Howdy all! I've got all the plot lines in the air and I'm trying to juggle them all now. It's hard! When will they kiss? Will it be the answer? Where is the queen and when is the wedding? Who will Gabby choose? What about the war?
Some of these questions will be answered here. Others will take a little time. Read on!
During breakfast, Gabby looked at Will. It wasn’t just the regular my-eyeballs-are-resting-on-you kind of looking. She really looked.
What would it be like to kiss him? How different could it be?
His lips were thin as they made a wide arc across his face. Their color wouldn’t make a difference in how they felt, but even a brief comparison to normal human lips illuminated features that would make a kiss on his lips a little unpleasant. Without warmth or softness, Will’s lips had little to offer for kissing enjoyment, if that’s what kissing was supposed to be about.
That must be why Isabella thought the idea of a kiss was funny.
During her studies, though, she thought that maybe there might be something else about the kissing idea that she hadn’t considered.
They were studying Ovid’s Metamorphoses, which was an interesting, if not useless, complement to her research with Will. Everyone seemed to have been transformed by one of the gods or by merely wishing it. If wishing were enough to change Will back, she was pretty sure he would not have been a frog for long.
This started her thinking again about what Will might be like in human form. Were his human lips soft? She kept sneaking looks at him while her tutor was reading passages aloud, trying to imagine what his human lips would look like. The thought of Will having soft, warm lips distracted her so that she didn’t hear the tutor’s question.
“Princess Gabriella?” he said again.
Isabella poked her arm.
“Oh,” Gabby’s face took on the shade of a perfect strawberry. “I, um, could you ask me that again?” The tips of her ears tingled in synchrony with her red cheeks.
The tutor pinched his thin lips before repeating his question, “Why was it so important for Daphne to avoid Apollo?”
Gabby’s lips twitched involuntarily. “Um,” she stalled, glancing down at the manuscript in front of her, trying her best to decipher the Greek. The actual story was not very helpful, briefly describing Apollo’s amorous intentions and Daphne’s last second escape by transformation into a tree. Clearly, the tutor was trying to use some advanced analytical thinking tricks on her.
Isabella came to her rescue, “I think it’s because what Apollo wanted was a very personal thing to Daphne. It was something she was willing to give up everything to keep control of. Anyway, it could be that she loved someone else.”
A few of Isabella’s words reverberated in her still-burning ears, especially the word personal, and the idea that some things were worth giving up everything for. Although it was very apparent the story was about attempted rape, Gabby was struck by the idea that a kiss could be another such deeply personal thing. After all, it was powerful enough to break the curse on her grandmother.
She looked again at Will, laying flat on his belly with his chin resting on the top of his hands as he stared off into space. Perhaps what she wanted to try that afternoon was a powerful antidote after all. Fluttering tickled her insides.
“Ahem,” said the tutor. He was wearing an even deeper frown as he peered over at her..
“Yes, um,” Gabby said, “I think that Isabella is right. Apollo had no right to take from Daphne what was only hers to give. Daphne had to run away because she wouldn’t be able to win if she stayed to fight.”
Under their noses, Will let out a sigh. “Sounds like the story of my life,” he muttered. No one heard him. He spent the rest of the morning pondering the truth that if the god Apollo couldn’t get the girl, there was no chance at all for him.
Yesterday while he researched with Gabby, they’d found the story of Sleeping Beauty. It hadn’t been a magic handshake that had woken her, it had been the very thing that Lance obsessed over more than girls: kissing (which could be considered just a subset of girls, as it was something he did with girls, but based on the allocation of Lance’s brainpower toward it, kissing deserved its own listing).
Around age thirteen, Lance had discovered the sport of kissing and it had quickly leapt to the top of his list of favorite activities, surpassed only by eating and hunting. Witnessing the fuzzy-brained aftermath, Will had decided to give it a shot as well. Lance made it sound completely awesome and easy to boot.
After his first lame experience, Lance gave him some pointers and sent him off to try again with someone else. The awesomeness eluded him through at least three more girls before Will decided to give it up before he made any more female enemies. Clearly there was something else he was missing.
