The Frog Prince (Timeless Fairy Tales Book 9)

by K. M. Shea

  Lucien swiveled his bulbous eyes in Severin’s direction. “And who will stop me?”

  “I will,” Ariane said calmly.

  Princess Elle grinned and briefly squeezed Ariane’s arm. “I do so like you. You are such a treasure.”

  Lucien shouted when Esses—who was still snuggled against Elle, batted a paw at him. “Get that dratted cat away from me, Elle.” He sniffed disdainfully. “Everyone is against me this morning!”

  Ariane tried to pitch her voice lower. “You seem out of sorts—perhaps a swim in the pond or a stint as Princess Golden Curls would soothe your temper?”

  “Rejected! You cold-hearted-maid!”

  Ariane smiled as she carried the protesting prince to the first meal of the day, her new handkerchief still secured in her pocket for the moment.

  Regardless of the danger, I am proud to be included in this.

  Chapter 8

  Romantic Realizations

  Tea time was held in the gardens that afternoon. Ariane was surprised Lucien was allowed outdoors, but a quick squint around the area revealed archers on the chateau roof, and guards lining the gardens with giant vases blocking off the paths that would lead into different gardens.

  Additionally, Severin was now flanked by “representatives” from the Loire army—though the officers were clearly armed to the teeth and ready for a fight.

  Prince Severin is quite thorough.

  “Ariane—are you listening? I don’t want that tea cake; I want the pink one,” Lucien said.

  Ariane watched one of the new Loire representatives march past as she mindlessly picked up a pink tea cake and gave it to Lucien.

  The frog prince was seated on his cushion and eagerly reached out for the treat. He shoved most of the miniature cake in his mouth and swallowed. He tried to lick his mouth, but was either still unused to dealing with his frog body or he severely overestimated the shot, as his tongue darted from his mouth, and he whacked himself in the right eye with it.

  “Ow!” Lucien fell backwards as if he had been punched. “That was…”

  “Bizarre?” Ariane suggested. She smiled and curtseyed a little as Princess Astra of Baris grabbed a cup of tea and winked at her.

  Lucien nodded—making his body jiggle. “I never imagined what it would be like to see my own tongue coming at me.”

  Ariane smiled and edged to the side so an Erlauf representative could reach the teatime treats. “Do you want anything else?”

  Lucien mournfully held the uneaten half of his pink tea cake. “No. That rather spoiled my appetite.”

  Ariane stepped away from the tables, retreating to the shade the chateau cast on a less populated section of the garden. “You didn’t enjoy licking your own eyeball?”

  “No.” Lucien played with his teacake for a moment, then glanced up at Ariane.

  “Yes?” she asked when it became apparent Lucien wanted to say something.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but they were interrupted by the boisterous selkie princess.

  “Prince Lucien, Mademoiselle Ariane!” Princess Dylan swept up to them, carrying a plate piled high with tea cakes and cookies. Her fiancé, Prince Callan, trailed in her wake. He wore an easy smile and carried two cups of tea. One of the other Ringsted representatives—the intelligent woman who was a particular friend of both the prince and princess—carried a similarly heaped plate of food. “Since the start of the Summit, the food has been nothing short of perfection. I must give my compliments to the cook. Could you tell me how to find the kitchens?” Dylan’s unusual eyes were bright with cheer as she nibbled on an almond cookie.

  “Umm…” Would Prince Severin mind if the representatives went traipsing about the private sections of his home? Ariane glanced down at Lucien, who gave her his frog version of a shoulder shrug. “What a fine help you are,” she muttered to him.

  “Do I look like I wander around, searching for kitchens?” Lucien asked.

  “Considering your passion for wine, yes.”

  “I’m sorry, did you say something?” Dylan asked as she took one of the tea cups from Prince Callan.

  Before Ariane could reply, someone strummed on a lyre, and the murmur of conversations grew louder as a flute joined in the song.

  “Oh!” Prince Callan said brightly. “That will be Dooley.”

