The Perfectly Proper Prince (5 page)

T
HE PRINCESSES STARED AT THE LARGE GREEN
frog in Elena's hands. He blinked at them and began to croak rapidly. Lysandra bent closer. “I think he's trying to speak,” she said. “I can almost make out some words.”

“The market's too noisy,” said Fatima. “Let's take him someplace quieter.”

“How about the meadow where we landed?” suggested Tansy.

“Good idea,” said Elena.

They left the market and walked back to the meadow. Tansy played her flute along the way, and their thoughts drifted above them. Fatima reddened when she heard herself think,
I wish I could be the one to carry him. After all I am the oldest.
A moment later Lysandra blushed too.
Maybe Fatima will let me fly the carpet when we go back to the castle
, she had thought.

By the time they reached the meadow, the princesses had learned to concentrate their attention on the frog to make his thoughts soar above their own.
Who are these girls? What new misery is this
? he thought as they set him down.
I'm still a prince, even if I am a frog. Why can't I ever get any respect?

“Be quiet, you silly frog,” Lysandra said. “We're here to help you.”

The frog blinked. Then, for the first time, he spoke clearly. “Really? You're going to help me?”

The princesses nodded. “We know you're an enchanted prince,” said Elena. “We heard your thoughts while Tansy was playing her flute.”

“My thoughts?” squeaked the frog. “You've
been spying on my thoughts?” He jumped up and down. “That's just not right,” he spluttered. “Not right at all!”

Fatima rolled her eyes. “Sounds to me like he doesn't want our help,” she said to her friends. “Maybe we should just chuck him in the swamp and go back to the castle.”

The frog blinked again. “The castle? What castle?”

“The castle of King Sheldon II,” said Lysandra. “He's my father.”

For a second the frog looked puzzled. “I've heard that name before,” he said. “A long time ago. Must've been important, but—wait!” he exclaimed. “You must be a princess!”

Lysandra grinned. “We're
all
princesses.” One by one, they introduced themselves.

“So now that you know our names,” said Elena, picking up the frog and placing him in Fatima's lap, “won't you tell us your own?”

“I'm Prince Jerome,” he said. “Or at least I used to be, before a witch placed a spell on me.”

“How long ago was that?” asked Lysandra.

“Nine years ago,” Jerome said sadly. “Nine l-o-n-g years ago.”

Tansy whistled. “What have you been doing all that time?”

“I lived with the witch for a while,” said Jerome. “But then she threw me out. I've
never understood why, since I tried to be helpful. I showed her the proper way to stir potions, and gave her good suggestions for improving her wardrobe. She wore way too much black.”

Fatima smiled. “I can't imagine why she didn't appreciate your help.”

Jerome sighed. “Ever since the witch kicked me out of her hut, I've been roaming from one place to another. It's a miracle I'm still alive, really. You can't imagine how close I've come to being crushed by a cart wheel or swallowed up by a goose.”

He hopped to Fatima's shoulder. “In all my years as a frog, you're the first princesses I've come upon.” He eyed them each in turn. “So, which one of you is going to kiss me?”

F
ATIMA SHUDDERED IN DISGUST
. “N
OT ME,” SHE
said hurriedly.

Lysandra shook her head. “Nor me.”

“Sorry,” said Elena. “I'm not even allowed to date until I'm at least fourteen.”

“Me neither,” said Tansy. “And I'll probably never date. If all princes are like my brothers, I don't
ever
want to get married.”

Jerome scowled. “Well, someone has to do it. It's only proper. That's the way these things are
always
done!”

“You sound just like my sister,” said Lysandra. She snapped her fingers. “That's it! We'll get
her
to kiss him. They'd make a perfect match!”

“Yes!” cried the others.

“Excuse me,” said Jerome. “But would you mind telling me a little more about your sister first?”

“What do you want to know?” Lysandra asked.

A rosy glow spread from Jerome's head to his feet. “Well…um…is she pretty?”

Lysandra hadn't known frogs could blush. But maybe it was only the enchanted ones that could. She grinned. “My sister has classic princess good looks right down to her golden locks.”

Jerome nodded, looking pleased. “And how old is she?”

“Twenty-five,” Lysandra said, somewhat reluctantly.

Jerome exploded. “TWENTY-FIVE!”

“A very
young
twenty-five,” Lysandra insisted.

Fatima raised an eyebrow. “Pardon me,” she said to Jerome, “but how old are
you
?”

“Let me think,” said Jerome. “I've been a frog for nine years, and I was a prince up until the age of eighteen, so that would make me…”

“TWENTY-SEVEN!” shouted Tansy.

The princesses laughed. “You're not so young yourself,” said Lysandra. “You weren't married before that witch cast a spell on you, were you?”

Jerome shook his head no. “You'll probably find this hard to believe, but I used to be
rather fussy. There were lots of princesses interested in marrying me, but I rejected them all.”

“Why?” Elena asked.

Jerome stared down at his webbed toes as if he felt ashamed. “Oh, I had lots of reasons. One of them laughed too loudly. Another's hair was too curly.” He paused. “There was one whom I almost married. She was a real beauty, and we got along wonderfully well. We
were even engaged….” His voice drifted off.

