A Midwinter's Wedding: A Retelling of The Frog Prince

by Melanie Cellier

  Only when the conversation turned to horses did she speak up.

  “I wanted to bring Butterscotch, my riding mare, with me, but the journey was too long. I’ve been hoping you might have a horse I could ride here.”

  William’s smile turned in her direction. “You enjoy riding? Then it would be my honour to provide you with a mount and ride with you. I could show you something of Northgate and its surrounds.”

  “I would like that.” She opened her mouth to ask a question about the horse he had in mind for her, but the conversation had already moved on. She looked back down at her food and reminded herself of William’s admiring expression at her arrival.

  That moment had been everything she had dreamed it would be. So why did she still feel out-of-place?

  The snow had stopped by the next morning, and only a light powdering remained to lend Northgate and the palace a storybook air. Cordelia dressed in her warmest outfit and found her way outside to admire the view. She ended up in a small garden behind the palace and sat down on an ornate bench next to a pond. The water hadn’t completely frozen solid yet, but a thin film of ice spread across the surface. The sight made her shiver inside her warm jacket.

  She plonked her bag on the bench beside her and turned her face up to the winter sun. She enjoyed the warmth of the rays, even while she mourned the inevitability of their melting the dusting of snow that still clung to the plants around her. In the absence of flowers, the white coating made the otherwise barren garden beautiful.

  After several moments, she sighed and turned to her bag. Priscilla didn’t approve of idleness, so Cordelia had brought her embroidery with her. Given her maid’s propensity to appear at unwanted moments, it seemed wise to at least have one of her current work pieces out in view.

  Rummaging through the contents, her hand hit something solid. She frowned. She had thought the bag felt heavier than usual. Pulling the stowaway out, she recognised Celeste’s golden ball. She now remembered having put it in the embroidery bag to keep it safe.

  It was an odd present, and she hoped Marie wouldn’t find it too strange. Hopefully Rafe had already warned his betrothed about Celeste’s curse. Cordelia examined it again, remembering her sister’s words about magic and true love. Could it be true that the ball was a magic artefact? If it came from their godmother, it was possible.

  She rolled it around in her hands. It certainly felt far too light for a ball made of gold. She threw it into the air, and it landed back in her hand with a satisfying thud. Smiling, she threw it again, higher this time.

  When she reached to catch it a second time, her half numb fingers slipped, and the ball fell from her hand and straight into the pond. Light or not, it cracked the ice and disappeared from sight.

  Chapter 4

  Cordelia sat frozen, staring at the pond in dismay. After a moment, she dropped to her knees and dipped one hand into the water. Gasping, she pulled it back and tucked it under her arm. Her hand ached from the mere second it had spent in the icy water. She would never be able to plunge her whole arm in and feel around for the missing ball. She chewed the inside of her cheek.

  “Have you lost something?” The deep, male voice sounded friendly. Cordelia stayed kneeling, reluctant to discover who it belonged to. Could she look more foolish?

  She pushed up off the ground and back onto the bench before turning to greet the newcomer. To her relief, the man in uniform was hardly a handsome prince. In fact, he more closely resembled a frog. He stepped forward and his bow-legged gait only confirmed the impression made by his slightly bulbous eyes.

  She blinked twice and then managed to compose herself. “I’m afraid I have. It was rather silly of me, but I’ve dropped a golden ball into this pond.”

  “Well, that’s no trouble at all.” The men stepped forward and waded into the water, breaking the rest of the ice. He felt around with his feet before exclaiming, “Ah-ha!” and reaching down into the water to retrieve the golden ball.

  Smiling at her, he waded back out, dried the trinket on his jacket and presented it to her.

  She stared up at him in astonishment before accepting it. He gave no indication of having felt the bone-chilling cold that had prevented her from retrieving the ball herself. She regretted her earlier uncharitable thoughts about his appearance. Someone from the Lanoverian royal family should know better than anyone that beauty is relative, and hardly a marker for inward virtue.

