Page 27 of The Frog Prince (The GriMM Tales #6)

Twelve

Alwin

“ H ome, sweet home,” Alwin said when they’d finally made their way to the ruins.

It was a long trip with few breaks. Even on a straight path, the distance was substantial, but it seemed like nothing with Otto’s hand wrapped around his.

Alwin didn’t bring it up for fear that he might let go, wondering if Otto simply didn’t notice. He gave no indication either way, so Alwin savored the contact, even when the heat of Otto’s hand leached the cold and damp from his.

It was well worth it.

Now, feet weary and hands still locked, they stood next to the stone well, Alwin’s heart lighter than he realized it could be. He had considered this place his prison once, but somewhere along the way it had become a home. One he cherished and protected.

He looked to Otto to see his reaction.

The first time they’d been together in this very spot, there had been nothing but fear and desperation in Otto’s eyes. He had been all pinched lines and staggered breaths.

Now, there was so much more.

“I didn’t notice the first time around,” Otto whispered.

“Notice what?” Alwin asked, matching his tone and creating a bubble around them.

Otto’s smile was the sun itself. “Just how beautiful this place is. It looks frozen in time.”

“I believe it might be. There is definitely some residual magic, though I’ve never been able to decipher what it is or what it’s supposed to be doing.”

“How do you know then?”

“Magic reacts to magic. Even when it’s not from the same source, I can feel it.”

“Oh,” Otto said, staring at Alwin with clear interest.

Alwin felt his skin prickle at how good it felt to be seen for anything other than the ugliness he carried on the outside. Anything other than the monster he was.

“Yes.” Alwin’s voice cracked slightly at how fast his heart was beating. “But here it all stems from the well.”

Otto’s eyes moved that way. “The fate of this castle…was it…?”

“Wishes can be dangerous. People bargain with more than they have for things they should fear instead of want,” Alwin said.

“Is that why you refuse people like Henne?”

“I’ve learned much being here. Most of all that not all things can be wished for, or should be. I try to be fair. To find those truly worthy or in need, but even I do not know if I make the right decisions.”

“That’s a heavier burden than I imagined,” Otto said softly. “How did you and the well come to be linked?”

Alwin’s eyes moved to the graves hidden behind the well, heart crying enough tears to make up for the ones that couldn’t fall. “I cannot say.”

“However it was, you guard it,” Otto ascertained.

Alwin looked back to him. “Yes.”

Otto glanced between his eyes for a while. “I want to ask so many more questions, but I know you cannot answer.”

Alwin smiled. “Answers will come eventually, I hope. Let’s rest and eat first, the journey was long.”

Alwin led the way into his home like he was touring a visiting noble around his castle grounds.

The dichotomy was strange, but not unwelcome.

He didn’t have expensive paintings or impressive sculptures to show off, but the sprawling ponds and wildlife were no less beautiful in his opinion. A different kind of beauty that was more difficult to discover, which made it all the more valuable in Alwin’s eyes.

All manner of frogs slipped from the water to welcome him home, their excited croaking creating a song that drew others until they could hardly place their feet for slippery bodies.

Otto laughed. “They seem pleased to see you.”

Alwin felt shy under his scrutiny, even if his ears rang with the truth of it. “I believe they are.”

“Your loyal subjects,” Otto teased, watching them cling to his clothes.

“My disorderly rabble,” Alwin corrected, looking down his nose at their happy faces, trying to be stern but failing, if Otto’s laugh was anything to go by.

“I wonder how they became so unruly. You clearly rule with an iron fist.”

Late , Jurgen ribbited deeper than everyone else from a nearby rock, looking unimpressed by Alwin’s entrance.

Alwin narrowed his eyes. “Hush, you.”

Jurgen blew up his throat sac rudely.

Alwin’s mouth dropped open, scandalized. “Jurgen!!”

Otto continued to laugh at his side, clutching his stomach, unable to hear the amphibian side of the conversation but clearly catching the gist of it. It was uninhibited and so lovely that Alwin found it hard to be even a little mad.

“I’m happy you find this so amusing,” he grumbled.

Please never stop laughing.

Otto squeezed his hand, making Alwin very aware that he was still holding it. “Quite amusing.” He grinned. “Please, don’t stop on my account.”

Alwin put his nose in the air to hide the fact that he was about to melt into the stonework. “Dinner,” he said, leading them through the chaos.

They reached the room Alwin took all his meals in—once a great dining hall, now only the ruin of half of one. Still, there was an ancient table and some larger stones Alwin had pushed into place long ago to act as chairs.