  A giant man swung around a shrubbery, a rose clenched between his teeth. He was dressed in a dark green robe that had garish orange flowers embroidered into the fabric. A wreath of flowers was nestled into the unruly mop of his brown hair, and he winked at the representatives as he removed the rose from his mouth.

  “Ladies of astonishing beauty and elegance, gentlemen whose noble hearts pulse in their chests: spring has come to the continent, gifting us with the sweet kisses of flowers and songs of the birds. I am Dooley of the Wild Flower, and I have come to deliver the caress of spring.”

  The man threw a fistful of flower petals in the air, then extended his hand. “Come, let us frolic in the arms of spring!”

  Queen Linnea of Verglas studied the man with an expression that warred between interest and concern. “Should we call for the barber-surgeon? He seems sick in the head.”

  “Yes,” Prince Callan said, reclaiming Ariane’s attention. “Definitely Dooley.”

  “Excuse me, Your Highnesses. I have a murder to see to.” Cagney hissed. She shoved her plate into Prince Callan’s free hand and darted in the direction of the commotion. “Dooley!”

  “I think he’s leveled up his entrances.” Princess Dylan trailed after her murderous friend. “Has he had live music accompany him before?”

  Prince Callan turned to Ariane and Lucien, his smile still in place. “If you’ll excuse our abrupt exit, Your Highness, Mademoiselle.”

  Ariane watched Cagney storm up to Lord Dooley and shoo the musicians away. “The world is a big and…interesting place,” she said.

  Prince Lucien snorted.

  She shook her head and returned her attention to Lucien. “I apologize—you were about to say something?”

  Lucien rolled his half-eaten tea cake around his cushion, getting crumbs everywhere. “I wanted to speak to you.”

  Ariane nodded, but the prince was still silent. “Yes?” she prodded.

  “Due to the new safety measures…and with the second attack from the assassins…”

  Ariane plucked the remaining bit of tea cake from him lest he squash it and mash it into the fabric of his cushion. “Yes?” she repeated. She set his cushion on a bench, then gently nudged him off it before she shook it out, making crumbs scatter.

  “Bother,” he said. “I’m making a mess of this. What I mean to say is you don’t have to act as my keeper.”

  Ariane blinked and set his cushion back down.

  “I’m aware Severin and Elle explained the situation to you when you first agreed to this arrangement, but at that time we thought we would be able to stop the rogue mages, should they appear again. Unfortunately, we overestimated our strength, and the situation has become much more dangerous.” Lucien waddled across the bench. “I understand if you wish to return to your previous role. We can disguise a guard to be my cushion-carrier instead.”

  Surprised by the sudden rush of words, Ariane took a few moments to pick through his speech. “You don’t want me to leave, but you would understand if I chose to?”

  “Yes,” Lucien said. “This is dangerous, Ariane. And you don’t have the protection that I have as a spelled frog. Honestly, if I was half as selfish as I am or you half as interesting as you are, I would order you to resign.”

  Ariane’s surprise left, and she frowned. “Why?” she demanded.

  Lucien crawled back onto his cushion. “Because you could be hurt!”

  Ariane went back to staring at him once again. He cares if I’m hurt? “With the new precautionary measures, I believe both Henry and I are much safer.”

  His chest puffed. “Even the slightest chance of harm is unacceptable.”

  “Would you be sa
fer with a guard?” Ariane asked.

  “Not necessarily,” Lucien said. “I’m so heavily charmed and watched, I don’t think it would make much of a difference.”

  “Then it doesn’t matter, does it?”

  “But it does!” Lucien snapped. “And I fail to understand why you are so blasé about this ordeal!”

  Ariane studied the prince with a warm smile and an equally warm heart. It seems I’m not the only one who enjoys our time together. “For the moment, I feel confident enough in my safety that I am willing to continue. But thank you for your concern.”

  Lucien looked down at his cushion. “Are you sure?”

  Ariane’s chest squeezed at the uncertainty in Lucien’s voice. He is selfish, arrogant, and willful…but he still has a great capacity for love. “Yes.”

  The silence stretched between the two, and Ariane, aware she was wearing her heart on her sleeve, cleared her throat.

