Page 48 of The Frog Prince (The GriMM Tales #6)

Epilogue

Alwin

“ D id you ever think the Frog Prince would return here to reign over such a nice pond?” Otto asked as they slipped behind the heavy green and gold curtain of the wooden pavilion that had been erected on the northern edge of the castle’s pond.

Half in and half out of the water, the curtain blocked all eyes, and the bowers and trees did the rest, making a shady, wholly secluded spot.

It was one of the first things his parents had ordered—a safe space just for him that no one else was allowed to enter, where he could shed the mask and be himself.

He’d overseen the construction, his opinions firm and detailed. He wanted what was to be his sanctuary to feel right. He wanted the familiar flowers, the scents he had grown used to, the sound of water, and the buzz of life.

Mere weeks had gone by, and he knew it could never replace the glen he had left, but he was coming to appreciate its own unique charms in a way he had never appreciated the palace in all his years growing up here.

So were others.

The place was starting to fill up. News had spread among the amphibian community that the Frog Prince had a new kingdom, and visitors hoping to relocate were arriving every day, most of them familiar faces.

He hadn’t wanted to tear them from their homes in the glen, hoping his legend would be enough to deter visitors and continue to protect them, but part of his heart couldn’t rest with them out of sight.

Alwin had shed a tear or two seeing them again, feeling absurd but validated when Otto didn’t laugh or jeer. Instead, he’d wiped the tears that were always quick to surface since his transformation with gentle fingers and asked for each and every name.

Alwin didn’t know how he had come to be so lucky that his curse had led to this.

He’d achieved all he wanted, including a replica of the old well. The original was still at the ruins, drained of magic with the breaking of the curse, now covered in moss and susceptible to the passage of time.

He had been saddened to see it despite its uninvited entrance into his life, the gaping hole in his head where the trickle of water used to run now a dried-up basin.

Until he had woken one night to a slow drip echoing in the back of his head.

Overcome, Alwin had sent a scout in the dead of night to visit the glen and check the well. The report back was solid and sure. The well was still empty of magic… but Alwin was not.

He had been torn between a form of comforting relief and daunting uncertainty of what this could mean.

The magic itself was weak, Alwin could feel that its depths were no longer enough to dive into. It was barely shallow enough to fill a bucket.

He found out the hard way when he’d tried to bargain a simple thing to test it.

The smallest of things. An orange in his hand for a piece of Otto’s favourite apple strudel.

It looked nearly identical to when he’d done it before.

The orange vanished. The sweet treat took its place.

But where it used to feel second nature, easy and flowing, it now left him struggling for breath and weak in the knees.

And without any outside research he somehow knew.

What the magic lacked it took from him. Because he had allowed for it before.

Traded pieces of himself until it seemed like he’d be willing to do it forever.

It left him incapacitated with a frantic Otto hovering over him, forbidding him from ever attempting something so reckless again.

He didn’t even eat his strudel and that left Alwin feeling a bit grumpy.

So it wasn’t what it once was, and Alwin did not know if it ever would be, but its presence wasn’t unwelcome anymore. It served as a reminder to Alwin of what good he had done with it and how he had shaped it as his own. And maybe, just maybe, what he could perhaps do with it in the future.

As he looked out at the new well, it was a reminder of that resolve.

“It wasn’t a pressing thought, no,” Alwin murmured, turning back and watching Otto settle his fur cloak more securely around his shoulders against the coming winter air.

A scrap of paper poked out of one of his pockets and Alwin tucked it in, noticing the words on it with a smile.

Otto had insisted on joining the court healers and working despite being told he had no need for it.

He shared his knowledge selflessly, noting down everything he had learned in the forest. About healing.

About plants. About the Blue Moons and how to use them to help.

Everything he knew went into those notes he hoped to turn into a book.

Everything but the location of the clearing in the forest. He wouldn’t put the elves in danger like that.

Alwin had asked if he thought it was a good idea to share that knowledge so freely. But Otto was adamant. People deserved help. And those who did not…the Blue Moons would take care of themselves. Alwin had fallen even deeper in love with his kindness, if that were even possible.

