The Frog Prince (2 page)

There was something so very calming about doing just that—throwing the ball up and then catching it. She leaned back and tossed it again and again and again. As she tossed, she thought, allowing the rhythm of the soaring ball to soothe her whirling mind.

Why did she have to get married to a prince she did not even know, let alone like? Well, to be honest, she had never met him before, so therefore could not judge him too harshly, but goodness! With such a face as his portraits showed him to have, how could he not be the most inane buffoon who ever lived?

True, he was handsome—remarkably so. She sighed. That was probably the worst thing about Prince Nolan—his features. Why, if he were plain, or had more common looks, perhaps she would not be so critical of him. But how could she ever take a man with such striking looks seriously? He must be a complete braggart.

She stopped tossing the ball and pulled his latest missive from her pocket. After staring at it a moment, she crumbled the thing up. She had never read such idiocy in her life! The topics of his conversation were clearly meant to be delivered to a completely dim-witted female, someone who would properly “ooh” and “ah” over such manly exploits like his latest hunting kills and marksmanship with the longbow.

She rolled her eyes. As if she cared one whit about the number of times he had bested this ogre or that ogre. Where was the wooing? Where were the sheets of music he had written for her, songs she could pick out on her pianoforte and think of him? Where were the bouquets delivered to her door? Where were the poems and attributes to her person?

Bah!

She crumpled the letter around a small rock and tossed it into the pond. With satisfaction, she watched it slowly sink beneath her view.

“A man as self-centered as that can stay beneath the waters of the pond where he belongs. I will not marry such a man. I
cannot
marry such a man—it is beneath my principles. I have waited my whole life for this man to truly see me and love me, and yet, it will never happen.” She sighed and muttered to herself, “Nay, he will only ever think of himself. I must have more than that. I must.”

She glanced toward the castle, where the happy shouts of her two elder brothers met her ears as they returned from their ride. Looking up at the fourth-story windows, she knew her two younger sisters were dutifully working away with their governess, doing their schooling and excitedly chattering about whatever it is ten- and eleven-year-old girls chatter about.

Blythe sighed again. How she abhorred her age!

With her brothers nineteen and twenty, it made her mere seventeen quite unbearable.

How she longed for a friend, or a sibling her own age. How she longed not to always be forgotten and alone.

She looked at the spot where she had thrown Prince Nolan’s letter and pressed her lips together. It would seem that another person destined to be in her life would not see her. He did not even care to know her. Not once did he ask her questions—only arrogantly going off about his own accomplishments. Did he not wish to know who she was at all?

Tucking her arm beneath her head, she blinked up at the clouds and sighed once more. Good heavens, she was in a melancholy mood. If she were not careful, she might find herself in tears and that would never do. She blinked again.

But what if, what if she truly was that—oh, goodness! There were some days when she had to wonder if she was even worth getting to know. Mayhap her thoughts and ideals and dreams and all those things she longed for and loved—all of it—perhaps they were too simple for handsome princes to care about. Maybe if she did open up and share her wishes and secrets, he would lose all interest in her. Clearly there was a reason why she was the forgotten one of the family.

Perhaps it had nothing to do with age at all and was simply because she was that worthless.

Urgh.

Blythe sat up quickly and dashed at her tears. Enough. This was silliness to the extreme, and such thoughts were unacceptable on beautiful, sunshiny days. Wallowing in self-pity was only warranted on rainy, dismal days—today was too perfect.

She tossed her crystal up in the air. There. Just seeing it go up already calmed her. Grinning, she watched as it soared higher, its facets glinting with multi-colored rainbows as it winked in the sunlight before traveling back down to her waiting hands. This time, however, it would seem she had thrown it much harder than usual, for it bounced right out of her palm and splashed some six feet away from her into the pond.

“Oh, no!” She scrambled to her knees and peered over the edge of the boulder into the water. She could not even make a thing out! It was just her luck—the ball
would
have fallen right into the deepest part of the pond. Even if she did risk her mother’s wrath by going into the water and ruining her gown, she would never be able to see the bottom anyway, and therefore never be able to fetch the ball through the soft silt and rocks. The crystal would be gone forever! No, no, no.

