Just A Kiss: (The Frog Prince) (Tangled Tales Series Book 2) (4 page)

“Thank you,” interrupted Arnon, riding over to his father. “It’s time to go,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

His father nodded slightly but kept his eyes on the peasants and his jaw clenched.

“Did the mercenaries tell you anything else at all? Like who hired them to do this?” asked Wolf from atop his charge, fishing for information.

“Nay, just ta clean up the mess,” said the man.

“That’s not true,” spat the woman. “We overheard them saying they were going to demand more money from the Baron of Slapton.”

“The baron?” This was news to Arnon and he wondered how they could use this to their advantage. Mayhap storming the castle wasn’t the best plan of attack after all. “Did you hear anything else?”

The woman clammed up, and didn’t speak again until Arnon pulled a coin from the pouch at his waist and held it in the air. “Can you give me any more information?” He flipped the coin to her and she caught it eagerly with both hands.

“Well, they were talkin’ about the baron holdin’ some kind of competition.”

“A competition? What for?” Arnon needed to know more.

The man pushed his way in front of the woman now with his hand out. “I know why, my lord.”

Arnon just chuckled and tossed a coin to the man too. His wife tried to catch it, but he shoved it into his pocket and stepped away from her. “They were sayin’ on the morrow there’d be a competition fer a knight te marry the baron’s odd daughter.”

“That’s right, milord,” said his wife pushing in front of her husband. “I heard them say that any knight that could beat the baron at each event will be the one to win Lady Freya’s hand in marriage.”

“Lady Freya? Is that her name?” The sound of her name resonated within Arnon and he found himself thinking of the girl’s beautiful face once again. He remembered every detail about her from their meeting in the marshlands last night.

“Aye, are you knights off to Castle Fane for the competition?” asked the man.

Arnon smiled and nodded his head.

“You can’t really be considering it,” said Stefan.

“Aye, my lord. With all due respect, the daughter of the earl is very odd and people usually go out of their way to avoid her,” added the woman.

“If that’s the case then I’ll certainly enter the competition.” Arnon was feeling better already. “After all, if everyone is avoiding her, I’ll have a good chance of winning, won’t I?”

“The baron doesn’t like to lose at anything,” the man told him.

“And he has a temper on him at times meaner than a hungry hunting dog, so watch out.” The woman nodded toward the burnt wooden poles to make her point

“I’m sure she’s worth fighting for and I’m going to be the man to win her hand in marriage.” Arnon felt very confident now. Things were looking better for him. He might start being as lucky as his brothers soon and have not only his own wife, but also a castle and lands to go with it. After all, the baron was old and wouldn’t have the strength or energy that Arnon had. Arnon could beat him easily. The baron surely couldn’t live that much longer either. Aye, this would be a much better way of attaining his success. He’d marry the man’s daughter and claim his wealth that way instead.

Chapter 5

The door to the bedchamber closed, and Freya stood in the hall just staring at Marni.

“She’s going to live, isn’t she?” Freya’s mother had taken a turn for the worse and even the witch’s healing herbs didn’t seem to be helping. She’d been unconscious since yesterday and Freya already missed talking to her mother.

“I did everything I could,” Marni told her. “There’s naught else we can do but wait and watch.”

“My ladies, pardon me,” said one of her father’s guards as he walked up to meet them.

“Yes, what is it?” Freya was so upset she could barely concentrate or she’d know exactly why the man was there.

“Lady Freya, your father has instructed me to fetch you and bring you to your solar. Your handmaid already awaits you. He wishes you to wear the proper attire for the competition that’ll start within the hour.”

“The competition,” she repeated, having almost forgotten about the competition that was being held today to determine which knight would be her husband. She only wished her magic worked inside the castle walls. If it did, she’d sabotage them all since she didn’t want to be married right now.

“My lady,” said the guard, nodding his head and motioning down the corridor.

“I’m not sure.” Freya looked back to the closed door of her mother’s room. “I shouldn’t leave mother at a time like this.”

“Go watch the men compete and make fools out of themselves,” Marni told her. “I’ll stay with your mother and send a messenger to get you if her condition changes.”