Listening to Gabby read the story of Sleeping Beauty aloud in her soft, lilting accent, he finally understood why he never enjoyed kissing those girls and why kissing Gabby would leave him breathless with or without a transformation at the end.
He’d tried to respond to her suggestion about adding ‘kissing’ to their list, but for a long time he couldn’t decide what to say about it. One kiss had changed everything for this Aurora lady and it could change everything for him, but he wasn’t sure he wanted it to. As soon as he was human again, he would have no reason to stay. Besides that, what was his humanity worth when he would still have to walk away knowing Gabriella was married someone else?
Yet, he could still get a kiss if he wanted one, and he wanted it.
Indecision left his brain and heart warring, spinning around in fierce circles until he no longer remembered the pros and cons, only that it would be a serious thing for him to kiss Princess Gabriella Persephone Almondine Jane.
Thus, Gabby had finally given up trying to get an answer from him and had read a book about history until dinner.
After Greek, they all headed toward the ballroom for more dancing lessons. Gabby didn’t really need them anymore. Since tapping into her reservoir of confidence, she had evolved into a stunning dancer, even outshining Isabella’s gentle grace on the dance floor. As for Acantha, well, there was absolutely no comparison any more.
Rounding a corner too quickly, Isabella nearly careened into Seniore Machiavelli.
“Oh! Sorry!” she said.
He bowed deeply. “Oh, no my lady. It is I who should be sorry.”
“You were lurking again,” said Will. “You deserved it.”
Niccolo’s lips twitched as he looked down at Will. “You mood does not seem to have improved over the last few weeks.” He looked up at Princess Gabby. “Your frog has been out of sorts. I do hope he gets over it soon before his tongue lashings begin to leave physical marks.”
She raised her chin, “Yes. We’re working on it.”
He looked over at her shrewdly, measuring his words, “No, you’re working on a problem, but I think you’ve missed the mark.”
“Okay,” said Will. “Time to get going. We don’t want to be late.”
“What do you mean?”
This time, Isabella stepped in, “Really, Signore, we have to be going now.” She gently put her arm through Gabby’s and began leading her away.
“As you wish,” said Niccolo, sweeping into another low bow. He winked at Will as he passed, speaking in an undertone “We wouldn’t want Princess Gabriella to become confused about where her loyalties lie.”
Will harrumphed as he continued past, but there were two sentiments wrestling in his chest: relief that his secret was safe, and disappointment that his secret was safe. Either way, he was sure Niccolo was doing this just to taunt him.
“Oh, Princess,” called Niccolo to their backs.
Gabby stopped and turned toward him. “Yes?”
“I thought you should know that I received a letter from the Duke of Urbino.” He paused, relishing the avid attention of his audience. “The weather has been mild this winter and he looks forward to starting his journey next week. Weather permitting, you will meet your future husband in two weeks.”
“Oh,” she said, a faint rosy glow blooming on her face. “That is soon.”
“Yes. Very soon, but long enough to tie up some loose ends, I think.” Now he was looking down at Will.
“Yes,” she said, but a little more quiet. “Yes.”
“Well, Princess,” he said bowing for a third time, “Do not let me keep you any longer. Enjoy the rest of your day and this fine weather.” He looked smug as he swiveled around the corner. “I know I intend to.”
Will really wanted to punch that guy.
That morning, Gabby’s dancing seemed slightly out of step. She was doing the correct movements, but always as though her mind were somewhere else. Disappointment paraded clearly across the instructor’s face, as he had come to relish dancing with the energetic princess every morning.
“Well,” he finally said, “I suppose it’s time to finish up.”
Gabby’s arms immediately dropped to her sides. “Yes. It’s time for lunch I suppose.” She gave a perfunctory curtsey, “Thank you,” then walked out into the hall, Isabella, Acantha, and Will trailing after her in surprise.
She couldn’t decide how she felt about the news Niccolo had given her, nor could she decipher his cryptic message about missing the mark. Excitement wouldn’t quite describe her emotions, more like expectancy, dread, and relief and seething together in a chaotic pool.
In two weeks, she would know her fate, whether her husband would be handsome or even minimally likeable. The time stretched out in front of her, eternally long and unbelievably short. Two short weeks seemed so long.
