Page 14 of The Frog Prince

Water’s safe,one frog said.

So’s the mud,another one added.

We share mud,a third one supplied.

“Believe it or not, dear ones, humans aren’t keen on sleeping in the mud.” Alwin chuckled softly at the ensuing expressions on his little friends’ faces. “Yes, very shocking. Alas, we will have to find one spot that has a roof still standing. And maybe…”

He trailed off. Truly, he didn’t know what they could do to make the ruins inviting. How to make human eyes see what he saw.

“I am sure I will think of something once we begin,” he said finally, pulling at the ends of his waistcoat and making sure his collar was sitting high enough to cover his entire throat. “So, shall we?”

The frogs croaked and shuffled quickly from the forest floor and waters to the ruins Alwin had turned into his palace. Among the frogs, because he was one of them, but inside a castle,however ruined, because he was royalty, and nobody would take that away from him.

Fitting for a Frog Prince.

Looking out, he let his eyes settle on the piles of rocks stacked behind the well. Rocks hiding the last resting places of his loyal friends.

“I will bring us all home,” he whispered before he walked farther into the gaping mouth of the former castle, coming to stand in what he assumed used to be a foyer.

It was now barely a room.

The stairs led to the entrance, which opened onto two still-standing walls and a pile of stones that used to make up the rest of the wide space.

“We should move those, I think.” He pointed to a pile of rubble, but before he could specify where he’d like it moved, an army of frogs descended on it, shuffling it left and right. “In that corner.”

Alwin gestured toward the far-right corner where there was a fairly deep hole in the floor. He thought the rubble would fill that in quite nicely.

“We need much of the moss and vines torn from the walls as well,” he directed his little army.

Pretty, a frog said, tiny limbs already wrapped around a vine on the wall.

“I agree. But I doubt a human would have the same appreciation for it, so it must go, I’m afraid.”

What does Majesty do?one of his sassier frogs asked, eyeing him as everyone worked hard and he stood in the middle of it, watching.

“Oversee the progress naturally.”

Bigger hands work faster.

Alwin snorted out a laugh that cut off when his mind supplied images of strong hands and long, thick fingers. He pushed them aside.

“Well I suppose you do raise a valid point. What sort of prince leaves everyone else to work while he does nothing himself, hm? I will also help.”

He approached a swarm of frogs attacking a curtain of heavy vines on one of the walls, finding a way to reach between their squirming bodies and grip at the sturdiest ones. He pulled with all his might, but it held fast.

Not helping,one frog said, extending one tiny foot and shoving him in the thigh with it. Alwin winced at the sting of pain.

“I am doing my best.”

The frog paused to stare.Hurt?

“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “A willing trade I’d make for any of you.”

Move,the frog said, but the croak was softer and the pushing stopped. Alwin stepped back, wondering when he’d become such a pushover for his frogs.

Maybe when he’d realized there was nobody else there.

Maybe when he’d realized they were the only ones not cowering in fear and disgust when they looked at him.