by Nadia Lee
When she remained quiet, he said, “Hopping along in plain view, I tell you. It’s not my fault you didn’t notice.”
“What do you want? I thought you were going to wait for Princess Serenia’s walk tomorrow.”
“I was curious about you. You said you would help me, and it struck me that I should make sure of the kind of person you are.”
“It’s too late to worry about that, isn’t it? You already gave me the money.”
“Ah, but now that I know where you live, I can take it back if you break your promise.”
Fat luck with that. She’d hide her money where he could never find it. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” she said between clenched teeth. “I’m the one who’s worried you’ll try to rob me blind.”
He drew back. “I did give you my word.”
“You aren’t the only one to give his word…and then employ trickery to weasel out of the deal.”
“What?”
“Just today, before you showed up, there was a prince who came to court Princess Serenia. He offered to give me a pretty gold ring he had on his finger if I would help him woo the princess. I told him what I told you, and do you know what he did?”
“I confess I do not.”
“He tried to give me the ring in front of the princess, who promptly took it for herself since it was of course far too valuable for someone like me.” Anger spiked at the memory, making her hands shake. She clenched them. “The prince merely shrugged and said it was my fault I couldn’t keep it.” Fury coiled in her belly, hot and acidic. The prince had never intended to pay her as promised.
Ah well. It’s not as though you could wear something as precious as that ring. It’d look outlandish on your hand, and with that uncomely cotton dress. Prince John had said it with a shrug and cruel, laughing eyes. He’d calculated everything from the beginning, and had never had any desire to keep his word, that horrible man. Her station in life wasn’t something she’d chosen, anymore than he’d had to exert himself to be born a prince.
Robert croaked softly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
She shrugged, trying not to let him thaw her. She couldn’t afford to think of anything but her ultimate goal.
Words were cheap. So was sentiment. She didn’t want either from Robert. She simply wanted the payment he’d promised. That way she’d be free of Princess Serenia and the job she had to endure to make ends meet.
* * *
Robert regarded Molly. Bitterness and anger etched deep lines ’round her mouth and eyes. Whatever had happened wasn’t just annoying her. He could see a fury building inside.
The need to punish whomever was responsible for her unhappiness surged within him. He’d seen her kindness at the butcher shop and her loving patience with her mother. She didn’t deserve to feel bad. “You didn’t have any duck,” he said, trying to drag her mind away from bad memories.
“What?”
“The duck. I saw you buy it from the butcher. Why didn’t you tell your mother the truth?”
“Ha. One cannot help but tell my mother the truth. She sees it in any case. But I didn’t say I’d eaten duck, I said I’d had my fill.”
“So not a lie, precisely, a…dissembling.”
“Yes.”
“Still, you should have some. The money that bought it was yours.”
“If I show that I desire any at all, she won’t eat it until I have at least half. I want her to have all she likes, especially since smoked duck is her favorite, and I didn’t buy that much.”
“Surely a single one of the five hundred gold coins I gave you can buy all the duck you want.”
She sat on a knee-high rock. “It can, but I’ve never spent much at the butcher. If I start now, he may wonder. It’s unwise to draw attention to oneself.”
Robert tilted his head. “A stressful way to live.”
“No. Just necessary.”
“If you can’t spend the money or draw any attention to yourself, what are you going to do with all the gold coins? Keep them under your mattress?”
She laughed, the sound full and throaty. Not at all princess-like.
Yet it struck something deep inside him, conjured images of wild fairy dancers in lush lazy summer. A little shiver traveled along his skin. He forced himself to squat still.
“No. I’m not that crazy,” she said. “I plan to spend it…but how and when are my affair.”
Buying more slices of duck for her mother, probably. Robert still couldn’t quite understand why she didn’t want to have at least some of the meat. It had smelled amazing at the butcher shop, and he bet it tasted just as wonderful. He doubted he could be as disciplined as Molly about what he wanted. He’d never had to deny himself anything.