Urgh. Her frustration doubled, and she felt like weeping out of her stupidity alone. It would seem she was not worth much beyond the typical dim-witted female who would love a smug prince. That letter was clearly addressed to her, for who else would be so mindless as to toss their favorite ball into the pond?

Closing her eyes, she brushed angrily at the tears that were much too close to the surface today.

“Would you like some help?” asked a male voice Blythe had never heard before.

Her eyes snapped open. She looked around the empty pond and out toward the shrubs and trees surrounding it. “Hello?” she asked. Was she hearing things? That voice sounded so real.

“I am down here,” he answered.

She glanced down and shrieked. There, just a few inches from her hand, sat a very large and slimy frog.

CHAPTER THREE

NOLAN JUMPED BACK AT the sound of her shriek. The girl had incredible vocals for one as dainty as she seemed to be. In fact, Princess Blythe looked so much smaller than he imagined, he first thought she was one of her younger sisters—though when he saw her crumple and toss his letter into the pond and mumble that nonsense about him not seeing her, there was no mistaking that she was his intended.

So disgusted was he with her treatment of a note he had written and the wasted journey of his footman in delivering it to her, he had nearly hopped away and gone home right then. She was the pampered princess he believed her to be.

However, the memory of the night before, stuck out here in the cold, and the thought of making his way several miles back to his castle as a frog, did not appeal. The herb woman had been sure to poof him to this exact pond, telling him that first thing in the morning, Blythe would make her way down to her favorite spot and he could meet her then.

When Nolan initially had this scheme of turning into a frog, he had forgotten the small detail that he would
become a frog
, not just look like one, and therefore find himself a snack for most of the animals out there. In reality, this was probably not the wisest course of action he had ever taken.

Nevertheless, he was where he was, and therefore he would make the best of it. Since the spell would not be complete for another thirty days or until Blythe took pity on him and kissed him, he was more than likely safer here in this pond than becoming someone’s supper. He would be even more safe with her—no matter how petulant she turned out to be.

“Calm down,” he said to the screaming girl as she scurried off the boulder. “I have come to offer my assistance.” Apparently she was even more terrified of frogs than most females. “Did you not lose a fine crystal ball just a few moments ago?”

Blythe stopped screeching long enough to stare at him. “What did you say?”

“Did your ball fall into the pond?”

“You are speaking in coherent sentences.”

“I would hope so!” He puffed out his chest, forgetting for a moment the state he was in. “Royalty is usually taught how to speak properly as a child.”

“Royalty?”

Drat. Why did he have such a dimwitted noggin? Now how would he explain this? The charm did not forbid him from saying who he was, but he had hoped to keep his identity a secret. He cleared his throat, deciding it was best not to lie too much. “Yes, I am a prince.”

“You?” Blythe laughed annoyingly. “There are princes in the frog kingdom?”

He sighed. “There is only one prince that I am aware of—and he is me.”

Schooling her features, she asked, “You honestly believe you are a prince?”

“I do not just believe it—I am.”

She took a step forward. “Is that why you can talk?”

“It is one of the reasons, yes.” He decided to explain at least the basics. If he did not provide
some
answers, who knew what her imagination would come up with. “I have been enchanted into this state.”

“You are under a spell? Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you here in my kingdom? How did you get here?” She seemed skeptical. “Should you not be under a spell in your own kingdom?”

“No. I have my reasons for being in this exact spot.” However, if he did not distract her soon, he would be revealing much more than he should. He hopped forward a few paces and was pleased to see that she did not move away from the rock. “Nonetheless, I would like to grant your favor now, if you wish. May I collect your ball for you?”

She stepped back as if suddenly remembering the ball. “Yes, please!” She smiled.

