Page 129 of The Frog Prince

“You are the ruler of a kingdom, my prince,” Otto said, and Alwin liked how the beloved nickname stayed, despite Alwin’s change in title. When Alwin asked about it, Otto had said Alwin was a prince to him. He had met and fallen in love with the Frog Prince, and he would always be that in Otto’s eyes. A prince. “You belong to your people and your land and your ancestors. But this…these parts of you that remain from your past…these are all mine.”

“Forever,” Alwin said.

Otto smiled, nudging Alwin closer with his hand on his back until they were pressed together. “Beyond forever.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Human Alwin was about the same height as his young master, but Otto had bulk on him. Even now, with his muscles returned and his body mostly human again, Otto was twice his size, and it never failed to make Alwin feel safe and protected in his arms.

He pressed his face into Otto’s furred collar and sighed.

“I miss the glen, but I like it here,” Otto murmured.

Alwin hummed, turning his head slightly and casting his gaze across the pond over Otto’s shoulder. He spotted Jurgen on a far rock, observing the frogs splashing in the water cooly, and smiled, the action hidden by the fur.

“This place can be just as special,” Alwin said at last, feeling it in his heart—a warm contentment pushing all his nerves and fears aside. “I’m happy you suggested coming here so early.”

Otto ran a hand through his hair and Alwin’s eyelids fluttered. It was one of the things he loved the most about having transformed back. He would lie still for hours with his head in Otto’s lap, as Otto brushed his fingers through Alwin’s dark locks. They had fallen asleep that way last night, Alwin too stressed. It had been the only way to stop him from pacing a hole in the floor.

“I may have had another reason for bringing you here today,” Otto said after a time, and Alwin whipped his head up to meet his mischievous gaze. Otto tugged him by his naked hand, always choosing skin to skin contact when they were alone. “Come.”

He led the way to the edge of the pavilion where the wooden floor met the drop-off into the pond, directing him until Alwin was leaning against the chaise that had been put there for Otto.

Otto knelt in front of him and Alwin swallowed, his breath hitching.

“I have something for you,” Otto said, then he turned his head, whispering something Alwin couldn’t quite catch.

The water rippled, and Farwin came hopping out toward them, something glistening in his hand. He allowed Otto to take it, his mouth falling open in a froggy grin before he disappeared without a word. Most peculiar. And suspicious.

“How did you get him to stay quiet?” Alwin asked.

Otto chuckled. “Gisela. He wouldn’t listen to a word I said.”

“Brat.”

“Both of you have spoiled him rotten.”

“I beg your pardon!” Alwin said. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Of course not. Never implied otherwise.”

“Now you’re being sarcastic.”

Otto’s laugh was music to his ears.

“Never mind that.” Otto thumbed the glittering thing in his hands for a moment before presenting it to Alwin, his cheeks turning red as his body painted abstract shapes with his shifting shadow. “Here.”

Alwin took the object, his eyes going wide when he realized he was looking at a crown. A thin, simple crown made of gold.

“I…I talked to your mother,” Otto said. “I had this idea, but I didn’t want to disrespect your traditions. I just wanted you to have something to represent who you are. It’s…it’s made from my golden ball.”

Alwin’s breath froze in his lungs.

“Otto…” he breathed.

“It kept us tied to each other all our lives, so I had Farwin get a hold of it while you slept. I…I’m not much of an artist, but I explained to the jeweler what I wanted as best as I could.”