“So what happened?” asked Fatima.

“One night during dinner, she got a little piece of boiled cabbage stuck between her teeth. I couldn't help noticing. I guess I made a face, because suddenly she jumped up from the table and ran out of the room.”

“And you didn't run after her?” asked Tansy.

“No,” Jerome answered sadly. “I still would've married her, but she disappeared
that very night. The next day I went searching for her—and that's when I ran into the witch.”

“Bad luck,” said Lysandra.

“That's what I thought too,” said Jerome. “But later the witch told me she'd turned me into a frog to teach me a lesson.”

“And what lesson was that?” Elena asked.

“I'm not sure,” said Jerome, “but she called me a perfectly proper, pathetically pompous pest when she threw me out of her hut.” He sighed. “I've changed, though. Really I have.”

The princesses exchanged a smile.

From far above the village, trumpets sounded. Lysandra went pale. “The rest period is over!” she exclaimed. “If we're not back in my bedchamber soon, we're doomed!”

“Then let's go!” cried Tansy.

“We'll hurry,” Elena said.

Fatima scooped up Jerome in one hand
and unstrapped the carpet from her back with the other. The carpet fell to the ground and unrolled. As soon as they'd scrambled onto it, they were lifted into the air.

“Frogs don't fly!” Jerome screamed, hopping up and down in Fatima's hands.

Elena and Tansy couldn't help giggling.

“Be brave,” Fatima said. “You're a
prince
, remember?” She turned to Lysandra. “Since I've got my hands full, do you want to try to fly?”

“But I don't know how,” Lysandra replied.

“Don't worry,” said Fatima. “It's easy. Just take hold of the front of the carpet and tug gently in the direction you want to fly. Pull up to rise and down to lower. And let go when you want to stop.”

“All right.” Grasping the front edge of the carpet, Lysandra pulled up. The carpet whooshed into the sky. When it looked as if
they were level with the castle, Lysandra pulled forward. The carpet shot straight ahead.

As they sped along, Jerome yelped, “Put me back on the ground! I don't like it up here! We're all going to be killed! I've changed my mind! I'd rather be a live frog than a dead prince!”

Fatima rolled her eyes. “Oh, do be quiet!”

When they reached the castle, Lysandra aimed the carpet right for her bedchamber window. They sailed through it quite easily. Then Lysandra dropped the edge of the carpet, and they jerked to an abrupt halt.

“Sorry,” she said as everyone tumbled to the floor.

Jerome flew out of Fatima's hands and landed with a
plop
in the middle of Gabriella's bed. With a loud “CROAK!” he hid under her pillow.

The princesses picked themselves up. “You
did really well,” said Fatima. “Landings are hard. I've been flying for years, and I still muff some of mine.”

Running footsteps sounded in the corridor outside the door. “Pretend we just woke up,” Lysandra whispered, jumping into her bed.

A moment later Gabriella rushed into the room. “Thank goodness you're here!” she exclaimed. She fanned herself with her hands. “I had such a fright just now. I had a dream that I looked out the window and saw the four of you sailing by on a flying carpet and…” She stopped, her eyes narrowing as she spied the carpet in a heap on the floor. “You weren't flying just now, were you?”

With a loud croak, Jerome hopped out from under Gabriella's pillow. She screamed. “What's that
creature
doing on my bed!”

Jerome blinked, then sat still, as if stunned.

Tansy made a grab for him, but Jerome
came to and hopped out of her reach onto a pedestal table. “It's just a frog,” she said. “I found him in the courtyard.”

Gabriella frowned. “Please get him out of our room. Put him back outside.”

“Maybe he's enchanted,” Lysandra said slyly. “I think I'll kiss him and find out.”

Gabriella peered at Jerome. “Don't be ridiculous. Anyone can see he's just a plain, ordinary frog.” She touched his head. “He's dirty, too. Who knows what kind of awful swamp he was mucking about in before he came here.”

Lysandra rather expected Jerome to speak up and defend himself, but he seemed to have lost his tongue.

“Pardon me,” said Elena. “But doesn't it say in
Courtly Manners and Duties
that if a frog enters a princess's chamber, it's her duty to kiss him in case he's a prince?”

Gabriella looked at her sharply. “There may be something like that, but…”

“I'd kiss him myself,” said Elena. “But on page forty-three, I believe it says the princess must be fifteen or older.”

“Bats and bullfrogs!” Fatima exclaimed, pretending to be disappointed. “I won't be fifteen for nearly three more years!”

“And I'm only nine,” Tansy said sadly. “Is
anyone
here fifteen or older?” she asked, looking innocently at Gabriella.

Gabriella blushed. “I am, but—”

“You're
way
older than fifteen,” Lysandra interrupted. She knew Gabriella hated to be reminded of her age. “I bet you're even too old for frogs.” She turned to Elena. “Does
Courtly Manners and Duties
give a
maximum
age for princesses who kiss frogs?”

“I don't remember,” said Elena. “Shall I look it up?”

Gabriella glared at them. “I am
not
too old to kiss a frog.” To prove it, she bent over Jerome, her upper lip curled in distaste. Then, closing her eyes, she planted a kiss on his little froggy mouth.