Chapter 18
JACOB
HOHENZOLLERN CASTLE
Jacob Grimm,
Your presence is needed. I sent my son to ask Prince Hermann for his daughter’s hand in marriage, but I received a letter from Prince Hermann telling me his daughter chanced upon a frog at her pond. She claims it is my son. I have no idea what this folly is about so I leave you this task.
Find my foolhardy son. Tell him to stop this nonsense and agree to marry this girl, or suffer the consequences.
~ King Frederick of Württemberg
The ride to the castle is grueling for Wilhelm, Rumpelstiltskin, and me, and my muscles ache, so it’s a relief when my eyes finally land on Prince Hermann’s home.
Perched high on a mountain peak, Hohenzollern Castle rises before us with its towers and battlements cloaked in a swirl of mist. I’m eager to get the task finished, edgy from being taken from our hunt for the leader of these werewolves.
The only consolation is that I’m hoping to spend some time in the prince’s library. It’s supposed to be the most prestigious in the land. Perhaps it may tell us something about our Enchantress. I clutch the letter from King Frederick, requesting our services, as I dismount my horse.
The palace gates slam behind us as Wilhelm, Rumpelstiltskin, and I step inside a corridor with a ribbed arched ceiling that soars above us. Torches are set into the walls, flickering like dragons’ tongues on the flagstone floor. The air is cool, heavy with a musty scent.
“Being dragged along is what I am,” Rumpelstiltskin grumbles. “Hate this place. Reeks is what. Or maybe it’s just our escort.”
I fight to keep my lips pressed together as the servant escorting us halts to glare at Rumpelstiltskin, who smiles toothlessly back at him.
“What do you make of this frog business?” Wilhelm whispers in my ear. “Do you think the prince really turned into a frog?”
“Hardly,” I say. “The princess is probably being difficult. I heard she’s immensely spoiled. As for Prince William, he’s probably in the woods with his dogs having an entertaining hunt.”
A lingering chill clings to the stone hallways, even with the tapestries and banners. The corridor stretches ahead, and its checkered floors echo our every step. Antlers line the walls, each mounted above a small plaque like silent trophies.
“Your prince is quite the hunter,” I point out to the servant.
“Prince Hermann is a great hunter, well-feared for his fighting prowess,” the servant agrees before a set of doors. “The prince waits for you in his throne room.”
I’ve no idea what to expect from this prince. My only hope is that we can find Prince William quickly and get back to Honau by nightfall.
A pair of waiting guards opens the entrance. I draw back my shoulders and set my jaw. You can do this, I tell myself, and then march into the room, head held high as if I’m royalty myself.
Prince Hermann lounges in a large wooden chair.
His white wig tilts askew on his head, and the rolled curls that are supposed to be tucked under look frayed.
His tired eyes shoot us a fleeting glance, and he gives an indifferent sniff with his long nose, which seems to pull his whole face into a frown.
His skin is pallid like he rarely sees the light of day.
“The great hunter, eh?” Rumpelstiltskin mutters. “More like a sniveling rodent.”
I crack a smile, but say, “Not so loud.”
Beside him must be his wife. She straightens in her chair as we enter. Her wig is elaborate, and her face is powdered snow-white to match. After one glance at us, she returns directly to her embroidery, clearly unimpressed.
“King Frederick said you could be of assistance to me,” Prince Hermann drawls, barely bothering to utter the words.
“We are, my lord.” I bow deeply.
“The issue concerns my daughter, Princess Maria. Completely distraught. This frog won’t leave her side, you see.” He takes a slug of his wine. “Says it demands to sleep and eat with her. Apparently, the frog told her he’s Prince William of Württemberg. Pure silliness, don’t you think?”
“Highly unusual,” I say. And alarming. This all is starting to sound too much like the Forbidden. “May I have a word with your daughter?”
“Guards!” Prince Hermann waves his hand as if the effort is exhausting. “Bring in my daughter.”
We wait in silence, shifting from foot to foot.
Finally, the doors swing open, and a young woman who must be Princess Maria strolls into the room.
A portion of her long blonde hair is plaited around the top of her head like a crown, while the rest cascades down her back.
Her dress is of the finest purple silk with gold printed leaves scattered on it and a short train that slinks across the floor behind her as she strolls into the hall.
“Pretty as a petal, sharp as a thorn, I’ll wager.” Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes pop from their sockets. “Still, perhaps this trip wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”
I kick him for his comment, even if he’s right. Everything about her is perfect except those red lips dipped into a pout and the disdain in her eyes ruin her complexion. Held between two fingers, she dangles a frog.
“Saints help us,” Wilhelm whispers.
