The Green-Eyed Prince: A Retelling of The Frog Prince (The Classical Kingdoms Collection Novellas Book 1)

by Brittany Fichter

  Kartek swallowed but couldn’t get the sudden lump out of her throat. She missed Ahmos so much it hurt. But she needed to talk to someone before she faced the night alone or she might just burst. “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “And what would that be?”

  “I married him three days ago. He has shared my chambers. We’ve broken bread together.” She frowned. “We even argued and fought. He saved my life and I saved his.” She looked up into Cantara’s eyes. “So why do I feel so afraid?”

  Cantara played with a tassel on her skirt. It was a long moment before she spoke. “You have always been such a conscientious soul.” The soft smile melted from her face. “When your parents died, you made taking their places look effortless.”

  “Oh, but it wasn’t!”

  “Believe me, I know. But you made it look so, largely because it was simply your nature to accept burdens without question. I don’t know if I should be telling you this . . . but Ahmos and I and several of the other alders would often speak, worrying that you were taking on too much too soon.” She gave Kartek a sad smile. “You are only seventeen years. While wise beyond your age, it is unreasonable . . . even wrong to expect you to bear so much on your own. And not to speak poorly of the dead, but we worried that marrying Gahiji under the circumstances of your parents’ deaths might make your burden unbearable.”

  “How so?”

  “He was an efficient leader and never hesitated to ask those around him to do what they could to make his life and reign more productive. And you never learned how to say no.”

  Kartek’s immediate instinct was to defend Gahiji, but she knew deep down that Cantara was right.

  “So when we learned that you had made your bargain with Unsu at the well, the alders prayed to the Maker for wisdom. Should we prohibit you from carrying out your word? That would reflect poorly on all of Hedjet and set a bad precedent for your reign. But what if he were a monster or spy? We couldn’t allow you to wed your doom. Of course, we didn’t know it was Unsu at the time, but after meeting him soon after, I couldn’t help wondering if he was an answer to our prayers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You thrive on order and predictability. Unsu was unexpected, and your marriage to him spontaneous. Perhaps you are afraid now because you can’t predict what he shall do. Unlike Gahiji, he seems to truly wish to take care of you.” Her soft brown eyes searched Kartek’s thoughtfully. “In the few times I met him, Gahiji never attempted to protect your heart or your interests outside of basic political gain. But Unsu . . . he has done differently from the start.” She let out a short laugh. “Forced marriage excluded, of course.”

  “But I wasn’t afraid when I was betrothed to Gahiji . . . not like this,” Kartek said. “What if I ruin it? I want . . . I want happiness. I want to love him. But what if I ruin it?”

  “It’s strange what undeserved love can do to us.” Cantara smiled and stood. “It makes us vulnerable. Vulnerability is frightening. But we all need a soft spot. Even the strongest of emeeris and jahiras need to let someone be their weakness.” She began to walk away, but Kartek grabbed her hand.

  “Where do I go from here? The people are just now coming out from hiding. Our warriors are few and many are still recovering.” She shrugged weakly. “Even the tribes are without protection.”

  Cantara reached down and squeezed her hand. “Perhaps instead of charging ahead, you should take life one day at a time. Or better yet, one hour at a time.” She glanced up and nodded at the other side of the hall. “Starting with your husband.”

  16

  One Hour at a Time

  As Cantara walked away, pausing only to bow to Unsu, Kartek found her stomach tightening anew.

  He really was striking in the light of the setting sun. Green eyes glistened like jade, and the contrast of his dark hair with his lightly sun-kissed skin was surprisingly beautiful. Though shorter and much more slender than Gahiji had been, there was a quiet strength about him. Where Gahiji had exuded confidence and superiority, Unsu was watchful and steady.

  Kartek wondered now how she hadn’t recognized his green eyes from the start. Despite the constant attention she’d paid to her former betrothed, she now recalled admiring Unsu’s eyes more than once. He had always been present when she was visiting. It struck her now that she had hardly ever paid him heed. The one time she had paused to compliment his eyes, Gahiji had snorted and replied that such features as Unsu’s green eyes and golden skin were simply reminders that marriage to northerners bred nothing but weakness.

