The Wicked Witch's Prince Page 2

  “You... do?”

  “Yes!” Nervous laughter bubbled up from his throat. “I would have never run away like that! Not intentionally! Donnabella made me look like an arse!”

  “You did look like an arse!” agreed a giggling Cinda. When she looked down at their interlocked fingers, her heart raced, and her cheeks were singed by nervous heat. “So... what now?” she whispered.

  “I'm not sure,” Fenix sighed. “As long as Donnabella's curse is in effect, there's really nothing I can do. My hands are tied. I couldn't even kiss you if I wanted to.”

  “Would you want to kiss me... if you could?” Cinda whispered the question while studying Sharman's statue.

  “Of course.”

  Fenix's answer crushed her heart. She had feelings for a man who, because of his curse, could only ever recoil from her kisses. No matter how much he wanted his lips on hers—and no matter how much she wanted her lips on his—it could never happen. Donnabella's curse put an impassable gulf between them.

  “Well, for what it's worth...” Cinda paused to sigh. “I wish I could kiss you too, Fenix.”

  Until the curse was lifted, her mind would replay the memory of their first and only kiss.

  * * *

  “So... how are you enjoying life as a frog, Your Highness?” Sultry chuckles crawled up Donnabella's throat as she removed Sharman from her pocket and placed him in the palm of her hand. “You've been a frog for a few minutes now. What do you think?”

  When she leaned closer to his face, Frog Sharman slapped her chin with his obscenely long tongue.

  The witch leaned back with a giggle. “Was that supposed to be a kiss, Sharman?” Donnabella asked. “Aww. I'm sorry. That's not the way you break the curse, Your Highness. A woman must kiss you, not the other way around.”

  The frog prince narrowed his round, glassy eyes.

  “You understand the situation, right? You'll be stuck in that form until you find a young lady who's foolish enough to kiss a frog. How do you think you'll find someone like that? Hmm? An asylum for the insane, perhaps? That's probably your best bet.”

  Sharman stuck out his tongue again, but it didn't quite reach her.

  “I should have made you a toad.” The grinning witch carried him in her palm as she strolled through the garden. “They're quite a bit uglier, in my opinion. The warts make them so unpleasant. You're so vain, it might have taught you a lesson. Unfortunately, as a frog, you're actually quite... cute.”

  When Sharman tried to reply, he ribbited.

  “Are you trying to speak? It's a shame I don't know what's on your mind, dear.” Donnabella puckered her lips and leaned over his head, teasing him with the prospect of a kiss. “Should I kiss you? What do you think, Your Highness? Should I put you out of your misery, or--”

  Donnabella's voice trailed off when she heard voices in the garden. She dropped Sharman into her pocket, crouched behind a wall of rosebushes, and slowly crept forward. To ensure she would never be spotted, she whispered an invisibility spell.

  “I said... I had feelings for you,” the female voice said.

  When she realized it was Cinderella, Donnabella extracted Sharman and held him up, letting him watch his fiance's rendezvous.

  “I know! And I have feelings for you too! I do! Very strong feelings, in fact.”

  Donnabella's jaw twitched when she saw Fenix reaching for Cinda's hand. When she looked down at the frog in her palm, his throat was bulging. She had a feeling he was just as disappointed as she was.

  “I like you a lot, Cinderella,” Fenix said.

  “You... do?”

  “Yes!” Nervous laughter bubbled up from his throat. “I never would have run away like that! Not intentionally! Donnabella made me look like an arse!”

  “You are an arse...” Donnabella whispered to herself. “Cheating on me with the prince's fiance? That's very naughty of you, Fenix.”

  Prince Sharman's big eyes bulged as he listened to their discussion. Until that moment, he was completely oblivious to his fiance's interest in another man.

  “It hurts, doesn't it?” Donnabella whispered to the frog in her hand. As the lovers discussed their desire to kiss, the witch lightly stroked the frog's head. “I feel your pain, Sharman. Believe me, I do. How should we punish them? We should punish them, right?” She swore she saw the little frog nod his head. “Let me think...”

  When Cinderella and Fenix embraced, Sharman croaked in disapproval. Tears filled his goggle-like eyes as he watched the affectionate exchange.

