Page 24 of The Frog Prince (The GriMM Tales #6)

“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 a nobody , 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.

He knew he 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.”

“Why would I be lying?”

“You tell me.” Henne’s lip curled. “You seem to be hiding a lot from me these days.”

“Like what?” Otto asked, growing increasingly uncomfortable with their conversation.

“Your good luck has been incomparable of late. Some might think something else is responsible for it.”

“I know of nothing that could accomplish such things.”

Henne laughed out loud. “You’re as terrible a liar as your father.”

Otto gritted his teeth. “Stop mentioning him. I am nothing like him.”

“Are you not? Didn’t he risk everything for what he wanted?”

“I wanted my sister well. We are not the same!” Otto hissed.

Henne’s eyes sharpened. “Is that why it granted it to you?”

Otto froze, panic ringing through him like a bell toll. He looked away. “What are you talking about? I told you, I found the herbs alone.”

Henne grabbed an empty bottle and smashed it against the wall in a fit of fury, advancing on a shocked Otto and grabbing his shirtfront. “The Frog Prince! You made a deal with him! Do you think me an imbecile?!”

“The Frog Prince is a rumor,” Otto gasped, pushing at his hand. “A tale mothers tell their children at night to get them to behave. How could I possibly have found a fairy tale?”

Henne yanked them so they were nose to nose. “What did you trade?”

“Nothing.”

“TELL ME!”

Otto shoved the man off him forcefully. “You’ve gone mad. There is no such thing as a Frog Prince.”

He gathered his bag quickly and bolted for the door.

“I’ll find out what you gave it, Otto!” Henne shouted at his back, unable to chase him. “Mark my words!”

Anger and fear made his insides burn and his steps quick. Henne’s dismissal of Alwin’s personhood grated on his nerves, and the panic that was simmering in his gut wouldn’t let go.

It was his original fear come to life.

Henne couldn’t know about Alwin.

He could never know.

Otto stormed down the dimly lit street toward home, steps heavy and rushed.

He was so lost inside his head he didn’t even hear the sound of another set of footsteps before someone barreled into him head-on, long arms wrapping around his waist and thin fingers clutching the back of his shirt.

“Otto!”

He was shocked to find Alwin staring at him, eyes wide and worried, out in the open in the middle of the path.

“Alwin!” Otto gasped, holding on to him so he wouldn’t topple them both over, the panic inside him doubling.

“You’re okay!” Alwin said, patting Otto’s chest and holding his face between cool, damp hands for a moment as he looked him over. He seemed frantic.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Otto asked, looking around in dread as he tried to back him up. “Alwin, you shouldn’t be outside. We need to go.”

“Someone was at your home,” Alwin said, not moving an inch. Otto’s heart stopped beating. “Someone tried to get inside.”

Otto pushed Alwin into the nearest alley between two shops, only stopping to make sure no one else was around before he took Alwin’s hand in his and ran for the next shadow, closer to the forest. He didn’t stop until they were far away, in a secluded alcove where firewood was stored, between a few larger houses on the outskirts of the village.

The cramped space pushed them together, the scent of lumber mixing with the earthy, damp tones of Alwin’s natural scent as his chest pressed into Otto’s.

“What are you talking about?” Otto whispered, his breath ghosting over Alwin’s face and making his lids flutter.

“Someone tried to break into your house,” Alwin said, voice clipped and scared.

“Are you all right?” He mimicked Alwin’s movements from earlier as he tried to look him over to see if he had been hurt.

“I did my best to make noise, hoping it would scare them off, and it succeeded. They didn’t take anything.

I didn’t let them,” Alwin rushed out. “I wouldn’t let them take anything from you.

I had to come and find you to see that you were well.

I wasn’t sure if it was just an everyday thief or something more nefarious… ”

Otto stared at Alwin, listening to his words and barely believing what he was hearing.

“You risked your safety?” Otto asked quietly. “For me.”

Alwin shifted on his feet, looking like he didn’t want to answer as he stared at the point of contact between them, avoiding Otto’s eyes.

Otto could feel his chest expanding with each breath against his own and he flushed at the realization that he was so much broader than Alwin.

He was shielding him from view, and it made a wave of protectiveness surge inside of him.

Sometimes Alwin seemed so big. His presence was enough to fill an entire room, his princely demeanor commanding attention.

He was learning that behind that mask was someone smaller, but no less impressive.

Someone smart, who acted bravely and fearlessly but was so vulnerable to damage in the process.

The idea of him being hurt made Otto want to smash something.

“Alwin, look at me.” Extraordinary green eyes met his. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Alwin said, but Otto shook his head.

“It wasn’t. You risked your own safety, but you can’t put yourself in danger like that, and you can’t wander around the village. If someone sees you, you’ll be lynched. Or worse.”

Alwin squirmed under his scrutiny, and Otto felt his face heat from more than worry.

“Promise me.”

“What?” Alwin asked.

“Promise you’ll take better care of yourself.”

“I…” Alwin paused. “I promise I will try.”

Otto figured it was the best he would get. Alwin didn’t want to make a promise he couldn’t keep, so Otto made a silent promise in that moment that he would do it for him.

“Did you happen to see who it was?” Otto asked.

“Only a glimpse of dark hair,” Alwin said quietly, flattening his wide mouth. “They were quick. Quicker than even my extra eyes in the grass could see.”

“Not Henne then,” Otto muttered to himself. “Not that he’d have had time, I don’t think.”

“I’d know if it were your mentor,” Alwin said softly, and Otto’s brow creased immediately in question. “I know him.”

“What?” Otto braced one hand on the wall next to Alwin’s head.

“Henne.” Alwin’s eyes flashed to the side for a split second to look at Otto’s arm. “Several years back he came to me with a request.”

Otto began to put the pieces together immediately. It should have been obvious, but he’d skipped over it in his panic. Henne’s insistent fervor and insane obsession with Otto’s whereabouts came together, and it could mean only one thing. “You refused him. He asked for a deal and you said no.”

“Yes.”

Otto snorted, then laughed mirthlessly. “I’ll bet anything he asked to be the richest healer to ever live, tending to kings and queens and rolling in gold and silk with his name known far and wide.”

Alwin frowned. “That is oddly specific.”

“They’re the only things he truly wants. To be known and to be rich.” Otto had heard it countless times. “Was that what he asked for?”

“I can’t say,” Alwin said. “The magic doesn’t allow me.”

“You didn’t say it, I guessed it.”

Alwin half smiled, glancing down. “Indeed. I can’t stop you from guessing.”