  Now Unsu stood before her dressed in the clothes of his rightful rank and heritage, signifying his position not only as Hedjet’s emeeri, but as the commander of the ten tribes as well. His dark hair was pulled back into a warrior’s tie, and he stood rigid, as though ready to fight at the first sign of danger.

  Not that Kartek could blame him. He’d lived through enough danger in the past few days to last a lifetime.

  She stood and motioned for him to join her. As soon as they were inside their chambers and the door was shut behind them again, however, the room felt stifling and a thousand times smaller than it had even the day before. Kartek tried to look composed as she sat down on her side of the trays of food and wine that had already been laid out by the servants. After saying a quiet prayer in thanks for the food, they began to eat. The only comfort Kartek found in the silence was that he appeared to feel just as awkward as she did.

  This was a wonderful way to start a marriage.

  Finally, he cleared his throat. “I suppose I owe you an explanation. I apologize that I will be giving it on the same night that I must go.”

  Kartek felt her heart fall, though she wasn’t sure why. “Go? Are you leaving?”

  “Only temporarily.” He sighed. “The tribes are gnashing their teeth at one another. They’ve never been so close for so long. As Rayis, my primary responsibility is to ensure that they don’t all kill one another before they can get off in their respective directions.” His voice hardened. “I also need to deal with Jibril.”

  “Jibril? The tribal leader of the Ibhari?”

  He nodded unhappily. “Before following you to the well the first time, I tried to find him. He had known my mother well. Surely, I thought, he would know me even under the curse. But he refused to see me. That’s when I knew I would need to go to you.”

  Kartek recalled her encounters with the older man. Only then did she remember how he had refused to admit that the Rayis had a true living heir. “What will you do to him?”

  “The tribes are meticulous in keeping our laws. He suppressed the knowledge of my position, even after Gahiji died.”

  “But when I asked about another Rayis, some of the other tribal leaders seemed suspicious when he refused to talk about it. Did they know, too?”

  “They had their suspicions, but only Jibril knew for sure.” Unsu frowned. “The other tribes won’t take kindly to that.”

  Kartek nodded. She didn’t need a description of how the tribes would deal with him. The tribes had a Rayis, and she was no longer in charge of their dealings. Only one individual from the Ibhari tribe was her concern now. “That makes sense, I suppose. But,” she bit her lip, suddenly feeling as though someone had turned her world upside-down, “when will I see you again?”

  He gave her a small smile that warmed her heart and her hopes, though again, she wasn’t sure why. “It may not have been an orthodox wedding, but you are now and will always be my wife. I’ll send word as soon as peace is restored and it’s safe for me to return here.” He leaned back a little. “But I can only guess you still have a few questions before I go.”

  “I admit that I find myself more than a little curious.”

  He laid his utensils on his plate and studied his food for a long minute before speaking. “I was born on the same night as my cousin Gahiji.”

  “So he truly is your cousin.”

  “Oh yes. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have had the blood require
ments to use the Warrior’s Song at all.”

  “And there is a marked difference between your calls?”

  “I am from the more direct line. Mine is stronger.”

  After hearing the song for herself that morning, Kartek believed it. “Why were you switched with Gahiji then?”

  He gave her a wry smile. “Our tribes believe in the Maker, or at least, we claim to do so, but we’re also highly superstitious. I was born pale and small compared to other children of our tribe. To say that my father and the other leaders of the Ibhari tribe were disappointed would be an understatement. It was bad luck, they said, to have a Rayis so sickly and light-skinned. No one would follow him. He wouldn’t be able to sire children. The tribes would destroy one another, and it would be all his fault.” He now glared down at his food, and Kartek had the sudden urge to hug him. “So when Gahiji was born in the same tent, and he was strong and dark…”

  “I see.” Kartek bit the inside of her cheek. “So how did you find out what they had done?”