  “I think I need to send Cinderella far, far away,” the witch whispered. “That wouldn't really benefit you, but it would benefit me. If she was out of sight, Fenix would eventually stop thinking about the girl.”

  Donnabella raised a finger and whispered the appropriate spell. “Itinerantus dissipatia.” A tiny green light appeared on the tip of her finger, and when she flicked her hand, a ball of light raced toward Cinda.

  But Donnabella's hands were shaking with rage, so it was a poorly aimed spell. Instead of hitting Cinda, it hit Prince Sharman's statue instead.

  The green ball ricocheted backward—and struck Donnabella.

  “So... remind me again... why are we attacking Prince Sharman's Winter Palace?”

  The question was asked by King Orun's head knight, the dashing Sir Soren. His hair, which was usually long, blonde, and glorious, was scraggly and dripping with sweat. Soren expected chillier weather at the “Winter” Palace, so he had foolishly worn his heaviest armor. From head to toe, the head knight's body was moist with perspiration.

  “Because, Soren, Prince Sharman insulted my son,” King Orun replied, turning to the teenage boy who stood beside him. “Gideon, why don't you tell Sir Soren why we're here?”

  “Prince Sharman is a fool!” declared the young Prince Gideon, whose eyes were wild as he watched his soldiers assemble in front of the Winter Palace. The crunch of their boots marching in unison was music to his ears. “As a favor to Sharman, I traveled all the way here to kiss his sister. I was being very generous with my time, so I expected a warm greeting. Instead, he called me a brat and shoved me down the hallway!”

  “That, uh...” As he spoke, Soren used his sodden handkerchief to dab his slick forehead. He had swiped his sweat so many times, the cloth in his hand was already soggy. “That was wrong of him, Your Highness. But is it worth starting a war over an insult?”

  “Yes!” Gideon's voice squeaked. The blight of puberty often made his voice go sharp. “I need to put that stupid prince in his place! In fact... you should mind your place, Soren! You have no right to question me!”

  King Orun nodded in agreement. The bearded king rarely found fault with the whims of his spoiled son.

  “So... fire the first catapult!” Gideon demanded. “Let them know we've arrived!”

  * * *

  Princess Rose was in such a deep sleep, she didn't stir when the first boulder struck the Winter Palace. Even when her lover tried to nudge her awake, the slumbering princess refused to budge. In fact, she was so difficult to rouse, Tye feared she was cursed again.

  As he continuously tapped his lover's arm, the stable boy whispered to himself, “I swear to God, if Prince Elliot has to kiss you again, I--”

  When a second boulder rattled the palace's foundation, Princess Rose suddenly sat up with a gasp. “What's going on?” she shrilled. “Are we under attack?”

  “That... is a frightening possibility,” her lover replied. Tye slid from Rose's bed and shuffled to the window. He was in the middle of a yawn when he spotted the sea of soldiers that had amassed around the Winter Palace. As his lips snapped open, he whispered, “Oh dear...”

  Rose urged him to continue. “Oh dear... what?”

  “Um, I believe we are under attack,” Tye reported as calmly as possible. “Yes... in fact... I should probably move away from the window.”

  As soon as Tye backed away, three fiery arrows whistled into Rose's open window.

  “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah
!” Rose's scream shook the palace walls nearly as much as the boulders that struck it. As her carpet ignited, she shrieked, “Aaaaaaaah! Put it out, Tye! Put out the fire!”

  The stable boy quickly seized a blanket from Rose's bed and used it to knock out the flames. Rose's panic barely subsided before a pair of Sharman's knights burst into her bedchamber.

  “Are you alright, Your Highness?” asked a bald, husky knight.

  “Y-yes, Sir Horace, I'm fine.” Rose, who was wearing her nightgown, shoved her arms through the sleeves of a robe. “They sent arrows through my window, though! Fire arrows! I don't know if I should stay here!”

  “Probably not, Your Highness.” Horace draped an arm around Rose's slender shoulders and gently steered her from the bedroom. “Perhaps you would be safer in the hall?”

  “Who's attacking?” Rose practically screamed the question as Horace led her out.

  “King Orun and his son, Prince Gideon,” the knight gruffly replied.