“This is it.” She marches to me. “Meet Prince William of Württemberg. Quite the catch.” Then she giggles as if her words were immensely entertaining.
“The prince of Württemberg, my boots.” Rumpelstiltskin spits on the floor. “More like prince of the pond.”
I clear my throat, studying the wiggling frog. “Please set him on the table for inspection.”
“With pleasure.” She drops him onto the table and then demands a handkerchief from her lady-in-waiting. “Tell King Frederick, I refuse to marry a frog. It’s simply repulsive.”
The frog sits still on its haunches, staring at us with beady eyes.
“I don’t understand,” Wilhelm says. “Why do you think this frog is Prince William?”
“I was playing with my ball by the pond,” she explains. “It slipped from my fingers, and then this frog appeared, offering to retrieve it if I gave him a kiss.”
“And you agreed?” It’s hard to keep my lips from twitching.
“I needed my ball!” Her brown eyes widen like she’s stated the obvious.
“But there’s no way that I, a princess, could ever kiss such a slimy thing.
Besides, how was I to know it would follow me here and make such demands?
Take it away at once so I can sleep without it trying to crawl into my bed again. Horrid creature.”
Wilhelm picks up the frog, which makes no move to resist. He begins inspecting it and then holds it in front of me, pointing to the tiny mark, showing it’s a Forbidden. Blight it all, I think sourly.
“It’s as green and slimy as a frog will ever be,” Wilhelm acknowledges, clucking his tongue. “Definitely not prince material.”
Prince Hermann shrugs like he can’t be bothered by this nonsense. I don’t blame him.
“Exactly. Not princely in the slightest.” Princess Maria picks up her skirts and tosses her head with a harumph. Wilhelm gasps. I follow his eyes to the princess’s neck. Bleeding stars, she’s got a Forbidden mark, too. She storms out of the throne room, her lady-in-waiting rushing after her.
“I’m too old to play these kinds of games,” Prince Hermann says, interrupting my scattered thoughts. “Tell the king we have yet to see his son, but we will make every effort to keep a lookout and notify him should he come our way. He’s not the only one who needs to marry off a spoiled child.”
“I’d be delighted to take your daughter off your hands,” Rumpelstiltskin says with a grin that’s little teeth and all trouble. “She’s a pretty thing. Easy on these old eyes.”
“Dismissed!” Prince Hermann announces, sitting straighter. “And take that inferior thing with you.”
“Of course.” I bow. “Thank you, your Royal Highness.”
“He’s talking about the frog, right?” Rumpelstiltskin asks as we exit.
“Hard to tell,” I say. “We need to lose our escort. This is where you come in. I need you to distract him.”
“Do this, do that. The demands never end, do they?”
“Either that or I finish your story when Wilhelm isn’t looking.”
Rumpelstiltskin glowers. “Fine, you tyrant.”
As we round a corner, the corridor opens into a four-way intersection. The perfect spot to split up. I nod to Rumpelstiltskin. He huffs and rolls his eyes dramatically. Then, with a shrieking sound, he takes off down the hall.
“Where’s he going?” our escort blurts, panic flaring in his eyes.
“You'd better catch him,” I warn. “He has the habit of collecting shiny things.”
“Stop!” Our guard races after him. “Come back, by order of the king!”
The only orders Rumpelstiltskin follows are tricks and schemes. Quickly, I find a small room and wave Wilhelm inside, shutting the door.
“Set the cursed frog on the floor,” I order Wilhelm.
“You’re not going to step on it, are you?” he asks before complying. It croaks up at us.
“Reveal yourself in the name of the Enchantress,” I demand.
Wind rushes through the room, and in a funnel of magic, the slimy frog morphs into a handsome man with wavy ginger hair, chiseled features, and green eyes. His clothes are a bit of a tangled mess. The shirt is wrapped around one leg, and his jacket hangs from his neck like a bib.
“Prince William,” I say darkly.
“This is the prince?” Wilhelm asks, bowing.
“Hello, there.” Our frog prince shoots us a bemused look as he unties his shirt from his leg. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”
“Jacob Grimm.” I cross my arms. “We met at the village square of Honau. This is my brother, Wilhelm.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Royal Highness,” Wilhelm says.
“Ah, yes. Now I remember. My father’s hunters.”
“How convenient for you to show yourself now that the princess utterly despises you.”
“It was a clever trick, wasn’t it?” Prince William slaps us on the shoulders.
“And I have you to thank for rescuing me from that spoiled princess. But how did you know to unturn me, or even how? Did Claude send you? I was getting worried when my servant didn’t show up to command me back to my human self. ”