Page 62 of The Frog Prince

Otto froze.

Was Henne watching him? Keeping track of his movements? His heart stuttered. Had he seen Alwin?

“Now Gisela is healthy she wants to pay Liesel back by helping her. I saw no problem with that. She can do as she pleases,” Otto lied.

Henne narrowed his eyes. “How noble. I suppose your father left some of that in you before he died.”

Otto flinched and Henne smiled to see it.

“I visited Old Henry’s farm just a moment ago,” Otto said, trying to regain his footing in the conversation. “They said they waited for you but you never came.”

Henne snorted, walking farther into the shop. “I was busy with other appointments. They simply need a refill of their prescriptions. I’m sure you can manage them now you’re back.”

“You haven’t even seen them. How would you know they need a refill of a prescription?”

“Did they find a magical cure in the woods as well?”

Otto fought not to react, pressing forward. “The youngest is showing signs of advanced respiratory illness, but her prescription would only treat a common cold.”

Henne stilled dangerously. “Are you questioning my practices, Otto?”

“The prescription is wrong.”

“They have been instructed to take honey and turmeric tea as well as their prescription, which will sooth the airways.”

“That will barely brush the surface this far along and you know it. She needs black seed oil or—”

“Enough!” Henne slammed his cane into the ground. “I won’t hear any more about it. You’re an apprentice, who are you to tell me what is wrong or right? You have no formal training, you didn’t even complete your standard education. I could dismiss you from my practice for being so bold, and who else would take you, hm? You’re anobody, Otto. You should be grateful I even said yes to taking you on and showing you anything.”

Otto’s face burned, splotchy red with the depth of his anger.

Heknewhe was right, but he had no way to prove it. Not against someone like Henne, who held power and coveted more. No one would believe a nobody apprentice over an established healer without solid evidence.

And Otto was coming to believe that there was proof to be found, suspicions taking root in his mind and beginning to form as he looked at his mentor in a completely new light.

Those greedy eyes dropped to the desk, the glint in them growing brighter as he realized what he was seeing.

“Skulking Peas and Fyores?” he said breathlessly, picking up the delicate blooms in his gnarled hands. “Wherever did you find these?”

“I came across them by pure chance.” Otto’s back stiffened with the urge to snatch them from his greedy fingers. “There weren’t many, but I got the ones that were there.”

“Incredible,” Henne said, pulling the herbs to his side of the desk, detaching Otto from them as if they didn’t belong to him at all. As if they were all Henne’s from the moment Otto carried them inside.

Sadly, they were. Henne had taken everything Otto had ever found or made and claimed it as his own.

“Anything else?” Henne asked as if he hadn’t just taken a year’s worth of income in rare herbs. The look in his eyes was hungry, feral almost as he handled the flowers with less care than they deserved. A few petals were already bruising under his grip, and Otto felt his insides turn.

His fingers wrapped around the Blue Moons again for a split second, an image of them squashed in Henne’s hands flashing through his mind, before he shook his head. He pretended to dig around his bag to double-check, before pulling his empty hand out.

“No, that’s it.”

“And you say you just happened upon these?” Henne asked.

Otto could hear the suspicion in his voice.

“Yes.” He aimed for nonchalant, knowing he was making a poor showing. “It was the oddest thing. I was gathering some of these other herbs and chopped a part of a bush and there they were, hiding.”

“Most peculiar,” Henne said, leaning against the edge of the desk and looming into Otto’s space. “Almost too hard to believe it’s true.”