  “Why are they attacking?”

  “I haven't the slightest idea, I'm afraid.”

  “Where is my brother?” Rose whined. “How is he handling this?”

  “He, uh...” Horace exchanged nervous glances with Tye, who was trailing behind them. “Uhh... th-that's the thing, Your Highness. I'm afraid we cannot locate your brother.”

  “Whaaaat?” Rose's shout echoed down the palace's many narrow corridors. “How can you not find him? Isn't he in his room?”

  “I'm afraid not, Your Highness.”

  “Is he in the garden? I bet he's in the garden!” Rose surmised. “He likes to gaze at that stupid statue of his!”

  “He's... he's not in the garden, Your Grace,” Horace quietly reported. “We already checked.”

  “Is he having breakfast?”

  “No.”

  “Is he in the library?”

  When Horace shook his head, his double chin wagged. “No, my lady.”

  “Perhaps he's in Cinderella's room?” Rose suggested as she charged down the hall. “Have you checked?”

  “Uh... no, Your Highness. We haven't.”

  “If there are rooms that haven't been checked, you aren't trying hard enough! Search the entire palace, Horace! My brother must be somewhere!” When Rose arrived at Cinda's room, she raised a fist and pounded on the door. Her knock was so urgent, Cinda opened the door less than three seconds later.

  “Rose!” Cinderella exclaimed. “Are we under attack? What's going o--”

  Rose interrupted. “I don't believe you were ever on a first name basis with me, Cinderella.” The princess' nostrils flared as she lectured her brother's fiance. “Until you're officially Sharman's wife, you will address me as Your Highness, Your Grace, or at the very least, my lady. Propriety is important.”

  For several seconds, Cinderella was silent. She was a bit taken aback by Rose's reprimand. “V-very well... Your Highness...” Cinda could feel her eyes narrowing as she corrected herself. “Can you fill me in on the situation?”

  “We're under attack by Prince Gideon and King Orun.” As she shared her limited knowledge, Rose shoved Cinderella aside and stuck her head into the young woman's bedchamber. “Is my brother in here?”

  “No. Of course he isn't.”

  “Of course he isn't,” Rose repeated Cinda's words with a roll of her eyes. “Well, do you have any idea where he is?”

  Cinderella regretfully shook her head.

  “Well then... you were useless, weren't you? What about that stepsister of yours? I've seen my brother gazing at her over tea. I've long suspected they fancy each other, so...” Rose charged down the hall and pounded on Terra's door.

  Cinderella's eyelashes fluttered as she followed Rose. “You think Terra and Sharman fancy each other?”

  “Absolutely. My brother admires women with intellect... at least, he used to... until he met you.” Rose sneered in Cinda's direction. “Your stepsister might not be pretty, but she's the sort of woman he used to like.”

  Cinda's mouth gaped with disbelief as they waited for Terra to answer the door. She always knew Rose didn't like her, but Sharman's sister was rarely so transparent with her contempt.

  Behind the door, they heard a voice hiss, “Rank, don't you dare open the door! Don't you dare--”

  When Rank threw open her stepsister's door, Cinda's jaw dropped even further. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, his breeches were untied, and his hair was even more disheveled than usual. His smirk suggested he was hiding a secret.

  “Hello there, Sweeping Beauty. Sleeping Beauty.” As he greeted them, Rank unwrapped a peppermint stick. “Is the palace in a bit of a pinch today?”

  “Yes. We're under attack!” Rose shoved him aside and checked Terra's room. “Sharman isn't in here?”

  “No. Why would Princey be here, of all places?” As he replied, Rank's peppermint stick wobbled in the corner of his mouth.

  Cinda spoke next. “Why are you here, Rank? Are you... are you and Terra...?”

  Terra grabbed her crutches and hurried to the door. She was so desperate to correct her stepsister, she almost lost her balance along the way. “No, Cinda! It... it isn't what it looks like! Rank and I... he... he just sleeps on the floor!”

  Under her breath, a doubtful Rose whispered, “Right... suuure.” The princess had little interest in the stepsisters' drama, so she changed the subject. “Do either of you have any idea where my brother might be?”

