The Green-Eyed Prince: A Retelling of The Frog Prince (The Classical Kingdoms Collection Novellas Book 1)
Page 1
Eyes of Green: A Retelling of The Frog Prince
A Classical Kingdoms Collection Novella #1
Brittany Fichter
BrittanyFichterFiction.com
Contents
Copyright
Want more from your fairy tales?
Dedication
1. All of them
2. Bloodlines
3. Ten Minutes
4. Promises at the Pond
5. Promises Beckon
6. Reluctant Bride
7. Whatever Methods
8. Not So Secret
9. Questionable Duty
10. Other Methods
11. A Taste
12. To Try
13. The Best Revenge
14. A Different Man
15. What If
16. One Hour at a Time
Epilogue
Also by Brittany Fichter
About the Author
EYES OF GREEN: A RETELLING OF THE FROG PRINCE
Copyright © 2017 Brittany Fichter
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, at BrittanyFichterFiction.com.
Eyes of Green / Brittany Fichter. -- 1st ed.
Edited by Meredith Tennant
Cover Art and Design by Sanja Gombar at BookCoverForYou.com
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To Michelle
Moving is always a lonely task, and out of all of our Air Force moves, this one was the hardest. Finding you, a fellow fairy tale fanatic sister-in-Christ was such a gift from God. From letting me drag you to Beauty and the Beast to sharing my love for 50’s style dresses to reading my books blindly, you’ve been such an inspiration and such a cheerleader, and I’m so grateful to have you as my friend. I love how you see the world outside of the box. Please don’t ever change.
1
All of them
“There.” Kartek gave the little girl’s arm a quick squeeze and smiled. “You’re ready to play Clump Ball again. Just be careful of the big boys this time. Sometimes they forget to look for brave little girls like you.”
The girl gave Kartek a big toothy grin as her mother bowed. “I thank you, my jahira!” She patted her big belly. “I do not know what I would do without her.” She smiled down at her daughter. “Sashi is my greatest help around the house now as we get ready for the baby.”
Kartek nodded once. “May the Maker gift you a healthy, strong child and a safe delivery.” She looked over at the line as the woman took her daughter and left. Before she called for the next in line, however, something to her left caught her eye. Careful not to appear alarmed, she waved over her bodyguard and nodded in the direction of the column of thick yellow smoke that was rising in the air.
“Ebo, what do you think that is?” she asked in a low voice.
Her bodyguard frowned. “No one knows. Fadil believes it is simply a brush fire, no closer than the river at most.”
She frowned. True, a thunderstorm had moved through the valley the night before. Still, something bothered her, an uneasiness she couldn’t quite put a name to. “The smoke is an odd color to be caused by a brush fire.”
“Do you wish to cut this morning’s healings short?” Oni, Kartek’s favorite handmaiden, asked.
Kartek studied the smoke for another moment longer. Because of the high city walls, seeing its base location was impossible. Still, if there had been any real threat, Commander Fadil and Ebo would have swept her out of the public plaza long before. They had done it before during far less threatening situations. So she shook her head. “No, thank you. The line is short today. I will finish here as usual.” She looked up at the line of people standing before her and put on her most reassuring smile. “Who is next?”
Truly, the line wasn’t as long as it normally was. Sometimes, it wrapped so far around the pool and into the village that she had to move everyone back into the palace. She preferred to avoid healing inside, as having great numbers of citizens crowding about the throne room created more work for the palace staff. But the sun made it too hot to heal outside much after dawn, at least in the dry season. As there were only a dozen citizens still waiting their turn with her, however, she should be able to get through them all before the sun rose too high. So she dipped her hand in the water of the pool where she sat and rubbed it on her face.
A man approached her and bowed from the waist. “I thank you, Jahira, for seeing me.”
“And what do you need healing for this morning?” she asked. He held out his hand, and Kartek leaned in closer to see the deep gash that ran across his palm. “How did you get this?”
“I was working in my garden when I tripped and fell on one of my tools.”
Kartek nodded and reached for his hand. “Oni, a clean rag, please.”
Her handmaiden handed her a rag, and Kartek dipped it into the jar of water beside her that Oni had brought for this very purpose. She held it over his palm and squeezed the water out so that it ran over the cut. Red water splashed onto the ground and the man clenched his jaw.
“I’m sorry for the pain,” Kartek said as she laid the rag down and folded his hand gently into a fist. “But if I don’t clean it, the healing won’t be as thorough.” Then, closing her eyes, she exhaled, letting the warmth run from her heart through her shoulders, down her arms, and into her fingers that held his. She heard him gasp, and she couldn’t help smiling a bit. Though her eyes were closed, she could envision the familiar pink mist covering their hands.