  “There you are, Prince Lucien, Mademoiselle Ariane!” Colonel Friedrich grinned as he meandered in their direction, shoulder-to-shoulder with Prince Severin. “Did you see that flashy Ringsted fellow’s entrance?”

  “Lord Dooley?” Lucien’s voice was back to its usual lofty tone. “Yes.”

  Colonel Friedrich adjusted his eyepatch. “He’s a brave fellow.”

  “I think he may be a dead fellow if Miss Cagney’s reaction was anything to go by,” Ariane said.

  Colonel Friedrich laughed. “That may be.”

  He looked like he wanted to say more, but Prince Severin slightly inclined his head at Ariane. “If you’ll excuse us, Ariane. Colonel Friedrich and I have military matters to discuss with Lucien. Please feel free to use this moment for yourself.”

  Ariane curtsied. “Of course, Your Highness.” She walked away from the trio but paused to glance over her shoulder to watch Lucien croak as he wiggled around on his cushion and nearly made it slide off the stone bench.

  Something in her heart moved. I love him. The realization felt like a ladder toppling when one was trying to clean the top shelves of a bookcase. (That was a frightening, free-fall experience Ariane had gone through more times than she cared to admit.)

  Shaking her head, Ariane hurried away from Lucien and his companions, following the wall of the chateau. She darted past a stone staircase that led into the building, then sat in a heap on a stone bench hidden on its other side.

  I am such an idiot. I knew I needed to be careful—I knew I could get my heart hurt. Why didn’t I take more precautions?

  It wasn’t the end of the world—not really. Ariane would sit on her feelings for Lucien until the Summit was over, and that would be the end of it. When they returned to Noyers, she would rarely see him, and once he was human again, he would carry on much as he had.

  But I will be stuck struggling to get over my ridiculous feelings. Ariane tried not to fume, but it was a humbling experience. She had always thought people who fell in love in a matter of days were gullible—and oblivious—fools. And now I am one of them—that will teach me.

  Ariane sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I am such an idiot.”

  “I must disagree.”

  Ariane nearly screamed at the intrusion, and she lowered her hands to find Princess Elle sitting on the bench next to her.

  The princess smiled sunnily. “Having feelings for someone does not make you a fool. It’s a wonderful thing.”

  Ariane felt the blood drain from her face. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I have been watching you and Lucien.” Elle said as a fat, fluffy dog with furry ears came charging up to them. “I have suspected for some time that your unlikely friendship was special to Lucien, but today was the first day I saw true evidence that you had…stronger feelings.”

  Ariane could not help the groan that leaked from her throat. I could die of embarrassment right now. And I wouldn’t regret it.

  Princess Elle laughed and patted Ariane on the back. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Ariane. I actually find it reassuring that Lucien managed to win over a woman as clever and competent as you.”

  “Your Highness…” Ariane trailed off, not knowing what she could say in this—one of the most awkward moments of her young life.

  Princess Elle’s smile mellowed. “I won’t mislead you and say I know he has feelings for you. He’s had too much practice masking himself at the courts for me to know more than that you are quite special to him. But…it’s all right to love him.”

  “It may be permissible,” Ariane said sourly, “but it certainly isn’t wise. There is no possible positive outcome.”

  “Even if he were to have feelings for you?”

  “Even then,” Ariane said. “He is the crown prince. He can’t marry a maid.”

  “Severin married a Ranger,” Elle said.

  Ariane shook her head.

  “You think it’s not the same because Severin is illegitimate?” Elle guessed.

  “No. I think it’s not the same because Severin has always proven himself competent and respectable, so no one would dare criticize his choice,” Ariane said. “Lucien is not in the same position. But it doesn’t matter—and it will do me no good to dwell upon it.”

  “Because you don’t believe Lucien would come to love you?” Elle asked.

  Ariane nodded.

  “It’s true; he might not,” Elle said ruthlessly. “But I think you underestimate the pull you have over him.”

  Ariane had to bite her cheek to keep from snorting.