  She looked down at the gold in her hands and wished she hadn’t spent so much of her first few hours in Northgate feeling small and foolish. Perhaps the Lanoverians weren’t actually to blame for always overlooking her.

  “You’ll have to find yourself some mittens.” Her rescuer’s words sounded friendly rather than condemning, and Cordelia found the courage to look up at him.

  She had been so distracted by the strangeness of his features at first, that she had failed to notice the friendliness of his expression. Friendly and admiring, given the way his eyes lingered on her face.

  “Mittens?”

  “To keep your fingers warm.”

  “Oh, yes, of course…” she eyed the insignia on his jacket, “…captain?”

  “It’s major, I’m afraid.” He sounded apologetic.

  “Oh, sorry!” Cordelia hadn’t had time to learn the different emblems of the Northhelmian military before leaving home, but she did know that a major outranked a captain. Thankfully her rescuer didn’t seem like the easily offended type.

  “That’s quite all right.” His cheerfulness was unabated. “I’m Ferdinand, by the way.”

  “Ferdinand? As in, Prince William’s friend?”

  Ferdinand looked a little alarmed. “That’s me. I can’t say my fame has ever preceded me before. I’m a little afraid to ask what he might have said about me.”

  “It was Princess Marie, actually. She just mentioned that you were a good friend of her brother’s.”

  Ferdinand relaxed and smiled again. “Oh, that’s all right then. I won’t have to punish William in that case.”

  Cordelia looked at him, startled. Was he allowed to joke about punishing the crown prince?

  Ferdinand gave a chuckle at her expression. He waved at his insignia. “I’m not just his childhood friend, you know. I’m also his commanding officer. It’s my solemn duty to whip him into shape and make sure he doesn’t get too big for himself.”

  Cordelia relaxed and smiled back at him. “I’m sure you do an excellent job.”

  “I certainly do my best.” The major gave a small bow. “And talking of my job, I really must get going. I’m overdue for patrol.” He moved to the other side of the garden and untangled the reins of his horse from a bush. How had she missed the presence of the beautiful animal?

  Ferdinand swung himself into the saddle, and his entire demeanour changed. All trace of the awkwardness that clung to his stride disappeared. He turned back towards her and reached up to doff his hat in her direction.

  Cordelia stared at him, recognising both his mount and the way he held himself on the horse. “Why, you’re the man from yesterday!”

  Ferdinand looked crestfallen. “I was hoping you wouldn’t recognise me. I’m sorry for behaving so rudely. I didn’t realise any of the royals had arrived yet, so you took me by surprise. I don’t usually attend many palace functions, and I’m afraid I’m not very good at making small talk with beautiful princesses. When I saw you, I panicked. Not my finest hour.” He shifted in the saddle. “When it comes to my squad, I have no problem knocking heads together. If only the same were true for lovely women, such as yourself.”

  Cordelia hid a laugh behind her hand. “You’d like to knock our heads together?”

  “Oh! No! See, there you go–what did I say? I’m not one for pretty talk. William’s the one you need for that sort of thing.”

  “Yes, the prince has been very kind.” Cordelia hated the traitorous blush that crept up her face.

  Sure enough, Ferdinand’s eyes focussed in on her cheeks. “Ah yes.
I’m sure he’s charmed you already.” He sounded glum. “My parents wish I could be more like him. But just look at me. It’s entirely out of the question.” He waved vaguely in the direction of his face. “They only have themselves to blame, anyway,” he muttered quietly.

  Cordelia couldn’t reassure him about his looks–he was the oddest-looking man she’d ever seen–but she knew all about feeling overlooked and outshined.

  “At least they have expectations of you,” she said, hoping to make him feel better. “My parents can’t even remember my name correctly sometimes.”

  He grinned down at her, and the admiration in his eyes made her feel almost as good as Prince William’s regard had done.

  “I find that hard to believe,” he said. “I know I could never mistake you for anyone else.”