He looked up into his face, their breaths steaming out in front of them and the tip of Otto’s nose was wonderfully pinkened. Alwin ran his gloved finger across the bridge of his own nose, knowing he was smudging the makeup there.

A large hand slipped behind his cloak and splayed across his back, drawing his attention as Otto often did when Alwin got too fixated on his own appearance—offering a hand to help him out of the spiral before it started.

“What about the Frog King?” Otto asked, a teasing smile pulling at those full lips. Another thing Alwin thought would take eons to get used to.

Otto looking at him like he mattered.

Otto smiling at him like he was the best thing he had seen all day.

Otto wrapping his arms around him and kissing him and just being there, next to Alwin as he navigated life as the lost-but-finally-found prince.

Lending strength when Alwin grew tired. Acting as a shield when questions hit too close to home.

Deflecting when the subject cut Alwin deeper than his practiced smile could hide.

It would take an eternity for Alwin’s heart to stop stuttering every time Otto walked into a room. An eternity to stop losing his breath whenever he kissed him. And an eternity wouldn’t even begin to suffice for Alwin to stop shivering every time Otto told him he loved him.

Those magical words had given Alwin his life back.

“I don’t feel like a king.” Alwin shrugged one shoulder as he reached down to pluck a glove off one of his decidedly inhuman hands. “If anyone sees this…”

“Your coronation is in a few hours,” Otto said gently.

“You are a king, Alwin. Might as well accept it. And as for these…” Otto took Alwin’s uncovered hand in his and lifted it to his lips, placing a tiny kiss on the back of it.

“Is it weird that I’m somewhat glad nobody else can see them? ” Otto’s blue eyes sparkled.

“Why?” Alwin frowned. Gone was the doubt that Otto wanted him just as he was. The trail of love bites cascading down his back and the dull ache in his backside were testament to that. But he was still confused by his words.

“I am a selfish man sometimes,” Otto said, and Alwin scoffed. There wasn’t a selfish hair on that sun-kissed head. “I like that parts of you belong to me and me alone.”

“All of me is yours,” Alwin said, and Otto reached out to take his other hand.

“You are the ruler of a kingdom, my prince,” Otto said, and Alwin liked how the beloved nickname stayed, despite Alwin’s change in title.

When Alwin asked about it, Otto had said Alwin was a prince to him.

He had met and fallen in love with the Frog Prince, and he would always be that in Otto’s eyes.

A prince. “You belong to your people and your land and your ancestors. But this…these parts of you that remain from your past…these are all mine.”

“Forever,” Alwin said.

Otto smiled, nudging Alwin closer with his hand on his back until they were pressed together. “Beyond forever.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Human Alwin was about the same height as his young master, but Otto had bulk on him. Even now, with his muscles returned and his body mostly human again, Otto was twice his size, and it never failed to make Alwin feel safe and protected in his arms.

He pressed his face into Otto’s furred collar and sighed.

“I miss the glen, but I like it here,” Otto murmured.

Alwin hummed, turning his head slightly and casting his gaze across the pond over Otto’s shoulder. He spotted Jurgen on a far rock, observing the frogs splashing in the water cooly, and smiled, the action hidden by the fur.

“This place can be just as special,” Alwin said at last, feeling it in his heart—a warm contentment pushing all his nerves and fears aside. “I’m happy you suggested coming here so early.”

Otto ran a hand through his hair and Alwin’s eyelids fluttered.

It was one of the things he loved the most about having transformed back.

He would lie still for hours with his head in Otto’s lap, as Otto brushed his fingers through Alwin’s dark locks.

They had fallen asleep that way last night, Alwin too stressed.

It had been the only way to stop him from pacing a hole in the floor.

“I may have had another reason for bringing you here today,” Otto said after a time, and Alwin whipped his head up to meet his mischievous gaze. Otto tugged him by his naked hand, always choosing skin to skin contact when they were alone. “Come.”

He led the way to the edge of the pavilion where the wooden floor met the drop-off into the pond, directing him until Alwin was leaning against the chaise that had been put there for Otto.

Otto knelt in front of him and Alwin swallowed, his breath hitching.

“I have something for you,” Otto said, then he turned his head, whispering something Alwin couldn’t quite catch.