As the only son of a king, Robert had been spoiled to the core, even by those who didn’t care for him much. They’d been investing in their future, since it was inevitable that he would one day inherit the throne. Women too had indulged him when he was young and loved him when he was older.
He’d taken all of that and more for granted. He’d felt like he was the best and the greatest…until the Wicked Witch transformed him into a frog, after which nobody believed the claim that he was a royal prince and treated him like a common amphibian.
“By the way, about what your mother said… Can she really see me in my true form?”
“No,” Molly said quickly with a little too much force. “She’s blind. She’s been that way for over three years.”
“But she said—”
“A handsome young man. That’s not you, Prince Ribbit.”
He croaked at the undignified name. “Robert. Prince Robert.”
“Of course. Tell me, do you keep rabbits in your castle? Make them wear ribbons?” Molly’s fingers were fiddling with one another, and he could tell that she was trying to distract him from the topic of her mother with her horrible taunts.
“Are you quite done?”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to rubbit in.”
“I don’t believe you about your mother.”
“Leave my mother out of this. Our bargain was that I would help you, not her. If you try to involve her in your mad scheme to win a kiss from Princess Serenia, I’ll leave you at the princess’s mercy.”
It took all of his self-control to adopt a conciliatory tone. “As you wish.” We’ll see about that.
He would undo the curse no matter what it took.
IV. In Which Our Hero Gives the First Golden Ball to the Princess
Robert waited for Princess Serenia in the same spot he’d seen her the day before. If Molly had spoken the truth—and he knew she had—the princess would be coming along soon.
His offering rested on the grass in front of him. Made of gold and sparkle-glass, the sphere was the size of a man’s fist and gleamed like a well-polished jewel. Small diamond chips embedded into swirling patterns and butterfly motifs glittered in the sunlight like a thousand tiny stars. He’d commissioned this and two others like it from three of the most famous craftsmen in the land. Similar in theme but individually unique, the set was one of the finest items from his treasures. They were lovely enough to bedazzle any woman, even a princess with the most exacting and impeccable taste.
The late morning breeze brushed by, cool and lovely. The soil under his webbed feet was pleasantly moist and fragrant. Even the sun seemed unusually brilliant, though he was careful to stay in the shade of a pomegranate tree so that he didn’t dry out.
Soon he’d undo his curse, marry Serenia and return to Lustrea. The Wicked Witch would howl, watching him take his throne in triumph with such a stunning bride.
He chuckled. What a satisfying outcome. Seeing the Wicked Witch’s infuriated face would almost make up for the indignities he’d suffered from the curse.
Almost.
“Hold the parasol more upright,“ came a clear voice. “And don’t crowd me so. I don’t want you stepping on my skirts.”
Serenia. His chosen. His heart beat faster.
“Yes, Your Royal H
ighness.”
Robert’s jaw dropped at the meek tone. Molly? Could she actually sound like that?
He closed his mouth. He was there to catch a princess, not flies.
They appeared on the other side of the path. Serenia smiled at a trio of yellow butterflies fluttering by. She was so perfectly formed. Even her dimples were symmetrical—appearing identically on both corners of her beautifully curved mouth. A gorgeous pink silk gown sewn with jewels covered her lithe form. It would be difficult to find a wedding dress that would do her justice.
Slightly behind and to one side, Molly marched with a huge parasol. The tube, thick as her wrist, was braced against her shoulder and sweat beaded on her forehead.
Robert tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. The parasol seemed too big and heavy for one woman. Why didn’t Molly have someone to help her? Was her partner sick perhaps?
The chivalrous thing to do would be to lend a hand, but he currently didn’t have one. So frustrating. What if Molly hurt herself? Though he was sure Serenia would continue to pay her while Molly recovered, injuries could bring a lifetime of nagging pain, especially for someone who had to work for a living.
Well. She would have a thousand gold coins to ease her suffering.
