Prince Mikkael and Prince Nickolas—the two remaining men who appeared to be twins, though one of them wore an expression of curiosity and cheer and the other was as expressive as a wall—slowly approached their siblings.
The expressive one folded his arms behind his head as he strolled along. “Gerhie—did you really need so many trunks? I feel bad for the footmen who have to drag them up to your room.”
Prince Gerhart glared at him. “Perhaps it is because I choose to wear different clothes every night and day as opposed to wearing the same uncreative uniform until it smells.”
“That can’t be it,” the twin said. “You had more trunks than Elise and Gabi—and they had to stuff dresses in there.”
Before the siblings could argue any further, Princess Elle glided down the stairs with a bright smile. “Welcome, Your Highnesses, to Chanceux Chateau. I am Princess Elle—wife of Prince Severin.”
All the siblings bowed their heads—except for Crown Prince Steffen and Crown Princess Gabrielle, who outranked the Loire Princess.
“Thank you for the invitation.” Crown Princess Gabrielle gave Princess Elle a small but friendly smile. “We are honored to be here.”
Prince Gerhart moved to stand with his sister-in-law. “We are also grateful that you undertook this massive task, and we hope to work together for the good of the continent.”
“Of course,” Princess Elle said. “I imagine you would like to see your rooms? If you would come this way, I will show them to you.”
Ariane and every servant in the room tried to discreetly watch the Arcainian representatives sweep after their Loire mistress.
“A strange brand of royals, indeed,” murmured a maid at Ariane’s side.
Ariane juggled her bucket and the beeswax. “Oh?”
“Princess Gabrielle is a commoner, you know,” the maid said.
“Really? I thought she was a marquise.”
“She became a marquise after killing an ogre.” The maid clasped a hand to her heart.
Ariane eyed her, wondering why a Chanceux Chateau servant—who served Princess Elle the ex-Ranger—would find that disconcerting. She was equally surprised when another maid peeled off the wall and planted her hands on her hips.
“What would you know?” the new maid asked. “You are a Loire palace maid.”
Ahhh, that explains it. Sensing a budding argument, Ariane dipped a curtsey, then swerved around the pair. Ariane didn’t have much of an opinion about royalty and their duties. She only cared that they ruled well. Still, the subject of royalty was a complex topic in Loire, given that Prince Severin and Princess Elle were widely admired, and though Prince Lucien was the darling of the courts, he was known to be an idiot.
In fact, the only reason why the country very likely had not been divided into camps of various ideologies was because Prince Lucien made it plain he expected Prince Severin to be his primary advisor, and Prince Severin made it clear he would never rule.
Politics, Ariane shook her head. It’s best not to get involved. Cleaning, on the other hand, that is far more productive! Ariane pushed the notion of princesses and princes out of her mind and hurried for the dining room, anxious to get started on her next task.
Lucien peered up at Severin and Elle from a red pillow that had been positioned on Severin’s desk. “How could you do this to me?!”
Severin rubbed his eyes. “Two assassination attempts are two too many, Lucien. We had to take severe measures to protect you.”
“Assign guards to me and get me a food taster! Either of those plans are far more logical than turning me into a frog!” He tried to slap his front left foot on the velvet cushion for emphasis, but only succeeded in throwing off his balance and almost falling on his now-horizontal face.
Adjusting to his new—temporary—frog body was proving to be quite difficult. His senses were different—in particular his sight—and now he could barely move faster than a waddle. (He was a very fat frog. And while he could have bursts of speed, hopping down the hallway at anything more than a brisk walk was impossible.)
“I apologize, but I don’t regret your temporary form,” Severin said. “Lady Enchantress Angelique assured me you could withstand a drop from a third-story window, and your skin should be all but impossible to pierce now.”
“I don’t care if being a frog makes me immortal—you didn’t have to do this!”
“The King gave the command,” Severin said.
“Because you gave him the idea?” Lucien guessed.
Severin blinked. “Yes.”
“Why?” Lucien fidgeted on his cushion. “Why would you do this when there are a million less horrible things we could have done?”
“You are right, Lucien,” Elle said. “There are other precautions we could have taken. But, to be blunt, this time it’s too critical.”
“What do you mean?” Lucien asked.
“The Summit is important,” Severin said. “We have to unite what countries we can, or the continent might be lost. You know this.”
“Yes,” Lucien said in a sulking tone. “So?”
“We cannot focus on your safety at this time,” Severin said. “The Summit must be foremost.”
“Getting Angelique to turn you into a frog was the best way to keep you safe while expending the least amount of force,” Elle leaned against Severin’s chair and draped an arm across her husband’s shoulders. “Since we cannot give your situation the attention required for keeping you alive—at this time—this was the best alternative.”
Lucien wanted to storm and shout, but there was truth to their words. Though many brushed it off, saying the sudden increase in monsters and attacks against royalty was part of a pattern, Lucien knew better. The moment Severin had been cursed for no apparent reason, Lucien had been on his guard against magic. He didn’t particularly care what happened in the rest of the world, but Severin had been attacked. That was unforgiveable.
“You will only remain as a frog for the duration of the Summit,” Severin said. “Once it is over, we will be able to reevaluate the threat against you.”
Lucien briefly puffed up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Elle snorted. “If we had, you would have run off.”
“I would not have!”
Severin and Elle exchanged glances. Lucien would have grimaced at the exchange—if he could have. Elle has done a lot of good for Severin…but she’s also given Severin a scheming partner he wouldn’t have had previously! Lucien ignored the nagging thought that he was jealous of their closeness, and instead croaked—which sounded like a sheep with indigestion problems. “I need wine.”
“If you were less prone to drinking and more prone to paying attention in those classes the King still makes you take, we would have told you,” Elle said sourly.
“Elle,” Severin said in a warning tone.