  Cordelia sighed. “That’s because you haven’t met any of my sisters.” She looked up and noticed an involuntary shiver shake his frame.

  “Oh dear,” she said, struck with worry. “You must be freezing! You can’t go out on patrol wet through like that. Please tell me you’ll go and change. I’d feel terrible if you got sick because of my clumsiness.”

  “It is rather chilly,” Ferdinand admitted. “And I’d hate to cause you worry. I think I might dash back inside. If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness.”

  “Cordelia, please.”

  Ferdinand smiled at her. “That’s very kind of you to say, Your Highness.”

  Cordelia watched Ferdinand until he disappeared from sight and then returned the ball to her embroidery bag. She would stay inside until she had managed to acquire some mittens.

  Making her way back through the gardens, Cordelia heard voices behind a large hedge. She paused to listen, trying to identify why they sounded so familiar.

  “The Arcadians arrive in two days.”

  She stiffened. The mysterious speakers from the courtyard.

  “They do indeed. But what I want to know is what you’re doing lurking out here.” The noble voice sounded less than pleased.

  “I’m not doing any harm.” The gruff notes in the second voice suggested displeasure. “I thought I’d keep an eye on the Lanoverian princess.”

  Cordelia put a hand over her mouth and tried to eliminate all sound of her breathing. He had been spying on her. She shuddered.

  “I’ve told you already that we have no interest in her. You’re not being paid to have your own ideas.”

  He paused, but the first voice had no reply to this. After a moment the noble continued. “For now, you need to ensure that the Arcadians are assigned to the expected set of rooms. And the Rangmerans, too, when they arrive in a couple of weeks. Don’t get creative!”

  “Yes, sir.” The agreement sounded sullen, but apparently it satisfied the noble since the sound of receding footsteps followed the words.

  Cordelia held her breath but neither of them came in her direction. When she was sure they had left the garden, she picked up her skirts and ran for the palace. Her earlier unease was confirmed. Something strange was going on in Northhelm.

  Chapter 5

  Still unfamiliar with the layout of the palace, it took Cordelia some effort to track Rafe down. It turned out that he was being fitted for his suit for the wedding, and Cordelia was only allowed into the room once she convinced the conscientious tailor’s assistant that she was his sister.

  When she entered, he held out both arms. “Well, sis, what do you think?”

  The tailor frowned and pulled his arms back down before returning to pinning the bottom of the jacket.

  “Very handsome,” said Cordelia.

  Rafe raised his eyebrows. “That’s the best you can do? I’m disappointed.”

  Cordelia shook her head, not in the mood for her brother’s joking ways. “I need to speak to you.”

  “What is it? Is something wrong?” Rafe’s smile dropped away in response to her seriousness.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. I think so?”

  Rafe’s grin crept back across his face. “You’re not making much sense, Dellie.”

  Cordelia threw up her hands and sat down on a convenient chair. “I know. It’s all a bit confusing.”

  “Well, this fellow should be finished soon. And then you can tell me all about it.”

  “Certainly, Your Highness,” said the tailor. “I shall only be another moment.”

  He proceeded to take another twenty minutes, by the end of which Cordelia was bursting with impatience.

  When the room was finally cleared, she poured out the story to her brother, repeating everything she had heard as exactly as possible. At the end of the story, she looked at her brother expectantly.

  He frowned at her. “Well it was certainly wrong of the servant to be spying on you, but it sounds like he was reprimanded for it. Would you prefer to see him more severely punished?”

  “What?” Cordelia eyed her brother, startled. “Punished? No, that’s not what I mean at all. I’m worried. It sounds like they’re planning something.”

  “Planning something?” Rafe smiled at her. “It sounds to me like they were planning the palace sleeping arrangements. Hardly a surprising occupation for palace servants expecting multiple royal delegations. With the wedding planned for Midwinter morning, the normal week’s celebrations have been expanded. The whole thing sounds like it’s getting rather excessive, to be honest.” He smiled affectionately. “But Marie tells me to keep my nose out of it whenever I try to suggest such a thing.”

