The Frog Prince (Timeless Fairy Tales #9)

Henry picked Lucien up and carried him to a small end table. “What of her?”

“This morning she dared to tell me how I ought to conduct myself during a meeting—she said it wasn’t good enough to rely on Severin!” Lucien climbed into the bowl of tepid water Henry set down next to him.

As little as he liked it, he was far more comfortable when his skin was wet. When dry, it caused him mild discomfort, but things could be worse. Thank goodness I don’t have to subside on insects. Lucien splashed around in the water before he remembered himself. “The cheek of that girl! She ought to be thrown from the chateau.”

“I believe Princess Elle has said far worse of you,” Henry said.

“Maybe, but at least she is my sister-in-law. Ariane is a servant,” Lucien said.

“I am impressed you expended the energy it took to remember her name rather than referring to her merely through pronouns,” Henry said.

“I know all the servants by name.” Lucien croaked in irritation when he hefted himself out of his water bowl and nearly spilt the thing.

Henry blinked slowly at Lucien.

“I do!” Lucien puffed up. “For security purposes, of course. As a prince I shouldn’t have to know them, but in these troubled times, it’s important to know who surrounds you—even if they are of a lower class.”

Henry furrowed his brow. “Then you knew Mademoiselle Ariane’s name before she aided us when you were attacked?”

“Of course. She was hired on two years ago as a house maid. And now she dares to tell me how I ought to act!”

“And how did the meeting go?” Henry asked, ignoring Lucien’s anger as he fluffed Lucien’s day cushion.

Lucien crawled across the table, leaving a wet trail behind him. “It’s worse than I thought,” he admitted. “I believed I had an accurate measure on things with my Rangers acting as my eyes and ears, but there has been more trouble than I estimated.”

Henry nodded. “I am glad you have realized that, Your Highness.”

Lucien suspiciously eyed his valet. “Are you going to join Father, my teachers, and now the maids in brow-beating me to act more ‘princely’?”

“No,” Henry said.

“Why not?”

“Because for the moment I am reassured enough that—in spite of your complaints about nosey maids—you must have been listening to the meeting after all, or you wouldn’t have this particular opinion.”

Lucien was silent as he stared at his valet, who was fixing the blanket Lucien had landed on. This is why I didn’t want a military-trained valet. He is far too observant and cunning for my taste.



On the second day of meetings, Prince Lucien—and Ariane—were displaced to a small table just behind Severin’s seat.

Ariane suspected the move was meant to somewhat hide Lucien’s clear disinterest with the proceedings, but she didn’t trust that the new spot would really succeed in that venture as Severin sat at the head of the oval-ish shape in which the tables were arranged.

Perhaps Prince Severin is hopeful no one will be able to see Lucien. Ariane glanced down at the prince, who was stretched out across his cushion and had a webbed foot dangling into a teacup of water.

He is such a disgrace. Ariane held in a sigh and returned her attention to the speakers.

“Sorcerer Rothbart’s shadow has plagued my people for years,” Emperor Yevgeniy of Kozlovka said. “We need help—of the magical sort—to dislodge him if we are to provide any sort of support.”

Colonel Friedrich of Erlauf studied the emperor with his good eye. “You’ve informed the Conclave?”

“Yes,” the emperor said. “No help has come.”

Lady Enchantress Angelique delicately cleared her throat. “I will admit to the Conclave’s fault in this area,” she said. “But we were only recently informed of your situation.”

It is quite interesting to see the different dynamics between all the countries. Ariane neatly folded her hands in her lap. They must be careful not to offend anyone—powerful magic users like the lady enchantress included.

“I am afraid I must disagree with you, Lady Enchantress. I have been sending messages to the Conclave for years,” Emperor Yevgeniy said.

Ariane’s eyes flickered from the emperor to Angelique. Surprise registered on the lovely enchantress’s face. She looked to the other magic users who were in attendance as well, and they all also seemed surprised with this news.

“I understand your frustration,” Princess Astra of Baris said with narrowed eyes. “But I find it disdainful that one rogue sorcerer can occupy your entire country.”

“Baris is only dealing with harpies, are they not?” the emperor asked.

“Yes, but that is likely because fifty years ago we managed to fight off a wave of dark magic,” the princess said. “And we had to do that on our own. Neither the Conclave nor any of the countries here were willing to help at the time. Back then we all warned you that it did not bode well for the future, but our warnings were ignored. And now you say you cannot handle one measly sorcerer?”

“Baris has proven its exceptional strength and its power of foresight. But not every country can do what Baris did,” Prince Severin—ever the intermediary—said.

Ariane glanced down at Lucien for contrast. The frog prince was making swirlie patterns in his teacup with his toes.

“Arcainia did.” Princess Astra turned her piercing gaze to the Arcainian representatives. “Twice. Once with the ogre, and once with a witch.”

“Indeed,” Puss—Crown Princess Gabrielle’s talking black and white cat, who still occasionally made Ariane’s mind struggle—said. “But Arcainia has proven to have an exceptionally smart royal family.”

Ariane glanced at the Kozlovkan Emperor, wondering if he would take offense to the statement, but Crown Prince Steffen diffused the situation before it could grow any tenser.

“May I assume that I am included in my family as being exceptionally smart?” the prince asked.

The cat twitched his nose. “On average, no. However, you did make one brilliant decision in your life that negates that.”

“Marrying Gabrielle?” Crown Prince Steffen guessed.

“Naturally,” Puss said.

This raised a few chuckles as Crown Prince Steffen rolled his eyes. He was placated when his wife took his hand and rested it on the table. He brought it to his lips and kissed it.

Ariane relaxed slightly and rearranged her hands to fight the impulse to braid her hair that curled around her shoulders. She studied the glossy surface of the table, her eyes traveling across the decorative flourishes carved into the edge.

“Please, continue, Emperor Yevgeniy,” Prince Severin said.

As she listened to the conversation renew, Ariane mindlessly used the skirts of her dress to brush some dust out of a few flourishes.

She paused when she realized Lucien had twisted so he could stare at her. “Do you need something, Your Highness?”

“What are you doing?”

Ariane quickly smoothed her skirts and clasped her hands together. “Nothing, Your Highness.”

“You were jiggling the table.”