  Princess Elle placed her hand on top of Ariane’s. “Love is beautiful and frightening, Ariane. It’s not a tame thing, and it often catches you unaware. But you cannot fear love or consider yourself a lesser person because of it. You are not a fool—you are brave. Loving another person takes great strength, and it’s never easy. Something will always stand in the way. But that is because it is worth it.”

  At the princess’s words, Ariane felt herself relaxing minutely. She’s right. I cannot regret loving Lucien. While the end to this might be painful for me, I still won’t regret the time I spent with him, and I’ll always be proud to know that he shared a hidden bit of himself with me.

  She swallowed thickly. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  Princess Elle squeezed her hand and stood. “Of course. We will have to stick together, you and me. But unfortunately, I must get back to my guests. Take all the time you need. And sit—no need to curtsy.”

  Ariane smiled. “You are a rare gem, Your Highness.”

  Princess Elle frowned at her.

  “Elle,” Ariane amended.

  Elle grinned. “Of course—I’m a commoner too, after all.” She started to walk away but paused. “Ariane?”

  “Yes, Your Highness?”

  “I wouldn’t lose all hope if I were you,” Elle said.

  Ariane blinked. “Why not?”

  “Not only is Lucien smart, but he does whatever suits him—a combination that will make him rather daring if he thinks he has someone who sees the real him.”

  Before Ariane could say anything in reply, Elle glided away.

  Though the princess’s words promised hope, Ariane was still too level-headed—and perhaps too frightened—to harbor them in her heart. Not every woman gets a prince and happily ever after…

  “I believe it would be wisest to create a council of military advisors that will stay connected through messengers and magical means,” Severin said on the fourteenth day of the summit. “I will be the military leader and contact for Loire, and Colonel Friedrich will serve as the military contact for Erlauf and will report to his father, Commander Lehn. I ask that once your contact is picked, you send them to Loire to be introduced to others and to receive training for advanced use of a magic mirror.”

  “Each party of representatives will be given a magic mirror to take to their home country,” Elle said. “The mirror will give us a way to remain in contact as we make adjustments to our strategies.”

  Lucien yawned. “It cost us a fortune to have those mirrors
made. We should take donations for them.”

  “Shh,” Ariane said.

  Lucien glanced up at her, but the young maid stared out at the assembly, her posture perked as she listened to the grim conversation. She is almost as curious as Elle—though she’s a great deal smarter about it, as she has a healthy survival instinct.

  Princess Astra shook her head. “I still don’t feel we are taking enough action. We should band together to declare war!”

  “War against whom?” Crown Prince Steffen of Arcainia asked. “As poorly as things appear, there is no unifying factor in the trials we face. There hasn’t been a pattern any of us have been able to discern.”

  “You cannot think to deny the calamity we each have been facing these past few years,” Princess Astra said.

  “I’m not. It merely makes no sense to declare war against an enemy we cannot define,” Crown Prince Steffen said.

  Lucien grabbed a candied date from the little saucer Ariane had swiped for him at lunch to keep himself from nodding. Since he had heard the first reports from the representatives, it had bothered him a great deal that despite all the calamity, there was no one thing they could point to as the cause for all of it. He had tried reviewing the reports in the evening, but his stunted mind hadn’t picked up on anything new.

  “What he means,” Gerhart—Steffen’s youngest brother—was quick to jump in, “is that since there is no common thread, no proof of uniting forces, we have nothing to declare war against. It’s obvious from the widespread unrest that something is happening, and the attack on royals means it is likely someone is pulling the reins. But we cannot declare war against an enemy we don’t know.”

  “I agree,” Severin said. “We have no idea who our enemy is, nor what land is harboring them.”

  Politely stated, Brother. It was a nice way of saying that any of the countries attending the Summit might be the hideaway of whatever nastiness was causing the outbreak of chaos.

  “Could something have happened to Zancara?” Rider Nareena of Farset suggested.

  “Possibly, but not likely,” Lady Enchantress Angelique said. “I stole my way into Zancara not long ago. It is much unchanged.”