By the end of two weeks, her life would bear little resemblance to the life she’d known. They would have the engagement ceremony right away and then begin preparations for the wedding. Although she wouldn’t be actually married yet, she would be considered legally bound to this man for the rest of their lives. Isabella would leave for her own wedding and Will—
The muscles in her shoulders tightened at the thought of Will disappearing too. It was silly and she knew it. Of course Will would go. He would be excited to finally return home, claim his throne and one day have a family of his own, if they were able to get him back to human form at least.
He’d never mentioned anything of the sort, but she wondered if he were betrothed. Most noble girls her age had been betrothed years ago. Boys were usually a little older, but not much.
Gabby gave her head a shake as if to clear that thought away.
No, there was no need to think about that. What she needed to focus on now was helping Will and preparing in case her future spouse was going to make happiness difficult.
There was also the matter of the impending war. It hung over her head like a heavy fog, blaming her for her role. Her marriage, the event entwined with a guilty hope, would bring destruction to the innocent. There seemed little she could do to get out of it, which gave her a sort of sheepish gratitude.
Once again, the idea of kissing Will that afternoon tugged at her. Heart beating fast, she thought that maybe it didn’t have to be that afternoon. Will hadn’t shown any inclination for it, so maybe she would wait to see if any of the other possibilities worked. The tragedy of Daphne and Apollo hung before her and she determined that she would not force anything so intimate as a kiss onto Will.
Then again, maybe it would be better to get it over with.
Her heart began pattering even faster.
Will was sedate, almost lethargic as he hopped down the corridor toward her chambers. It certainly wasn’t the body language of a frog who was looking forward to a kiss. Not renewing the idea of a kiss wasn’t giving in to fear exactly, she told herself. She would ask him again eventually… if nothing else worked.
The anticipation kept zinging up and down her spine, though, and she worried she might lose her senses if she could not rediscover her imperviousness to the thought of a kiss soon.
During lunch, she decided that the question might be raised again, just to be sure Will didn’t want to. There was no harm in that. Maybe he had changed his mind.
“So, Will,” she said, interrupting whatever thoughts he was enjoying. “Do you want to…um….?”
The room was very quiet and she could hear the first of the spring birds outside her window calling out to each other. Every other living thing seemed to be listening to ever word.
Her mouth went dry and she delayed by taking a sip of water with a shaky hand.
Will looked up at her without blinking, which wasn’t unusual, but it was unnerving under the circumstances.
“Um… I was thinking that, uh, I don’t have anything scheduled this afternoon, we could, um…”
Is anyone in this room breathing but me? The stillness tickled her ears and felt sticky on her skin. Even Acantha’s embroidery needle was still.
“Yeah?” asked Will.
“Uh, just thought we could do some…research,” she finished. Coward.
He raised his eyebrows. “I thought we were already going to do that.”
“Oh, yeah, um, well, I was just making sure.” The tympanic pounding of her heart was deafening as time edged further away from her near miss.
“Yup. I was planning on it.”
“Good, good,” she said, her voice trailing off as she turned her head toward the window. It was a beautiful stained glass scene depicting the coronation of some king in vivid colors.
She jumped up, “Anyone else want some air? It’s so stuffy in here.”
Behind her, Isabella was staring at her with a mixture of sad wistfulness.
Unlatching the window, she pushed it outward and stuck her head out. The early spring sunshine glittered weakly in its returning potency and a cool breeze lifted a few curls from her face. It was just the view she needed to refocus and arm-wrestle her perspective back into place.
Looking down, the stone walkway underneath her window seemed so far away. There were a few shrubberies with the first hints of spring leaves on either side. They were each carefully pruned into geometric shapes and lined a large stone patio often used as a reception area for garden parties. She focused, trying to remember what kind of plants they were. It was better to focus on something harmless if she was going to face Will and her ladies-in-waiting again.
In the distance, she could see the even, measured patterns of gravel walkways marching between evenly spaced trees that stood as sentinels over the ordered gardens. In the distance, near the pond, her beloved rose bushes were being pruned for the spring months, shaped into neat boxes that would soon be thick with green, thorns, and soft petals.