A sudden gust tipped the parasol, unbalancing Molly. She almost tripped, and Serenia cried, “Steady, you clumsy chit.”
Robert blinked. Had Serenia just called her maid a “clumsy chit?” Shouldn’t she be worried about Molly’s wellbeing? After all, maids were part of a princess’s responsibilities. That was what being a royal meant.
Then Molly made a face at the princess behind her back. Hmm. Perhaps Molly wasn’t so meek and biddable after all. That must be why the princess had been harsh with her.
Yes. That had to be it. Why else would Serenia treat Molly so?
But shouldn’t a princess be above such pettiness? Shouldn’t she be nobler?
He ignored the voice. There was no need to nitpick or obsess about Serenia and Molly’s relationship. He had much bigger things to attend to, such as undoing his curse. Once that was accomplished, he was certain Molly would quit her job and retire.
He rolled the golden ball, making sure it would stop in the princess’s path, and crouched in the middle of the grassy lawn, blending into the green. No need for her to see him first and run screaming again.
Serenia came closer to the golden ball with each step.
Come on, Princess.
She looked up at the sun. “It’s awfully bright, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness,” Molly answered.
“Hot, too.”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness.”
“Did you bring my favorite fan?”
“My apologies, Your Royal Highness. I didn’t know you would want it.” Molly dropped her gaze briefly.
Robert could tell she was lying. She had known exactly what Serenia wanted, but hadn’t brought it.
What a terrible maid she was. Was this why Serenia didn’t allow Molly to take food from the royal kitchen? He certainly wouldn’t if his servants were this bad.
“Next time, bring it,” Serenia snapped. “It’s getting too hot, but I must have my walk and you need to keep me cool.”
Molly’s face twisted into a grimace. Robert was sure she was attempting—unsuccessfully—to smile. “Yes, Your Royal Highness.”
Serenia resumed her slow-paced stroll. She was so busy grumbling and stealing glances back at Molly that she didn’t even notice the golden ball in her path.
Argh! It was all Molly’s fault Serenia was too irritated to see his offering. And to think he’d paid five hundred gold coins. He might as well have given them to the Wicked Witch.
“Your Royal Highness, there is something on the path,” Molly said.
“What?” Serenia began a screech, then stopped and bent for a closer look. “What is it?”
“It appears to be a golden ball.”
“Oooh. Do fetch it.”
Molly did as she was told, all the while keeping the enormous parasol over the princess. The poor maid strained so hard, Robert felt guilty for getting mad at her just a moment ago. Why didn’t Serenia pick up the ball herself? It wasn’t that heavy.
Perhaps Serenia simply didn’t know that yet.
When Molly handed her the ball, Serenia said, “This is the most beautiful ball I’ve ever seen. Where could it have come from?”
Part of being a prince of the realm is knowing when to Take Action, and Robert seized the moment. “It is a gift for you, most beautiful princess,” he said, staying hidden in the grass.
“Who’s there?” Serenia turned to Molly. “Did you hear that?”
“I did, Your Royal Highness.”
“So I can keep this?” Serenia asked Molly.
Before Robert could object to being ignored, Molly said, “Well, the voice did say it was a gift.”
“That’s what I thought. So it’s mine now.” Serenia started to hand it over to Molly, then stopped. “Never mind, you clumsy girl. I’ll carry it myself.”
“Are you pleased with my gift, Princess Serenia?” Robert said quickly, before Serenia resumed her walk.
“Yes, Oh Invisible Man.”
“Then will you spend some time with me?”
“Doing what?” she asked, her face blank.
“I merely wish to talk with you.”
“Oh.” Serenia frowned. Even that was lovely. It was good that the Wicked Witch wasn’t around. If she had been, she might have cursed Serenia just for her beauty. “I don’t know.”
“But I have given you the golden ball—a one-of-a-kind objet d’art, I might add. Do I not deserve something in return?”