Nolan blinked. The girl had a remarkably pretty smile; in fact, he was quite fascinated by it. He could not help but stare and wonder what her mouth would feel like against his. After some seconds of silence, he realized how awkwardly he was behaving and cleared his throat. “I will get the ball—in exchange for something, of course.”

Her smile dropped. “Er, what would you like?”

A kiss!
“Uh…” He could not simply rush and ask for a kiss this early. Great heavens, he was such a fool. However, he certainly wished for a much better place to sleep tonight than the pond. He searched her features. Would she be kind enough to take him in?
Of course! It is the perfect test!
“I would like to become your guest at the castle.”

She did not appear pleased. “I beg your pardon?”

“I will fetch your crystal in exchange for being treated like a guest in your home.”

“What exactly would you expect of me?”

Nolan shrugged his froggy shoulders. “Why, nothing more than common courtesy. I am an enchanted prince, and I find the flavor of insects appalling and this pond too cold and damp for my tastes. I would love to be given proper meals and a warm bed to sleep upon in exchange for fetching that precious ball of yours.”

“In short, you wish me to treat a frog as well as I would any of my most particular friends?”

“Precisely!” Now they were getting somewhere. “Yes. Treat me as your dearest friend, and I promise you will be rewarded handsomely.”

“Are you mad?”

He grinned. Apparently every female he met would think the same. “Quite possibly. Now, have we come to an agreement?”

Blythe looked at the pond and then back at him, her face scrunched in up in disgust. But just when he thought she would say no, she surprised him by replying, “Yes. I promise to do as you ask and treat you as my greatest friend if you would please return my ball to me.”

“Done.” He bowed his head and then dove off the boulder into the cool, crisp pool.

His eyes adjusted easily to the murky waters as he swam deeper through the fronds and mossy rocks below. It took a couple of minutes to locate the ball. Its crystal winked at him as the sun suddenly peeked around a cloud and streamed into the pond. It was also a bit of a struggle to collect the thing, removing debris from around it with his webbed feet and then capturing the ball into his wide mouth. Once he had it, he was able to swim easily to the surface and deposit it upon the shore.

“You did it!” Blythe exclaimed as she ran around the boulder and picked up the ball. “I was afraid I would never see it again!”

“Yes. It was a bit of a chore to find it, but—” Nolan halted when he looked up and saw the girl running away, the crystal in her hand. No good-bye, no thought to keep her promise to him. Not even a “thank you” was tossed his way. “It was just as I believed,” he muttered. “She is a pampered, spoiled, extremely vexatious monster!”

CHAPTER FOUR

BLYTHE MADE IT ALMOST to the castle doors before she remembered her promise to the frog. She had heard the maid’s clanging of the triangle while he was underwater and knew her mother would be worried if she did not make it in time for tea. When the frog popped up just then, it was all she could think of—to get home as quickly as possible. So she hastily snatched the ball up and ran to the castle.

It would not have been such a great issue had she been in the rose garden near the south side, like she had told her mother she would be, instead of sneaking off to the pond nearly a quarter of a mile away. If the queen knew how many times a day Blythe headed over to the pond to daydream instead of doing something practical—like creating bouquets or sewing on her embroidery or painting watercolors—she would be livid. Her mother simply hated the thought of her ruining her gowns by the muddy water.

As if she had ever damaged a gown—she was always careful. At least she tried to be. Blythe looked down and brushed at a few dirty spots upon her skirts before opening the door. She felt a momentary stab of guilt at leaving the frog so suddenly, but honestly, there was nothing she could do about it now. He would have to wait until she could make it back down there after tea.

She scurried to the east drawing room and nearly collided with her mother. Queen Mary Elizabeth II scanned her daughter’s countenance and crossed her arms over her bright pink gown. “Where have you been?” she asked. “I sent a maid out to search for you, and she returned saying you were not in the rose garden like you said you would be. Now you have shown up completely flushed as though you have been running.”

Blythe debated lying, but quickly dismissed the idea. Her mother was notorious for getting the truth out of her when the occasion arose. “I wandered down to the pond.”