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“I had my own thoughts,” Ari assured her solemnly. “I can’t speak to how intelligent they were, but that issue predated being turned into a swan.”
“You’re not hard to pick out of the line up at all. Your nieces and nephews can easily remember you—they just need to call you The Uncle Who Can’t Land a Wife.”
“Spare my sensibilities, I beg of you,” Ari said in mock horror. “I shan’t,” Violet informed him brutally.
“Why are we outside?” he asked. “I thought you were showing me around the castle.” Violet waved a careless hand at the stone building behind her. “There it is. It’s very nice, we like it.”
He wasn’t sure whether he was attracted to her, or just fascinated by her. But he did know that he wanted to find out more.
Violet felt her face warm with pleasure. “I’m not that extraordinary.” “Yes you are,” said Ari simply. “Or you are to me, anyway. No one else has ever made me feel quite like I do when I’m in your company.” He sent her a swift grin. “You certainly keep me guessing, anyway.”
He couldn’t possibly have survived six years as a swan only to be turned into a pond frog by an accident of a group of untrained students. No one person could be that unlucky.
“You’re not as slimy as I expected,” she commented, pulling the pocket open so she could peer in at it. “Smooth, but actually quite pleasant to the touch. My congratulations on your cleanliness.”
No doubt they all considered her to be languishing under a broken heart. What nonsense. Mostly.
“The frog is back, everybody, no need to panic.” “Oh good, we’ll stop lying awake in concern,” muttered one of the other princesses sarcastically.
“Ari, this is too ridiculous,” said Wren, sounding impatient more than anything. “First a swan, then this? How in dragon’s flame did you get yourself turned into a frog?” He shrugged. “I just felt like a change. Too long as a human, you know.”
It always felt like a victory, getting her to laugh. And after all, he’d much rather his story be entertaining than tragic.
Obsidian groaned again. “Foolish old superstitions,” he said. “Why is everyone so convinced that kisses have some kind of potent magical properties? They’re entirely ordinary.” “As your wife, I take offense at that,” interjected Zinnia.
“I fought in the war,” he said, his eyes passing from Lex to Yannick. “And I lost someone very dear to me. You’re not the only ones who suffered from the conflict. Far from it. But you’d rather pretend no one understands your pain, because it’s easier than admitting that there’s another way to respond. That you could choose to forgive and move forward. Instead you’re choosing anger and violence. The very things we all hated about the war.”
“It’s good to see that the misadventures of the past few days haven’t changed you, Violet,” he said in a mock solemn tone. “You’re just as eager to propose to me as ever. You Entolians sure know how to make a man feel welcome.”