“Thank you, Marni.” Freya felt relieved to have someone to talk to who understood her. Marni was a blessing to have around. With her, she didn’t need to hide her secrets.

She followed the guard to her chamber and when he stopped and opened the door, she stepped inside. She looked up to see her handmaiden, Carine, inside the room standing by the bed.

“That’ll be all,” Freya told the guard.

“I’ll be waiting outside the door to escort you to the jousting field as soon as you are ready.”

“Aye,” she said with a sigh and closed the door. Boregard croaked from inside the wash basin and the handmaiden screamed and held her hand to her chest.

Freya laughed. “Carine, you know Gar is going to be in my room somewhere yet you always seem scared or surprised when you find him.”

“I’m sorry, my lady, honest I am. I don’t mean to scream but I don’t take a fancy to slimy frogs.”

“He’s not slimy. Not really.” She walked over and scooped the frog up that was already climbing out of the water basin. She held it up for the girl to see. Carine made a face and backed away.

“Please my lady, can I help you with your dress and hair? The competition is starting soon.”

“Oh, all right.” She put the frog back down in the water.

Carine just stared at it and shook her head. “I don’t suppose you’ll be washing up then before you dress?”

“No need. I’m fine and I don’t want to bother Gar. He enjoys his baths more than I do mine.”

She removed her black leather and lace, and just stared at the gown that the handmaid had laid out on the bed. It was an ugly pale shade of yellow, and Freya wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something like that. She liked her clothes dark or vibrant, and had a whole wardrobe full of things she adored. This was not one of them.

“That’s ugly and I’ll not wear it.”

“But my lady, your father said this is what you were to wear. He wants you to look like a lady.”

“I am a lady no matter if I wear yellow or black so I don’t see the difference. Now go to my wardrobe and bring out the dark brown chemise and the forest green kirtle made of velvet. I’ll wear that today.”

“That?” The girl’s eyebrows raised. “That looks more like the clothes of one of the servants. It’s plain and drab and reminds me of the swamps.”

“Exactly why I like it so much, now do as I say. And while you’re at it, bring out my black gown with the black lace sleeves too.”

“Whatever you say, my lady.”

The handmaiden was a young girl, a few years younger than Freya. She was petite and plain looking, but Freya could see an inner beauty within her. With a little enhancing of the features on her face and the right clothes, this girl could look stunning.

“You really should paint your face, Carine. I’ll do it for you if you’d like.” Freya walked over to the window and threw open the shutter, looking down into the courtyard. Many knights rode their horses over the drawbridge and through the gates of Castle Fane, but none of them were of any interest to her.

“Oh, my lady. I am only a servant and your father would have my head if I let you do that.”

“Someday I’ll get you to change your mind.”

“What are you looking at, my lady?” Carine walked out of the wardrobe – the extra room attached to the bedchamber that housed Freya’s clothes. She held the clothes in her hands that she’d been instructed to retrieve.

“I’m looking at the knights and none of them are right for me.”

“How can you say that if you don’t even know them?” Carine laid the gowns on the bed and walked over to the window and peered over Freya’s shoulder.

Freya looked at one knight after the other as they entered the courtyard, and her stomach soured thinking she could very well be marrying one of them soon. “Nay . . . nay . . . extra nay,” she said, her eyes moving from one knight to the next as she ticked them off on her fingers.

“Let me help you dress, my lady.”

“Oh, all right.” Freya started to turn, but something caught her eye. The next knight who rode over the drawbridge had long, flowing black hair that lifted in the breeze. His face was sculpted and his body looked strong and sturdy. He donned a dark tunic with the silver and white crest of a rampant wolf upon it. Jeweled rings on his fingers glittered in the sun. She stopped and squinted her eyes, trying to see him better.

“Did you find one you like?” The handmaiden walked over and looked out the window and giggled. “Oh, that one with the long hair is nay for certain. No lady would want to marry a man who looks like the devil.”

“I think . . . he’s intriguing and also very handsome,” she said boldly, craning her neck to see him as he passed right under her window now. It was him! It was the knight named Arnon who had touched her arm in the swamp. That is, the man who had the brother that turned into a wolf. Perhaps this man was a warlock.