“Oh very well.” She pouted. “But I have nothing to talk about.”
Robert doubted that. She was probably just being modest. All the princesses he’d known were at least passable conversationalists.
Serenia sat on a marble bench. Molly stood behind her with the parasol over both of them.
Robert remained hidden and attempted to engage the princess with the latest developments in Fairy Tale politics—such as the troll strike—and art. She seemed uninterested in politics—“That’s for the kings to decide”—or art—“Unless I can wear it, I don’t care.” He tried the latest happenings with other royal families—poor Sleeping Beauty’s never-ending slumber—and the latest trend in vocal music. She was unsympathetic to the former and uninterested in the latter. Finally, he spoke about the latest treatise on proper etiquette (“Oh, who cares? Rules are for the little people.”) and the prediction for the year’s harvest: scanty, hence the common folk might need some help in the form of tithe relief and/or special public assistance. (“That’s the minister’s concern, not mine.”)
Hmm. Perhaps Serenia was simply shy. But hopefully she realized that he was someone of intellect, worthy of her notice and esteem. Though his true form would’ve been the easiest way to gain her attention, he had to make do. And he was quite justifiably proud of his wide range of knowledge and interests. None had ever accused him of being a dullard.
Suddenly, Serenia rose. “I’m hungry. Molly, what’s for lunch?”
“Your favorite, Your Royal Highness.”
“Which favorite would that be?”
“Roasted pork with fig sauce, freshly baked bread and chocolate cream pie.”
“Sounds delicious. Let’s go.”
Robert’s mouth hung open and an involuntary croak seeped out. How could she just go? And without saying farewell to him, who had given her the most beautiful ornamental ball she’d ever seen?
“Oh Prinnnnncess!” called a familiar male voice. Robert’s blood ran even colder than usual when he heard it. “Where arrrrre you?”
Serenia turned with a smile brilliant enough to rival the sun. “Prince John! I thought you were resting.”
“I was, but I couldn’t resist the allure of spending time with you in your favorite garden.”
Impotent fury blazed white-hot at the sigh
t of his cousin. John hadn’t changed much in the years Robert had been absent from Lustrea. His hair was as burnished copper to Serenia’s gold, his eyes a dark hazel that many women found attractive.
Robert studied John, but couldn’t find a single physical flaw. John dressed well, looked well, and Serenia was—unless Robert was mistaken—happy to see him.
Most galling of all, John hadn’t been cursed into a frog’s shape.
“Oh my, dropped something.” John crouched down and made a show of hunting around in the grass. “Robert, I know you’re somewhere around,” he muttered.
“What are you doing here?” Robert demanded in a fierce whisper.
“Wooing Princess Serenia, naturally. I’m in need of a suitable wife.”
“She’s mine. I chose her first.”
“Did you, now? And did she say yes to you first?”
Robert fumed.
“Of course not. I heard she can’t stand frogs.” John sneered as only a royal could. “You’re never going to undo your curse.”
“No curse is forever in our world. You would do well to remember that, cousin.”
“Such faith is touching.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“The Wicked Witch told me. You should never have crossed her, cousin. Or should I say ‘half-brother?’ She does not forget or forgive easily.” John straightened, pulling a pink bit of silk out of a pocket as he did so, and returned to Serenia.
Robert glared at his cousin’s retreating back.
John was the king’s bastard son, who had been adopted by the king’s childless younger brother. As John was two years older, he thought his claim to the throne more legitimate than Robert’s, regardless of the circumstances of their births. Robert was almost certain John had had something to do with his curse. His cousin was too manipulative and devious not to utilize everything he could to ensure Robert could never return to Lustrea and claim what was rightfully his.
“Shall we?” John extended his arm to Serenia.
She rested her slim hand lightly in the crook of his elbow. “Yes.”
“This ribbon is for you. A small token of my affection. I thought it’d go well with your dress.”
