Page 60 of The Frog Prince

Alwin was quiet at his back, his squelching steps growing quieter as the much-needed water seeped from his skin and left him dry and uncomfortable.

The frogs trailing after them almost the entire way grew distant, hiding in the shrubbery out of sight of anyone who might happen upon them.

The comfortable ease they had managed to forge while inside the cradle of leaves and tree trunks gave way to a stifling silence that allowed Otto to replay every moment in his head on an endless loop.

“Your thoughts are awfully loud, young master.”

They stood by the front door of Otto’s home, his trembling fingers pausing in their attempt to unlock it.

“They are,” he said slowly, not really sure how to broach the subject. Not even sure if he should try after Alwin had begged him not to. He turned his head to find Alwin’s half-shadowed face. “Alwin—”

“Otto,” Alwin said, reaching out a hand that hovered over Otto’s for a split second before he folded the fingers into a fist and pulled it away. Otto mourned that decision, finding through his disappointment that he would have welcomed the touch. “It is fine.”

The reply only made Otto’s frustration grow. Alwin was providing him a perfect escape, yet he was holding himself in the doorway, refusing to go through. “I simply wish… I want to say that I… What happened was…”

The words wouldn’t come, no matter how hard he searched for them, and he watched Alwin’s face fall with every failed attempt.

“You don’t have to force yourself,” Alwin said quietly, graciously. “I know you have no plans to rest tonight, so don’t let my presence prevent you from attending to your research. I’ll wait for you here and we will continue as we have so far. We shall never mention it again if you so wish.”

With that, he turned the key for Otto and entered the house, closing the door behind him.

Otto stared after him for a long time, one hand on the cool surface of the door, head bent.

“What if I don’t know what I wish?” he whispered.

Confusion clouding his vision, he turned away from his house, letting his feet take him along the dusty path toward Liesel’s.

Gisela answered the door, her hair tied back with a strip of fabric and a streak of dirt on her face.

“Otto,” she said in surprise. “Why are you here so late?”

“Otto?” Liesel spoke up from deeper in the house.

Gisela glanced over her shoulder quickly before leaning in to whisper, “What happened?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to check on you both. I made a trip to the forest again.”

“Again?” she gasped. “What did you try to do this time? Bargain with wolves?”

Otto scowled at her, his face flushing just as Liesel rounded the corner, her eyes lighting up once she spotted him. “Silly boy, come in. It’s cold out there.”

“I would love to, but I have some errands to run still. Next time,” he promised, scanning her for any hint of illness. She looked less tired and more content—the benefit of having Gisela there to keep her company and take on some of the workload.

“Errands?” she asked, pulling her woolen shawl tighter. “This late? What could be so urgent that it can’t wait for a reasonable hour?”

“I’m looking for a tub,” he said, the words rolling from the back of his brain to his tongue without his knowledge and falling straight out.

Liesel blinked, as confused as Otto was by his words. “A tub?”

“Or a barrel. One large enough to fit a man.”

Gisela’s gaze sharpened, an incredulous snort coming from her nose. “How large would this man be, perchance?”

Otto shifted on his feet. “Around my height.”

“But not as large?”

Liesel looked between them. “Do you know who this is for, Gisela?”