  Palace servants? Cordelia suddenly doubted herself. Had she misinterpreted the whole thing? Had her anxiety about being in a new place led her to put a dark interpretation on an innocent conversation?

  Her instincts told her no. Rafe hadn’t been there to hear the subtleties of their tone and inflection. And one of the voices had definitely belonged to a noble. As the sixth child of seven, Cordelia had always been a good listener. Unnoticed and unobserved, she had lurked through many a conversation not meant for her ears. She knew what she had heard.

  But her hesitation seemed enough to convince Rafe. “Don’t worry, Dellie. There’s no need to fear every shadow. The royal guard have dealt with the rebel problem. Well, it was Marie who dealt with them mostly.” He looked proud. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “But, Rafe…”

  Cordelia’s attempts to argue with him were cut off by a footman who appeared in the doorway. “Excuse me, Your Highnesses. But Princess Marie sent me to find you. She needs Princess Cordelia for a dress fitting.”

  Rafe jumped up. “We don’t want to keep her waiting, then. She hates those things. I’ll show you the way.”

  “Dress fitting?” Cordelia followed him down the corridor.

  “Oh, sorry. I was meant to ask you about it. Marie wants you to be an attendant at the wedding. Along with Princess Alyssa and a few of the Northhelmian nobility.”

  “A bride’s attendant? Really?” Cordelia’s voice squeaked on the final word. She had been one years before at Clarisse’s wedding, but she had been unexcited about it at the time. Everyone already had a difficult enough time noticing her apart from her sisters without them all being dressed identically too. This time, however, would be different.

  “Really.” Rafe grinned in response to her expression. “I thought you’d be pleased.” He opened a door and ushered her through. But when he tried to follow, his path was blocked by two determined looking seamstresses.

  “Absolutely not, Your Highness,” said one of them.

  “Just for a moment,” he said, flashing his most charming smile. “One kiss, and then I’ll be gone.”

  “Absolutely not,” repeated the second one.

  Cordelia couldn’t help smiling at their united front. “Sorry, Rafe, I don’t like your chances this time.”

  She left him at the door still arguing with the two women and went looking for Marie.

  “Cordelia! You’ve arrived, thank goodness.” Marie rushed over and grabbed her arm, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“We’ve already had two fittings before this one and the wedding is still weeks away. I think if the royal seamstress had her way, we’d all do nothing but get in and out of dresses until Midwinter.”

  Two assistants hurried over and took charge of Cordelia before she could reply. And before she knew what was happening, she was out of her gown and being fitted for the dress she would wear at the wedding.

  Marie had apparently chosen a pale, ice blue for her bride’s attendants. A colour that almost perfectly matched her own eyes and pale complexion.

  “Sorry,” she said, seeming to read Cordelia’s mind. “It isn’t the best fit with your colouring, is it? It’s a good thing you’re gorgeous enough that you’ll look lovely in anything I put you in.”

  Cordelia opened her mouth to assure her that it didn’t matter, but Marie had already disappeared, stolen away by yet another seamstress. Cordelia closed her mouth again and proceeded to sit, stand and move her arms as directed.

  Eventually she was told to sit on a sofa. After that they appeared to forget about her, so she sat there for some time watching the bustle around her. It was hard to believe that a mere hour before, she’d been running through the palace in a panic. The emotion seemed distant now and out of place. Northhelm was a kingdom getting ready to celebrate, not a kingdom in crisis. Maybe Rafe was right and she had let her imagination get the better of her.

  “It’s a bit much to take in, isn’t it?” Another girl sat down beside her. “You look about as overwhelmed as I feel.”

  The young woman was beautiful, in the blue-eyed, golden-haired northern style, but more noticeable was the kindness in her eyes. She made Cordelia feel instantly at ease.

  “It is a bit.” Cordelia smiled at her. “I’m Princess Cordelia of Lanover, by the way. Are you one of the other attendants?”