  As both young ladies solemnly shook their heads, Horace returned with an update. “Your Highness, I'm afraid we can't find your brother anywhere. Without Prince Sharman, the knights now look to you for guidance.”

  “M-me?” Rose lightly touched her cheek, which was drained of color. The princess had paled at the news of Sharman's absence.

  “Indeed, Your Highness. What are your orders?”

  “Orders? Uh... umm...” In the corner of her eye, she could see Rank smirking at her, so she made a mental note to have him flogged. “I think we should... um... attempt to negotiate?”

  Another boulder banged the Winter Palace as Rose deliberated. The dragon's attack and Gideon's catapults had crippled them immensely.

  “Put up a white flag, Horace,” Rose requested. “Let King Orun and Prince Gideon know we have no desire to retaliate.”

  “Are you sure, my lady?” the bald knight asked.

  “Yes. I have no interest in wars and battles,” Rose answered with a toss of her hair. “I just want this unpleasantness to be over as soon as possible! Oh! And if they're willing to accept our surrender, have them join me in the drawing room for tea and biscuits. No one can talk about warring when they're sipping tea, right?”

  When Horace left to pass along her orders, Rose returned to her bedchamber, where she sat as far from the window as she possibly could. Her handmaidens dressed her, primped her hair, and applied the appropriate cosmetics. She checked the looking glass countless times before she was satisfied with her appearance. Her auburn hair was regally arranged, her lips were as red as berries, and her neckline was enhanced by a string of obscenely sized pearls.

  When she finally entered the drawing room, Orun and Gideon were already waiting for her.

  “Princess!” Prince Gideon greeted her with a smile, as if he hadn't punched holes into her palace. “How are you?

  “I'm quite well, thank you.” Rose sat down and crossed her legs.

  “The last time I saw you, you were sleeping. It's good to see you awake. You're even prettier with your eyes open,” the pubescent prince observed. “I was afraid you might be cursed forever.”

  “That would have been terrible,” Rose said. “Fortunately, Prince Elliot came to my aid.”

  “Ah... right. How is Prince Elliot? I haven't seen him in some time. You two are supposed to be married, yes?” Gideon asked.

  “No,” Rose quickly corrected him, then she claimed a cup of tea. When she brought it to her lips, her rouge lipstick stamped a stain on the porcelain. “I'm not marrying Elliot.”

  “
Why not?”

  Rose sneered at the prince, whose white armor was so polished, she had to shield her eyes from its sheen. “I don't like him. Is that not a good enough reason?”

  “Why wouldn't you like him?” Gideon defended his fellow prince. “Everyone likes Prince Elliot. In my country, they call him Prince Charming.”

  Rose took another sip of tea, leaving a second red stain on her cup. “Stop talking about Prince Elliot, Gideon! You're avoiding the issue,” Rose snapped. “You attacked my brother's palace. Why? Did you have a reason?”

  Gideon exchanged glances with his father, who gave him an approving nod. “I attacked the Winter Palace because your brother insulted me, Princess Rose,” the young prince explained. “Furthermore... if you're not putting up a fight, you should probably know... the palace is mine now.”

  “What?” Rose squeaked as she leapt from her chair. “You can't just take the Winter Palace!”

  “Oh, but I can. And I already have.” Gideon nibbled a biscuit as he shared the news. “Right now, my knights are pouring into the Winter Palace's hallways... and since you told your men to stand down, I doubt there will be any resistance.”

  “King Orun!” Rose addressed the prince's father with a gasp. “Surely this isn't what you intend? When my brother returns, he'll--”

  Gideon interrupted. “When your brother returns, I'll have his head on a pike. And it will be much better to look at than that stupid statue in your garden. My god, that thing is an eyesore!” As he rose from his seat, Gideon smacked biscuit crumbs from his shirt.

  “King Orun!” Rose tried again, sinking to her knees in front of the portly king. If getting on hands and knees didn't convince him of her desperation, nothing would. “You aren't really doing this, are you? You aren't really taking the palace?”

  Orun tried to run a hand through his beard, but he gave up when his fingers hit a snag. Clearing his throat, he replied, “Personally, I don't want to take the Winter Palace... but my son does, and Gideon gets what Gideon wants.”