Alwin led them to the first seat and finally detached their hands, Otto’s fingers tightening around nothing as Alwin’s fingers slipped easily away. Otto frowned and looked up at him, as if asking why.

Alwin ignored the regretful but excited thump of his heart and rounded the table, taking the seat opposite him, back straight like he’d been taught since he was old enough to sit.

A few frogs dragged over what was left of Alwin’s personal tea set. Two chipped, porcelain teacups with golden filigree and a single saucer. It looked ridiculous.

“I can’t offer much, but the frogs can help us gather something,” he said, wishing he could give him the world.

He took a mental inventory of the things he had left to exchange for a good meal on short notice, but Otto beat him to it.

He placed his bag on the table and pulled out a few parcels wrapped in cloth. “This first. Gisela sent what food she could find with us, and I would hate for it to go to waste. So how about we finish this and you can organize our meals after that?”

Alwin could only nod, pushing down the urge to say no to that suggestion and show him he could provide.

“Good.” Otto unwrapped two slices of dark bread Alwin knew was made from bark, a wooden pot filled with steamed root vegetables, and a small pouch of roasted pumpkin seeds.

Otto spread the food on the table in front of them and motioned toward it. “Help yourself.”

Alwin reached for a slice of bread and some seeds, making sure he picked the smaller piece, leaving the bulk of it for Otto. Where he hesitated, as always, was in actually putting it in his mouth.

“You don’t have to hide every time you eat in front of me.”

Alwin burned with embarrassment. He hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious. “I hardly hide.”

“You turn your head or wait for me to turn mine,” Otto said.

“It’s bad manners to put other people off their food.” Alwin raised his chin.

Otto frowned heavily. “Why would I be put off?”

Alwin couldn’t answer, staring instead at the table between them. Otto’s hand appeared in front of him, palm up and beseeching.

“Please, don’t feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. You don’t find the way I eat disgusting, do you?”

Alwin’s head shot up. “Of course not.”

“Then this is no different.”

Alwin couldn’t explain the inner dilemma.

That he used to be human. That he found the way his frogs ate perfectly normal, but couldn’t accept it for himself.

Every day was a fight against a body he didn’t want, sometimes in awe of the things he could do, sometimes hating every difference so much he wanted to tear his skin off.

He slowly picked up the bread and tore a piece off.

He stared at it for a long moment, heart hammering in his chest and stomach rolling, before he placed it in his mouth.

He locked his head in place when it wanted to turn and swallowed with his eyes closed.

He knew how it looked—his eyes pressing down to force the food into his throat, the way his face compressed and squished.

When he opened his eyes again, it was to find Otto staring at him with wide blue eyes. Alwin fought against the shame as he watched the corners of Otto’s mouth curl, his cheek resting in his hand.

“Maybe you were right to hide it from me. I don’t want to eat anything—I want to feed you and watch you eat instead.”

It was so unexpected that Alwin nearly toppled from his chair. “That’s…that’s ridiculous.”

Otto put his other cheek in his other hand and leaned forward, staring intently. “Try it again and we can find out.”

“Absolutely not!”

Otto almost pouted. “But I like it. And you’ve been hiding it all this time.”

“Did you hit your head in the forest when I wasn’t looking?” Alwin asked, honestly concerned.

Otto laughed and drew back. “Fine. Have it your way.”

He began picking at the food nonchalantly, sneaking glances at him from time to time in a very obvious manner. Alwin couldn’t help but be amused by the lack of skill, even as his body still shook.

He ate a few more bites, his body not requiring that much to keep it going. Otto stared every time and Alwin didn’t turn away.

He tried to put it out of his mind, taking note of what Otto picked first and just how he ate his food. He’d always been so concerned with his own appearance that he hadn’t been able to observe.

A frown formed when he realized there was very little logic to Otto’s choices. He’d take a bite of bread, chase it down with a few seeds, pop some roots into his mouth, then munch on more seeds.

He took a breath to say something several times, but stopped himself because he didn’t really know how to bring it up politely.

“You’re the one staring now,” Otto said.

Alwin jerked his head down, pretending to be fascinated by his own food. “I was not.”

“Yes, you were.” Otto’s words sounded a bit sharp, even as the corners of his lips turned slightly upward in amusement. “Is it my clearly superior way of eating?”

Alwin hoped his non-eyebrows conveyed his dubiousness. “Superior?”