Page 73 of The Frog Prince
Otto squeezed his hand, making Alwin very aware that he wasstillholding it. “Quite amusing.” He grinned. “Please, don’t stop on my account.”
Alwin put his nose in the air to hide the fact that he was about to melt into the stonework. “Dinner,” he said, leading them through the chaos.
They reached the room Alwin took all his meals in—once a great dining hall, now only the ruin of half of one. Still, there was an ancient table and some larger stones Alwin had pushed into place long ago to act as chairs.
Alwin led them to the first seat and finally detached their hands, Otto’s fingers tightening around nothing as Alwin’s fingers slipped easily away. Otto frowned and looked up at him, as if asking why.
Alwin ignored the regretful but excited thump of his heart and rounded the table, taking the seat opposite him, back straight like he’d been taught since he was old enough to sit.
A few frogs dragged over what was left of Alwin’s personal tea set. Two chipped, porcelain teacups with golden filigree and a single saucer. It looked ridiculous.
“I can’t offer much, but the frogs can help us gather something,” he said, wishing he could give him the world.
He took a mental inventory of the things he had left to exchange for a good meal on short notice, but Otto beat him to it.
He placed his bag on the table and pulled out a few parcels wrapped in cloth. “This first. Gisela sent what food she could find with us, and I would hate for it to go to waste. So how about we finish this and you can organize our meals after that?”
Alwin could only nod, pushing down the urge to say no to that suggestion and show him he could provide.
“Good.” Otto unwrapped two slices of dark bread Alwin knew was made from bark, a wooden pot filled with steamed root vegetables, and a small pouch of roasted pumpkin seeds.
Otto spread the food on the table in front of them and motioned toward it. “Help yourself.”
Alwin reached for a slice of bread and some seeds, making sure he picked the smaller piece, leaving the bulk of it for Otto. Where he hesitated, as always, was in actually putting it in his mouth.
“You don’t have to hide every time you eat in front of me.”
Alwin burned with embarrassment. He hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious. “I hardly hide.”
“You turn your head or wait for me to turn mine,” Otto said.
“It’s bad manners to put other people off their food.” Alwin raised his chin.
Otto frowned heavily. “Why would I be put off?”
Alwin couldn’t answer, staring instead at the table between them. Otto’s hand appeared in front of him, palm up and beseeching.
“Please, don’t feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. You don’t find the way I eat disgusting, do you?”
Alwin’s head shot up. “Of course not.”
“Then this is no different.”
Alwin couldn’t explain the inner dilemma. That he used to be human. That he found the way his frogs ate perfectly normal, but couldn’t accept it for himself. Every day was a fight against abody he didn’t want, sometimes in awe of the things he could do, sometimes hating every difference so much he wanted to tear his skin off.
He slowly picked up the bread and tore a piece off. He stared at it for a long moment, heart hammering in his chest and stomach rolling, before he placed it in his mouth. He locked his head in place when it wanted to turn and swallowed with his eyes closed. He knew how it looked—his eyes pressing down to force the food into his throat, the way his face compressed and squished.
When he opened his eyes again, it was to find Otto staring at him with wide blue eyes. Alwin fought against the shame as he watched the corners of Otto’s mouth curl, his cheek resting in his hand.
“Maybe you were right to hide it from me. I don’t want to eat anything—I want to feed you and watch you eat instead.”
It was so unexpected that Alwin nearly toppled from his chair. “That’s…that’s ridiculous.”
Otto put his other cheek in his other hand and leaned forward, staring intently. “Try it again and we can find out.”
“Absolutely not!”
Otto almost pouted. “But I like it. And you’ve been hiding it all this time.”
