Page 17 of The Frog Prince

Rude, Jurgen said, glaring at Alwin through sleepy eyes.

“We have to get moving! Otto comes back tomorrow, and this place has to be spotless by the time he arrives. Begin!”

They scattered, and Alwin dove back into it with them with mindless fervor, spending the day cleaning and primping and testing out different options for a bed before deeming every last one not good enough for Otto.

Otto, who was beautiful.

Otto, who was kind.

Otto, who loved his sister enough to tie himself to a monster.

Alwin froze in his steps as the thought filtered through his mind. He was a monster. Why would Otto even consider him when he could have anyone else?

Alwin had saved his sister, but that changed nothing of what he looked like. Of what he could still look like if he ever broke the curse.

That was what Otto would see. Not the handsome man Alwin used to be. Not the prince who turned heads and captured hearts. But an abomination that struck fear into the hearts of the strongest men.

Was this a futile effort?

Otto would never love him.

Up! Farwin got into his face again, pushing the corners of his mouth upward.

“We’ve discussed personal boundaries before, Farwin,” Alwin said, the words heavy on his tongue.

Happy.

Alwin shook his head. “No, friend, I am not happy.”

Why?

“What if all of this is for nothing? What if he never sees me as anything other than…this? What if I’m putting my hopes on someone who’s just like everyone else?”

Farwin stared at him, silent and focused for a change before breaking out of it with a simple shrug.

Try, he said before hopping away.

“Try,” Alwin repeated.

There wasn’t anything as exhausting as trying. Yet, Alwin couldn’t give up either.

They finished the day like the previous one, bone-tired and falling asleep wherever they managed to find a spot to rest. Dreams of gold still plagued his mind before they woke up bright and early and picked up where they’d left off as if the night hadn’t stopped them at all.

The room was mostly clean and ready. Alwin still didn’t have a suitable bed, but he did have a pile of soft shrubbery stacked inone corner, an unnaturally large lily pad lying over the top. He just needed to find something he could trade to make it last.

The day ran away from him as he imagined Otto in his space. He shifted between excitement, fear, anticipation, and panic as the hours ticked by.

He kept running outside to watch the path that would lead Otto to him. Watched it remain empty every time he went.

Watched the light hit one side of it in the morning, move to the middle in the afternoon, and kiss the other side in early evening before night painted it black.

He stood next to the well, staring.

Fingers clenched into fists. Lips pressed tightly together.

Night had fallen.

The path remained empty.