It never ceased to amaze her, either.
“My jahira,” Oni leaned in as the man thanked her profusely and the woman behind him came to the front of the line. “Seamstress needs to see you when you are finished.”
Kartek’s heart paused briefly before returning to its usual rhythm. “The wedding dress?”
Oni nodded, her brown eyes a little too bright with excitement.
Kartek sighed. “Very well. As soon as we are finished here.” Suddenly, she was wishing the line of those waiting to be healed was far longer. No, that wouldn’t do. She should be grateful that the Maker had kept her city safe from a great calamity or sickness through the night. Still, her gown fitting appointments hadn’t held much allure for her since her parents had been—
No, she wasn’t going to think about that, either.
The sun was peeking out from the barren craggy mountains in the distance as Kartek waved goodbye to her final subject and turned to go with Oni. Ebo hovered behind, too, of course, but that was nothing new. Kartek couldn’t remember a time when Ebo hadn’t hovered.
“You’re nervous, aren’t you?”
Kartek wanted to grimace at her friend’s forward questions as they crossed the square toward the palace. But as she glanced up at Oni, however, a movement caught her eye. Kartek stopped walking and squinted.
“Did you see that?” Kartek asked, taking a few steps toward where the movement had been.
“No. Where?”
“There. At that back gate in the wall. The one the servants use to get to the fields.”
Oni huffed and looked for a moment before shaking her head. “I see nothing. And do not try to change the subject. Every time we go to finalize more wedding details, you become less and less enthusiastic.” She leaned in. “Are you nervous?”
Kartek stared at the now empty space where she had been sure she’d seen a face a moment before. The skin on her neck prickled. She considered going to Ebo, only to realize that her bodyguard was already on his way back from investigating. When he said nothing, though, she shook her head to herself and tried to pay attention to Oni once again.
“Well, are you?” Oni pressed.
Kartek pursed her lips as she considered how to answer. The jahira was never supposed to be nervous, or at least she was never supposed to show that she was anything less than perfectly at ease, a subject Ahmos had spent hours lecturing her about. But Oni knew her too well to be fooled, and they both knew it.
“I suppose it’s beginning to seem more real,” Kartek said, pitching her voice low.
“I should hope so!” Oni laughed. “You are to be married in a month! If you’re not ready for it now, I don’t know if you will ever be!” She grinned shamelessly. “I would be nervous. Your betrothed is so large and fearsome. Kissing him would be more like kissing a mountain than a man!”
“Oni!” Kartek hissed, trying to smother a giggle. “That is not an appropriate way to speak of the Rayis!” She glanced around as the palace doors swung open for them. “Or my future husband.”
“It doesn’t change anything.” Oni smirked.
As if Kartek needed reminding. She hadn’t seen her betrothed often, not more than twice a year since they’d been betrothed, but every time she saw Gahiji, he seemed to have grown in both muscles and height. Kartek tried to think of something else, but it was too late. She could already feel the red blush rise to her cheeks, which only made Oni laugh more.
The palace was already decidedly cooler than her spot at the pool had been, the six white open archways greeting her as she stepped inside. Servants scurried around. Music came from somewhere at the south end of the palace, and laughter was heard frequently as they moved up a set of spiraling sandstone steps, down one stone-laden hall, then another. As they walked and Oni continued to try and pull details out of Kartek, Kartek closed her eyes and drank in the tranquility of her home.
Compared to the castles of the north, particularly Destin’s renowned Fortress, her sprawling palace was rather unprotected. Its wide entrance with its six arches and eight pillars opened up directly to the main city plaza, where their prized oasis pool sat, the heart of the city. Sandstone houses and shops surrounded the large plaza, which was nearly always filled with families shopping, vendors with carts, and curious travelers come to see the Jewel of the Desert, as the natural pool was often called. There were no moats, trenches, or even a gate to separate Kartek from her people. But really, with the wall that ran around the city, which stood three stories high and backed the palace courtyards directly, there had never been much reason to build the palace defenses any further. And Kartek was glad. Few of the windows even had glass, for this allowed the dry air to waft through the palace to keep it cool. Many of the inner palace walls were only fancy trellises for exactly the same purpose. King Rodrigue of Destin liked to grumble about how this left the palace vulnerable for attack, but Kartek felt the openness allowed the palace to feel far more welcoming to her people than any of the northern castles did. It also allowed her palace to feel like home.
Finally, they reached the seamstress’s quarters. Kartek took a deep breath of the oils used to rub the clothing as they entered. She had loved this room as a child, with its neat stacks of fabrics that reached the ceiling, stacked wooden crates of dyes, and baskets of fastidiously organized needles, pins, and threads.
