The Frog Prince (Timeless Fairy Tales #9)

“I am not certain a ball is appropriate given the subject of discussion.” Ariane was only half paying attention as she flipped her hair over her shoulders and set about straightening the rugs splayed out in the vast room. (She was starting to hatch a secret plan to request she be assigned to the palace library. Severin’s servants kept the library impressively clean. She suspected that was partially due to its frequent use—a problem the palace library likely did not share.)

“We should get one of the mages to do magic displays of some sort. Or—”

“The Summit does not need more wine.” Ariane glanced in the prince’s direction, amused when he lifted his head up in a refusal to acknowledge her and, as a result, almost fell off the shelf he was exploring.

“I should make arrangements for some bit of entertainment,” Lucien said. “The gloomy air of the discussion is unforgivable.”

Ariane dusted off a porcelain vase that was filled with fresh, sweet-smelling flowers. “That is understandable, given that the representatives are attacking a very grim idea. Never before has there been such evil in our lands.”

“Hah! You have such a quaint view of our history.” Lucien hooted and this time did fall off the bookshelf, landing with a satisfying splat.

Ariane set her cloth down on a table and approached the prince, picking him up and setting him back on the bookshelf. She was starting to grow used to the slimy feel of his skin and didn’t shudder whenever she touched him anymore. “What in history compares to the great evil we are facing now?”

“Only just about everything,” Lucien said. “The Snow Queen is one of the earliest—and best-recorded—examples we have of good magic users clashing with evil magic users, but it’s a pattern that’s been repeated innumerably since then.”

Ariane lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?” She retrieved her cloth and wiped up the wet mark Lucien had left on the floor.

“Indeed.” Lucien inflated his chest and looked pointedly away from Ariane. “Nearly every century there has been a conflict of some sort. Loire was founded after a great clash between good and evil as a result of the Girl in the Glass Coffin, and as recently as fifty years ago, Baris experienced a similar event.”

Ariane listened to the prince rattle on. I wonder how far I can lure him out of his act… Inspired, she smiled. “But this is the first Summit of its kind. It’s a historic event.”

“Yes, well, this is the first time the whole continent has been rather overrun by such evil magic and evil creatures. It is quite suspicious—everything had grown quiet after the conflict in Baris and then suddenly things started ramping up. And that is what everyone is worried about. It leads us to believe there is something or someone behind this all.” He cut off the sentence rather abruptly.

Ariane glanced up at him and watched as he waddled in a circle.

When he spoke again, his voice had regained its arrogant streak. “And you’ve just proven my point—we need entertainment! Another day of this, and I’ll start sounding morose and grow a giant mustache like Scholar Pierre! Call for the guards—I know a musical group from Noyers who play a good waltz.”

Ariane stood and ignored his order. “Why do you hide your intelligence behind a mask of negligence?”

Lucien squirmed around so he could look at her. “What did you say?”

“Why do you hide your intelligence behind a mask of negligence?” she repeated.

“You dare to—”

“Your Highness, it is apparent that you are bright and well versed in matters of history, politics, and economics. You have displayed your aptitudes again and again over the last two days.” She hesitated, uncertain if she was overstepping her bounds with the next bit. “Yet in Noyers, you exclusively concentrate on charming your nobles and performing social niceties. Why?”

Prince Lucien was silent for several long moments. “I am not so intelligent as you think.”

“But you—”

“I am not.” The words held traces of thunder and were filled with more emotion than Ariane had ever heard him utter. “Enough. I tire of this topic. Take me to the banquet hall.”

“Dinner will not be served for at least half an hour, Your Highness.”

The frog prince turned his back to her again. “I don’t care. Just…take me there.”

It’s my fault. I pushed him too far. Ariane bobbed a slight curtsey before picking him up. “Yes, Your Highness.”

When she set him on his cushion and carried him from the library, Lucien released a bone-deep sigh.

Ariane returned to her usual maid conduct and kept her mouth shut despite the obvious weariness in his sigh. Whatever the reason for his act, he doesn’t enjoy it.



It wasn’t until the following day that Lucien loosened up again and returned to his usual complaints and arrogance—though now Ariane was starting to see cracks in the mask.

He continued to order Ariane to eat before him—for the previous evening’s dinner, as well as today’s lunch—and though he made a great show of not paying attention to the meetings, he was capable of keeping up with the mealtime conversation. Still, his actions were a mystery to Ariane.

I suppose it doesn’t matter if I understand his motivation or not. I’m reassured for the future of Loire that he will be a good king—or at least smarter than everyone seems to believe. As a maid, I cannot expect more than that. Indeed, I’m lucky I had the chance to draw that conclusion.

Ariane glanced out the windows at the stone balcony that opened up into the gardens as she toted Lucien from the ballroom to the banquet hall for lunch. The gardens were so green and bright, and there were a number of soldiers strategically positioned in them. (Severin had doubled the guards after the snake incident.)

“Do you think we could see the gardens again tonight?” Ariane asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Lucien said. “Severin has enough guards out there to fend off a siege.”

“There’s no need to wait until tonight—you should see it now!” Princess Elle said, making Ariane jump when she appeared suddenly at her side.

Lucien puffed up his chest. “Come to spy on me to assure Severin I’m not doing something idiotic, eh?”

“No, actually. This time I’m running an errand for myself.” Princess Elle’s smile was mischievous and bright—making it impossible not to smile back at the unlikely princess. “Which is why I insist.” She gently took Ariane by the elbow and led her in the opposite direction of the banquet hall.

“Um, Your Highness?” Ariane ventured as Lucien squawked—jumbled by the light grip Elle had on Ariane’s arm.

Elle winked at her as they strolled through several hallways. “I’ve already told you, it’s Elle. Ah—here we are. The Rose Salon!”

The Rose Salon—as its name implied—overlooked the rose garden. Windows lined the far side of the room, and two glass doors opened into the gardens, which were mostly green, though there were a few promising buds. The wood paneling and furniture gleamed from expertly handled cleaning. The room was decorated in dusty hues of pink and orange, and a fresco that appeared to have been recently re-done adorned the ceiling.

“Here, Lucien.” Elle plucked Lucien and his cushion from Ariane’s arms and carried him across the room. “You admire the gardens while we ladies discuss some feminine matters.”