“Good. If you get lost, don’t hesitate to ask a Chanceux staff member.” Marcelle opened the door to the young princess’s rooms. “That is all. Welcome to Chanceux Chateau, Ariane.” She smiled, then turned on her heels and hurried back the way she had come, the black and white of her uniform a stark marker against the colorful carpet and elaborate decorations.
Ariane ducked into the room that was to be Princess Sylvie’s and rolled up her sleeves as she glanced around. “I’ll have to air the place out, put fresh linens on the bed, and shake out the drapes for certain.” She pulled the curtains aside, letting sunlight stream into the room—which was not nearly as dust-covered as she had originally estimated. “I should wait to make the bed until I get all of the dust out…” she murmured as she opened the windows.
Soon, she was immersed in her task, happy and completely unaware of the chaos that was about to rain down upon her.
Ariane bit her lower lip and squinted as she rubbed at the gold framework that encased a sparkling mirror.
Polishing the mirror was the last task she needed to complete before she could confidently declare the room cleaned. She buffed out the fingerprints she had left when holding the gold frame, then stepped back and grinned in satisfaction.
“It's done.” Ariane turned in a circle, her eyes flicking from the newly polished mirror to the freshened drapes, plumped pillows, and the wooden armoire and end tables that gleamed in the sunlight. She nodded as she completed her inspection and returned her gaze to the mirror. “Just as it should be,” she told her reflection. She took a moment to critically eye herself, searching for imperfections in her uniform or hair that had pulled loose from the tight braid she had wrestled it into for the day.
She had always liked her hair, which at times was a little too messy but could easily be tamed by a braid. (She forgave the messiness because it was the same shade as a stained oak table directly after it had been polished.)
Gazing into the mirror, she saw her apron was a little skewed, and she had unfortunately collected a few smudges of ash from ruthlessly attacking the fireplace. But she was still presentable, though the smudges would bother her for the rest of the day.
Once her white apron was straightened, Ariane nodded, then gathered up the cleaning cloths, her wooden bucket of soapy water, and the block of beeswax she had applied to a few nicked corners of the armoire.
Marcelle said to return to the dining room for my next task, she thought as she hurried to the door. I wonder what Heloise will have us do. Perhaps there are some additional rooms that must be cleaned.... Ariane paused when she ducked into the hallway and blinked in surprise at the sight of Prince Lucien speaking to a gorgeous woman and strolling down the hallway.
She had to be a mage, for her dress seemed to bleed from one beautiful shade of color to the next, and her eye color changed based on the lighting and the way she tilted her head. However, mage or not, she was absolutely stunning.
Her beauty seemed to have a profound effect on Lucien, for the prince wore the smarmy smile Ariane had seen him use on the most beautiful daughters of Loire nobility at the handful of state events at which she had served. Though she was tempted to shake her head, Ariane kept her face blank as she turned to wipe down the door to Lucien’s room.
“Will you not spend the afternoon with me, Lady Enchantress?” Lucien asked.
If Ariane hadn't been trained to be discreet, she would have dropped her cleaning materials. An enchantress? Soap suds and rags, is he being bold. Usually magic users as powerful as enchanters and enchantresses only married other high-ranking mages, if they married at all—though it was not unheard of for powerful magic users to marry nobility as well. Still, Prince Lucien's words were rather daring considering his companion looked as charmed as a cat that had fallen into a washtub.
“I'm afraid I will have to refuse,” the Lady Enchantress said in a voice that possessed the smooth singsong quality of an alto singer.
The prince woefully shook his head, making a handsome picture of disappointment. “How could you be so cruel? My day shall be ruined if you do not agree to a stroll through my brother's gardens.” Prince Lucien spoke in a winning voice that made Ariane want to roll her eyes. Amusingly enough, it seemed have the same effect on the Lady Enchantress, for she stopped walking.
“I'm afraid your day will be ruined then, for you will not be going for a stroll regardless of whether or not I accompany you.”
Prince Lucien meticulously fixed a pleat in his puffed petticoat breeches. “Whatever do you mean?”
The Lady Enchantress smiled. Though the expression made her eyes sparkle and added to her beauty so much so it was hard to breathe while looking at her, Ariane could detect the faintest trace of glee in the setting of her lips. “Due to the recent attempts on your life, both your brother and your father officially requested that I intervene and do whatever is necessary to see that you are properly protected during this insecure time.”
Lucien abruptly grew several inches taller as he straightened up and pulled back from the enchantress. He laughed. “You can't mean to...” His words died as he shook his head.
Lady Enchantress's smile grew sweet. “Oh, but I do. Please allow me to assure you that I take great pleasure in this act. Prince Lucien, I curse you to take the form of what you really are, a frog.” Silver magic that glittered like stardust swirled around the Lady Enchantress. Lucien turned and tried to run away, but the magic snapped down around him like a bear trap, completely encasing him.
His howls of anger were still audible through the cocoon of magic, and there was a new spring in the Lady Enchantress's steps as she moved closer to him. “Until I break your curse, or until a girl who finds you as distasteful as I do comes to love you and gives you true love’s kiss, you shall remain a frog.”
Something fell with a splat inside the cocoon. When the cloud of magic dispersed, it left behind a frog the size of a dessert plate.
The enchantress smiled down at the frog, and the frog stared up at the enchantress.
Finally, a voice—Prince Lucien’s—erupted from the frog. “What did you do to me?!”
“Exactly as I said: I turned you into a frog,” the enchantress said.
Ariane had to hold her breath to keep from bursting into great bellows of laughter as she finished with the door. Finally! Someone has finally given Prince Lucien what he deserves—though it would have been even more appropriate if he were a pig!
“A frog?” Prince Lucien’s words were nearly lost in a froggy croak. “Why?!”
“You needed to be small.”
“Then you should have turned me into a kitten!”
“I could have,” the Lady Enchantress acknowledged. “But I just didn’t want to. Now hold still—there are a few more spells I have to place on you.”