no matter how much he would want to, so she needed to think of a way to lure him to the spot.
The key to Armin’s heart was his brother. When she reached the palace, dinner was waiting for her by the pond. She sat at the table, and Alec jumped on a rock to berate her. The frog’s croaking put her off the succulent lamb cutlets, and she set down her knife and fork.
“Fine. I’ll kiss you.”
Alec stopped, and his froggy eyes widened.
“Yes, I know we don’t love each other, but we have a betrothal contract. That has to count for something. Hop onto my hand.”
The frog hesitated, but she gave it an encouraging smile. With an almighty leap, Alec jumped into her palm. She suppressed a shudder at his cool, slimy touch. With her other hand, she unlatched the box.
“Close your eyes. It’s more romantic that way.”
The frog obeyed her directions, and she tipped it into the box and wiped her hand on the tablecloth. Part one of her plan was complete. Next, she hid the box by the gazebo and went out in search of her One True Love. He was easy enough to find, as she had bullied a passing maid into directing her to his chambers.
Armin opened the door. “Yes?”
Freida made her lip wobble. “Your brother isn’t in his pond.”
His eyes widened, and he rushed down the hallway. Freida grinned. People were so easy to manipulate. All she needed to do was get him into position. He could ravish her on the dinner table in full sight of the servants. Then the King would insist they be wed.
She jogged after Armin, and as soon as they reached the pond, the trolls sprang out from the bushes. One of them punched him hard on the face, knocking him to the ground. She clamped her hand over her mouth and continued forward. “What are you doing? He won’t be able to ravish me in this state!”
The leader of the trolls grinned and bowed. “The nation of Tundra is in your debt, Your Highness.”
Her mouth fell open. She wanted to call the guards, but if they caught the trolls and questioned them, she would be hung for treason. The wretched creatures would frame her for arranging the abduction of a Crown Prince. Instead, she rushed back inside, telling herself to forget about what she’d witnessed. Armin was strong and handsome. Once he woke from his stupor, he would defeat the trolls and fight his way back to her. She gave herself a shaky nod and went to the powder room to prepare herself for his birthday celebration.
Hours later, the seamstress knocked on the door. She had been sitting in the powder room, staring at her hands, and time had escaped her.
“Your Highness, your escort has arrived.”
She stood and opened the door, not quite expecting to see a disheveled Armin, but hoping he had escaped the trolls. It wasn’t her One True Love, but a younger, paler lookalike. A pit of apprehension opened up in her belly.
He bowed. “Prince Wilhelm of Clement, at your service.”
Freida swallowed back her disappointment and raised her chin. “I hope you can at least waltz.”
The boy grinned and launched into a monologue about all his lessons. Apparently, he was Armin’s first cousin on his father’s side. Freida let the chatter wash over her and tried not to think about her One True Love
. She needed to have faith that he would reach her.
She ditched the young chatterbox as soon as she spotted Gwynter, the Princess of Hibern. The two of them stood on the edge of the dance floor, waving their fans at various suitors. Cousin Marcassin arrived, and she flushed, remembering her display at the failed wedding.
“Cousin Freida.” He kissed her hand.
“Good to see you,” she replied.
Marcassin inclined his head at Gwynter, who batted her eyelashes at him.
“Princess Margot of Estiv, and her husband, Don Giovanni de La Fortuna,” the herald announced.
Freida’s head snapped to the entrance. The stench associated with the man was absent, and standing next to Princess Margot was a man even more handsome than Armin.
Marcassin leaned into her. “Isn’t that the name of—”
“Yes,” she snapped.
His eyes lit up. “Ah. I see!”
“What?”
“It’s obvious. He must have been under an enchantment to look like a dirty vagabond until one kind soul gave him a chance. Kind of like me. Underneath my wild boar enchantment was a handsome Prince.”
Freida turned to Marcassin’s jowly face and flickered her gaze over his protruding gut. She was about to tell him that she’d seen swineherds with better looks than him, when the herald announced, “His Highness, the Crown Prince Armin and guest!”
She turned, and she sight she beheld brought a feeling of ice water being flushed through her insides.
Armin stood at the entrance, sporting a wicked-looking bruise on his temple. On his arm was the most devastatingly beautiful blonde. From her tall stature, it was clear that this was the warrior woman she’d heard the servants raving about. According to them, the woman had rescued the family of Lord Florian, the Earl of Brise, from Long Don Cipriano. Although she wore a beautiful blue gown, it didn’t flow quite right. It appeared to be hastily pieced together. Freida wondered whether the Warrior Woman had damaged it while fighting the trolls to save Armin.
And judging by the besotted daze in the eyes of her One True Love, his passions had moved to his rescuer.
Beastly Bride: A Frog Prince Retelling (Perrault Chronicles) Page 4