  “You never met my mother. She died not long after I was born, and my father married again. But from what I can gather, to see me was to see her. And though I didn’t remember her, everyone knew that my mother had been a northerner, so it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together as I grew older.” He paused. “Actually, it was Marid who first encouraged me to find out who I really was.”

  “So how does she fit into all of this?”

  “As children, Marid was my closest friend. We did everything together. It probably wasn’t proper, but since Gahiji was the one who would inherit my father’s place as Rayis, my . . . parents cared little about how I spent my days. As long as I could fight well enough not to embarrass the family and I knew enough of names and politics not to offend any visiting emissaries, I was allowed to do as I pleased. Though, after I found out who I really was, I did spend a good amount of time trying to watch over my real sisters, though they only thought I was their older cousin, of course.”

  Kartek frowned at her lentils. “That doesn’t seem right.”

  He shrugged, pushing his own lentils around in their bowl. “It didn’t bother me much at first. I had no desire to fill Gahiji’s role. And as Marid and I were from the same tribe, as long as I practiced my weaponry enough and stayed out of the way, we were allowed to run free.”

  As much as she hated to admit it, Kartek was beginning to see why Marid had felt such a strong sense of entitlement to Unsu. She tried to imagine what it must have been like to lose such a close friend, particularly one who had been treated so ill. But she couldn’t imagine. Because she’d never had one. Not one her age, at least.

  “What happened between you?” She tried to keep her voice unattached and cool. Still, it was hard. What if he still had feelings for Marid after all this time? He had just killed the woman who had professed to love him, the girl he had grown up with. What if he resented Kartek for forcing him into such a position?

  He took a long sip of wine. “She began to change. About the time we reached fourteen years, she left with her family to visit an old uncle in the east. They were gone for months. When she returned, she spoke of nothing but this power she had learned from her aunt. When she showed me, I knew immediately that it was dark power.” He shook his head. “Our tribes might be infamous for our ferocity and fearlessness, but even we do not allow such dangerous foolishness within our tents.”

  “I suppose she didn’t wish to hear that,” Kartek said.

  “You could say that. She had always been predisposed to fits of anger or petulance when she didn’t get her way, but I, in my naiveté, had always thought it funny and even endearing, as I was often the only one who could coax her out of such tantrums. It made me feel important.” He shook his head. “Anyhow, after I told her I would have nothing to do with her newfound powers, she tried to manipulate me into convincing my parents to allow us to marry.”

  Kartek leaned forward. “Did you?”

  “No. Gahiji caught wind of the plot she’d hatched with her friend to put a potion in my drink, and he called them out. It caused a great upheaval within the tribe. Her family was banished.”

  Kartek wanted desperately to look him in the eyes, but she couldn’t raise her gaze from her food. Part of her was dying to ask the question. The other part of her was pleading not to. For some reason, and she couldn’t understand why, she felt as though one little word might break her. He had said before that he loved her. But was it true? Or just another part of the ruse? Had the spell forced him to say that as well?

  One hour at a time, Cantara had said.

  Kartek might need to try one minute at a time first.

  “You said . . . you said you loved me,” she whispered.

  “You mean how could I love you after losing someone like Marid?”

  Flushing, she nodded at the ground. So it surprised her when a hand gently cupped her face and lifted it up to meet his eyes.

  “I never envied Gahiji anything before I met you. Not strength nor height nor ability nor even stolen birthright. But the day you walked into our tent with your parents, one of my sisters dropped her toy. You picked it up immediately, rather than waiting for a servant to do it. And not only did you hand it to her, you paused to speak with her, brushing the doll off and smiling as you did.” Unsu’s face darkened and his brows furrowed even deeper. “My cousin barked something at you to reclaim your attention, and for the first time in my life, I resented him. He’d missed the entire moment, the beauty of the little kindness. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how insecure Gahiji really was, despite all he had. And every time you visited after that, I only saw him grow coarser and more possessive of you, as though you were a pretty little doll for him to display to all those who would call on him or visit his domain. He got particularly bad about it after my father and his new wife died and left Gahiji in command.”