Somewhere, out of sight from the ordered greenery was a hothouse and the kitchen gardens, the only truly useful cultivation she could see. Gabby felt a pang of something—regret or longing, she wasn’t sure, except that she knew she would never have been allowed into that garden. Nothing would stop her from going there now, if she wished it.
If she could charge through the fields riding Liberazione astride like a man, tell her father what she thought, and face life without Claudio, why was it so difficult to ask Will for a simple kiss? It was for Will’s good, after all.
Will surprised her by landing next to her elbow on the windowsill. “It looks like spring is coming.” He sniffed, “Smells like it too.”
She smiled, “What does spring smell like exactly?”
“Dirt, I think.” He sniffed again, “And melting ice.”
As she looked down at him, she felt something powerful, warm, and large spill into her. It would be some time before she would be able to identify the sensation, only that it brought the thought that she could never force something on Will that he did not want.
Calmer now, she turned away from the window. She could wait.
“Shall we get the books?”
Will opened his mouth as if to say something, changed his mind and closed it. Then he opened it again, “Yeah, I guess.”
An hour passed in which they discovered the stories of Cinderella and Snow White. Acantha had disappeared at some point, but Isabella remained, listening and smiling to herself as she embroidered.
The story of Cinderella did involve a fairy godmother and a small shoe. However, Gabby was able to refute that the godmother and shoe would be helpful here.
“Even if there were a transformation here—aside from rags to riches,” she waved her hand dismissively, “My feet are very normal sized and you saw the response from my godmother.”
“Yeah, my eyes are still burning. Do you think she really would do that?”
“Don’t let her hear you questioning her sincerity. She’d follow through just for spite.”
“Okay, I’ll let you cross it off the list.”
Gabby picked up the quill and scratched through the items ‘Find fairy godmother’ and ‘small shoes?’
Then they read on. Snow White sounded like such a lovely, useless girl to Gabby, but it was the end that left them in silence once again.
Staring up at them from the page, the words scrawled in thick black ink, were the scrawling words, “The prince kissed Snow White and she immediately opened her eyes.”
“Huh,” said Gabby. She wondered if she should suggest it one more time, what with this new story right in front of them.
Will, however, wasn’t moving again, which tightened her resolve to let Will decide if he ever wanted a kiss. There was no guarantee it would actually transform him anyway.
The reason he wasn’t moving, though, was because his mind had begun whirring again. Visions of Gabriella’s lips meeting his cold, thin ones mocked him. His heart spluttered, and he was incredulous that there wasn’t a magic handshake anywhere in these books.
Looking up at her face, he wanted to kiss her so badly that his lips started moving without his brain’s permission.
He wasn’t sure what exactly came out and—not suspecting that she was looking for any indication he would accept a kiss—not sure how on earth Gabby understood it.
What Gabby heard was the stiff sentence; “We could try a kiss if you want.”
Thus, it was that she found herself reliving the last few months as she stared into Will’s eyes. How on earth did I get here? I can’t believe I’m actually going to kiss a frog. The world around her had tilted so much since he’d come that it was only a short distance—two inches to be exact—from being completely turned upside down. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she thought about it.
Will stared at her as she blushed in front of him, worried that she would find him too repulsive and chicken out, worried that he would be turned human again, and worried that he might not. Time slowed down and he felt tingling on his skin where he rested on her outstretched palm. Every day that had passed since escaping from his stepmother had seemed to march inexorably toward eventual death in the hands of a careless boy, but perhaps it was really leading him here, to this moment with Gabby.
Inching her hand nearer to her face, he could feel the air shimmering with her nearby heartbeat, it fluttered in harmony with his. Now he was one inch away.
Now half an inch.
Closer. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
Gabby closed her eyes.
Will closed his eyes.
Their lips met, human and frog, warm and cold-blooded in one space.
It seemed to both that a firecracker had gone off somewhere behind their sternum and they knew that nothing would be the same.
And there you have it. We've now made full circle back to the beginning scene of the book. But wait, there's more! What does Will look like now? Is he the hottie (with a twelve pack!) you're imagining or is he still green? Most importantly, what about Gabby's marriage and the war?
Stay tuned... :D