“Good morning, Jahira.” Ipy bowed but fixed her sharp eyes on Oni as they walked in. “Oni, I thought I told you to have her here an hour ago.”
“That is my fault,” Kartek said. “I was healing at the pool this morning. I apologize for the delay. Now, let’s begin.”
Ipy appeared momentarily mollified, though her satisfaction rarely lasted very long with anyone, least of all Oni. She began directing her assistants to remove Kartek’s clothes and put the wedding dress on for its final adjustments.
Kartek really couldn’t see why they needed so many adjustments. The green gown seemed nearly as simple as her other dresses, thin so she wouldn’t sweat to death in it during the ceremony or after during the feast. Its only real changes from her everyday clothes were the jewels that lined its edges. Pleats ran along the skirt’s length, which reached just down to her ankles. Still, the swishing of cool cloth felt good on her skin as they folded and tucked and pinned, and Kartek closed her eyes and tried to picture the day she would actually wear this.
Preparations would begin early in the morning even though the ceremony wouldn’t take place until after the sun set. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to have the soft green silk brush her legs as she walked toward Gahiji.
She didn’t want to admit it, of course, but Oni had been right when she accused Kartek of being nervous. Not that Kartek didn’t trust Gahiji, of course. Her parents had chosen him after looking at dozens of possible suitors. His match was the most obvious for political and military reasons. And though he came from a wild, nomadic people, there was nothing about him to suggest that he might not make a fine husband. Together, Kartek and Gahiji would unite Hedjet and the tribes to create a stronger people in the desert.
But at this very moment, politics were the last thing on Kartek’s mind. All she could see in her head was him leaning down to kiss her, a giant of a man who dwarfed even her. And she was considered tall for a woman.
She shuddered.
“Are you well, Jahira?” Ipy paused in her work and looked up at Kartek.
Kartek opened her mouth to assure the woman that she was fine, but a knock sounded at the door. One of the seamstress’s girls went to get it. After speaking for a moment with whomever was outside, she returned.
Ipy pulled a pin from her mouth and frowned at the girl. “What is the matter?”
“They say we need to look outside.”
If the warble in her voice wasn’t enough to put Kartek on edge, the way the girl’s face had turned ashen was. Everyone ran to the windows and peered out. When she found her own place at the window, Kartek froze.
To the east, over dunes of glittering sand poured people. Hundreds of people. Like ants they marched forward, turning the dunes from gold to brown, gray, black, and whatever other colors they wore.
“Are they warriors?” one of the girls whispered.
“No,” Oni shook her head. “There are women and children among them.”
Kartek squinted against the bright reflection of the sand. No colors were carried to denote the tribe’s identity. She tried to recall which of the ten tribes had so many people, but none came to mind.
“My jahira.”
She turned at the sound of a man’s voice. “Ahmos. Which tribe is it?”
Ahmos crossed his arms, the very picture of confidence, but she didn’t miss the way he ground his jaw. “Not which tribe, Jahira.” He paused and glanced at the women in the room. “It’s all of them.”
2
Bloodlines
“All of them?” She stared blankly at him. “All ten?”
“Perhaps we might speak of this in private?”
She nodded. “Let me change. Quickly, Ipy.”
Ahmos went back outside again as the women removed the wedding garments and Kartek donned her day clothes once again. She tried to ignore the shaking in her knees as she joined her head alder in the hall.
“Have all ten tribes ever come together before this?” Kartek racked her memory. “For something other than the wedding of a Rayis . . . or a funeral?”
Ahmos only raised his eyebrows.
Kartek closed her eyes and drew in a long, shuddering breath through her nose. How many times she had prayed nothing like this would ever happen, at least until she had been jahira for much, much longer. Healing she was comfortable with, mending accidents from scythes and falls, broken limbs and minor diseases. Meeting with stewards and local rulers to discuss kingdom finances and laws for the streets was manageable as well. Not easy, but still manageable. But this? Before she died, her parents had never given her a lesson on what to do when ten of the world’s most fearsome tribes appeared outside one’s city gates.
Kartek swallowed, her voice threatening to squeak. “War. Of course. What do you suggest we do?”
“As the presence of the families makes it unlikely that they’re openly declaring war here and now, and very few of the warriors have been spotted, I suggest we attempt a civil discussion first.”
“Shall I go out to them?”
He looked at her as though she were mad. “By yourself? Of course not!”
“Then you come with me.”
He rubbed his shiny head. “The tribes respect strength. Any sign of weakness will do nothing but make them doubt your ability. They could easily interpret my presence as that of a chaperone rather than an adviser.”
Kartek closed her eyes and groaned. “I am seventeen years, Ahmos. Hardly enough to command their respect on my own, no matter what I do.”