  Kartek sat in silence, unable to move. She had forgotten all about that first meeting with Gahiji. Perhaps she had forgotten on purpose. After all, forgetting was easier than facing the truth that her husband-to-be had fallen far short of her girlhood dream of love.

  “But I hardly ever spoke to you,” she whispered.

  “You didn’t have to. What you did was far louder than any of the soft words my cousin ever let you squeeze in edgewise.”

  Kartek stood and went to her window. She could hear Unsu stand and follow her.

  “Marid said she knew you loved me. How would she know that if she was banished?”

  “Her family stayed close by. Though they didn’t pitch their tent within the camp, they were always within sight, and many times one of them would sneak in and out of the camp to find food. It wouldn’t have been hard for her to slip in uninvited while my cousin was holding one of his audiences to show you off.”

  Though Kartek understood the key that such a union would play in the peace of the Megal Desert, she couldn’t help but wonder at her parents’ choice. Had they held any misgivings after seeing the way he treated her? She had been too young to know any better, but they were too wise not to. What were they thinking? Not as politicians, but as parents?

  “Marid approached me several years later and confronted me once when I was alone.”

  Kartek gathered the courage to look back up at him. This time, Unsu’s smile was suddenly shy, and she wondered if he was possibly blushing or if it was simply the sunset reddening his face through the window.

  “During your previous visit, you had mentioned to Gahiji that you thought my eyes were striking.” He looked down at his hands. “I knew you’d meant nothing personal by it, but the compliment meant the world to me. And Marid had been present long enough to hear it and interpret my reaction. I was pleased, unimportant as the observation had been, and she knew it. After you had gone and I was alone, she came to me and accused me of being in love with you.”

  “What did you say?” Kartek whispered, not trusting her voice to speak aloud.

  “I denied it. He was my cou
sin, you were his betrothed, and despite his faults, we loved each other like brothers. The last thing I wished to do was steal his bride. But after she left, her accusation continued to haunt me until I could deny it no longer. I had fallen for you over the years of visiting back and forth and seeing you even when you didn’t see me. I began to understand what a poor choice for a wife someone like Marid would make, even without the darkness. She still indulged every emotion she felt, and only apologized when it best fit her interests. But you.” He lifted his hands hesitantly until they were just touching her arms, making her skin tingle. “You were different.”

  Kartek’s heart beat like a war drum, but she found herself taking a step closer. He gently took her by the shoulders and held her there as though he were touching the finest of glass ornaments, one that might shatter at the smallest breath. And as much as she did feel like a fragile piece of glass, there was also an excitement that bubbled up in the depths of her belly. It made her wish he would pull her closer. That rebel desire wiggled its way into her senses, wanting him to touch her face, her neck. To pull her into the arms she’d fought so hard to stay away from until now.

  Gahiji had never awakened such desires within her.

  As if he could hear her thoughts, he gingerly reached up with one hand and ran the tips of his fingers down the side of her face.

  No. Gahiji had never made her feel like this.

  “So what happened next?” she breathed, trying to gain control of her senses once more.

  She regretted the question as soon as she’d asked it, for he frowned, and his hands dropped to his sides. Turning back to the window, he folded his arms across his chest. “One of the disadvantages of being cousin to the Rayis is finding that everyone else knows what is best for you, no matter what age you reach. After my parents died, Gahiji decided I would do best to stay behind with the women whenever he took the warriors out to meet the other tribes. Not that I wished to fight, but . . .” He let out a gusty breath. “I wanted to at least be seen as a man, if nothing else. I think he was also afraid I might not be as weak as everyone had once thought. That’s when I began to learn the trade of healing. I was going mad with nothing productive to do.” He shook his head. “Anyway, it seemed Marid also knew what was best for me. In her infinite wisdom, she decided that I would be best served by regaining my inheritance through the death of my cousin and younger half-brother. I had been destined for greater things, she told me later, than sitting behind and watching the others gain the glory. So she took it upon herself to alter my situation by killing Gahiji, my younger brother, and the tribe’s warriors one day while they were out training for battle.”