“You must be jesting,” said Carine. “Look at all that hair!”

He must have heard them talking, because he slowed his horse right under her window and looked up and winked. Freya’s heart jumped in her chest as he next grinned and slowly nodded. “My lady,” came his deep, rich voice as he acknowledged her. Their eyes interlocked for just a brief second and she felt a surge of excitement wash through her body, making her feel weak in the legs.

She jumped back and slammed closed the shutter, placing her hand over her racing heart. Outside the window she swore she heard him laughing from down below.

“Who is he?” asked the handmaiden, reaching for the shutter to open it, but Freya grabbed her arm and led her toward the bed.

“He’s just a knight competing like the rest of them. Now let’s get dressed and do something with my hair and get down to the jousting field quickly.”

Carine chuckled and picked up the green gown, but Freya crinkled her nose and shook her head.

“Nay. I’ll wear the black one today.”

Carine slowly picked up the black one instead, giving Freya a scolding look.

“It’s what I choose to wear and I’ll not hear a word from you,” said Freya, holding up her arms as the handmaiden helped her to dress.

“If you don’t mind me saying, I think you fancy the prince.”

“Prince?” She looked up as Carine reached for a headpiece she’d brought from the wardrobe as well. “Why would you call him a prince? He’s only a knight, I’m sure. And for all I know, a landless one at that.”

“Oh, but by his clothes and those rings on his fingers and the way his wild hair blows in the wind, I’d say otherwise.” Carine held up the dainty headpiece made of a silver circlet. Attached to it was a small lace veil. “Even if he does remind me of the devil, he still looks rather . . . shall I say regal?” Carine picked up a hairbrush in her other hand and nodded toward the dressing table mirror. “Have a seat and I’ll help you to look like a princess so you can match him. Although I must say again that gown makes you look dreary indeed.”

“I don’t want the headpiece, and I like my hair down.” She brushed the girl’s hand away. “And you’re wrong. This gown isn’t drab – it’s mysterious, just like me.”

“I guess you can say that. At least let me braid and coil your hair, Lady Freya. Your father will not be happy to see you show up at the competition with your hair loose and windblown. It’ll give all the men the wrong impression.”

“Aye, so it will,” she said, seeing a way to get out of having to marry one of these men. If they didn’t want her – if they thought she was wanton or addled – then they might not fight too hard to win her hand. “Bring me my black leather gypon please. And I want you to brush out my hair so much that it’ll remind everyone of a horse’s mane.”

“Oh, please don’t ask me to do that, my lady,” said Carine shaking her head. Her face was red and her eyes glassy. “A leather gypon is something a man would wear, not a young lady. And only a loose woman would wear her hair down and without a head covering. Your father will send me away if he thinks I’ve not followed his orders.”

“Then go,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I’ll ready myself and tell my father I sent you away and you had naught to do with it.” She reached for a jar on her dressing table that held white powder. Nobles strived for a pale complexion, and anyone with tanned skin was said to be naught more than a peasant that worked out in the fields for a living.

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Carine curtseyed quickly and ran out the door.

Freya patted the white powder onto her face to make her complexion as white as she could get it. Next to it was a jar of ground flowers mixed with oils that she used to color her eyelids. She didn’t care that women who painted their faces were said to be naught more than strumpets. She liked creating with the colors and making her eyes and lips stand out. To her, it was beauty, even if her father and everyone else disagreed.

She always thought of the stories of Cleopatra and the way she outlined her eyes in black. She didn’t remember anyone ever referring to Cleopatra as anything but a queen. She picked up a small brush she’d made from the tip of a bird’s feather and formed it into a sharp point at the end. She opened another jar of black powder and continued to outline her eyes. One last jar held the pulp of crushed berries. Freya dipped her finger into the jar and scooped some out. She smiled as she smoothed the dark wine-colored mixture onto her lips.

She liked to look colorful, but today she would intensify her look so none of the knights would want her. Then she’d be able to go back to her mother’s chamber and stay with her and hopefully talk with her and help her to heal. She wasn’t ready for marriage – not until she found the right man. And there was only one who even came close to intriguing her right now, but as Carine said – he was naught but the devil.