Category: Ep 3

Most frog prince stories end with a kiss. A Royal Froggy Problem started with one. At the end of the book, Nora is quite rightly livid with Sheena for her part in the frog hex, but this story captures why the witch did what she did.

A cautionary word though, if you haven’t read the book, you may want to go check it out here first.

Sealed With a Kiss

Sheena excused herself from the throne room and clutched the vial in her pocket. She hadn’t seen her fiance all evening, and the potion she had brewed was becoming less potent as time wore on. Although nerves danced in her belly, she was resolved to transform her future husband into something less formidable, leaving no opportunity for her father to marry her off elsewhere.

The full moon illuminated the gardens, and she slipped through an open door under an arch heavy with the scent of jasmine. While warm, the absence of the scorching sun was a welcome relief. Her thoughts strayed as her silk slippers crunched on the gravel path, wondering if she would have time to prepare another dose before the morning meal.

A giggle from the shadows drew her attention, and Sheena narrowed her eyes at the far wall of the garden. Taking a tentative step from the path to the soft lawn, she crept closer, already suspecting who she would find in a hasty embrace.

Between the palm fronds concealing her presence, she curled her lip at the sight of her fiance groping a young woman. A servant, most likely, who wouldn’t dare refuse the lecherous pig. It was as though benevolent spirits had guided her here, giving her the opportunity to remedy his condition to something more fitting.

Moving warily, she unstoppered the vial and dabbed droplets from her finger onto her plump lips. Careful not to ingest any, she hid the vial among the bushes and strode out toward the couple.

“And what do we have here?” she pouted. “Am I not pleasing to his royal highness?”

His back was turned to her, though she saw his body tense in the dim light. The girl pressed herself against the wall, seemingly terrified, and he unhanded her to spin on his heel. The mottled red of his cheeks had nothing to do with that of shame, and he glowered at the interruption.

“What do you want, woman?” he sneered.

Sheena flashed a smile and flickered her eyes toward the girl. “Leave us, harlot.”

The girl scampered away and Sheena stepped closer to the Prince. His fists clenched at his sides, and Sheena reached to smooth his richly embroidered silk shirt. “Come now. Let me be the one to please you.”

His lip curled, but before he could refuse her, she stood on tiptoes to reach for his mouth, forming intent in her mind. When their lips locked, a crackle in the air prickled Sheena’s neck and her mouth twisted in a malevolent grin. She stepped backward as the prince began shrinking, his face already turning an alarming shade of green, his shocked expression distorting into an amphibian set of features.

“Think you could see out your days with your boot planted on my head, husband?” Sheena hissed. “Your only dominion now will be that of stinking marshes and insects.”

His highness, the frog, flicked his tongue from the bundle of clothes on the ground. Sheena drew her sleeve across her mouth before scooping the pile up and took a few deep breaths to collect herself. She knew what followed would be the performance of her life, and her fate would forever be in the balance. Leaving one slipper discarded, she pulled a pin from her hair and let out a piercing wail.

“The prince!” she screamed. “Someone help, my fiance has been hexed!”

And we all know who got the blame!

Perhaps I should put together the tale of her comeuppance set after A Royal Froggy Problem, though Nora was pretty clear Sheena was not off the hook with her!

For more bonus content, head back to the episode page to find it all in the one spot.

Nora and Gretchen’s trip to the Witches’ Academy in A Royal Froggy Problem brought back a flood of memories for Gretchen’s time there as a student. This week, I thought I’d put together a story of truancy and fireworks from Gretchen’s youth. She was as much trouble then as she is now!

Youth, Truancy, and Fireworks

Gretchen scowled as she scrubbed the endless pile of plates brought down from the dining hall. It wasn’t her fault that old Chancellor Inglewood happened to walk past her table when she let off the fire cracker spell. 

If she thought keeping Gretchen in the kitchens would prevent her from giving the cook the slip to see the fire show, she was sadly mistaken. 

Aunt Esme would have seen the humor in it. Gretchen doubted that her aunt would give her much by way of reprimand when she went home at the end of the semester. She never did, much to her sister Cordelia’s disgust. 

Gretchen watched Cook from the corner of her eye as she dutifully scrubbed the remains of the thick stew that was the students usual fare from the mostly chipped crockery. The woman was formidable, and it wasn’t the first time Gretchen had fallen afoul of the stout guardian of the kitchen. That would make it harder to sneak out from under her upturned nose, but the risk was worth the reward.

The fire show only took place once a year, and at fifteen, Gretchen was now considered old enough to attend the ceremony which was largely officiated by the Wizard’s Guild. The royalty and all the nobles of the land would be up on stage, waving to the small folks who gathered in the market square. But Gretchen wasn’t interested in their pomp.

If she could get her hands on some proper fireworks, she was sure she could improve her pyrotechnic skills. It wasn’t a brand of sorcery that the Witches’ Academy encouraged and was dominated by snooty wizards favored by the gentry. But some nights Gretchen fancied spending the rest of her life on the road, perhaps with a traveling band of performers, and having a bag of tricks would be the right step in that direction.

“I don’t have all night,” Cook tittered. “Always the same with you youngsters. Arms like lead, as if they wouldn’t know a hard day’s work if it bit them on the backside.” 

Gretchen ground her teeth, fighting the urge to make reference to the harridan’s own wide backside. If she would just take a sip of that darn tea by the fire…

“Nothing to say for yourself?” she clucked. “A first for everything I suppose.” 

Gretchen heard, rather than saw, Cook shuffle toward the fireplace where the only chair in the room sat. She smothered a smile and dropped another stack of plates in the sink. When she heard an undignified slurp, she counted to ten before risking a glance over her shoulder.

Already, Cook’s eyelids drooped, and if she noticed the young witch watching her, she didn’t give any sign of it. She knew she hadn’t gotten the brew quite right from the shade of yellow the woman was turning, but her breathing seemed easy enough. Gretchen grabbed a cloth to dry her hands while wearing a smug smile, then draped the wet, stained towel over Cook’s face before creeping into the hallway with a bucket of refuse under one arm. 

It was the oldest trick in the book, getting out through the doors which lead to the middens. In her first years at the Academy, she had read a discarded journal from centuries earlier of another student who’d used the same method for truancy. It was a wonder nothing had been done about it, although Gretchen thought the teachers rather enjoyed administering punishment.

Her feet were light on the more utilitarian floors, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when she rounded a corner and saw the back door clear of anyone who would interfere. Dropping the bucket by the door, she dusted off her hands and pushed the heavy door open with her shoulder. When she turned toward the street, she was nose to nose with Chancellor Inglewood.

“Not this time, Gretchen Murkwood.” Gretchen shuddered at the flinty tone in the Chancellor’s voice. “You think I didn’t expect some kind of trickery? Let’s see what state you left Cook in this time, so I can punish you accordingly.” 

Gretchen’s shoulders sagged, and she stepped aside to let Chancellor Inglewood past her. As the old woman’s heeled boots struck the timber floor of the hallway, Gretchen slammed the door closed and sprang away down the alley. She ran as fast as her feet would curry her, and despite the shriek coming from the alleyway, she was soon lost in a press of people on the street waiting for the night’s festivities. 

She knew she would pay dearly for her transgressions. But she would make sure the night was worth it.

I hope it was worth it!

I can’t quite decide if she got her goodies in the end, but I’ll leave that in your hands as the reader. If you haven’t read A Royal Froggy Problem, it is currently available on Amazon with your Kindle Unlimited subscription.

Read Now

Or if you’re looking for more bonus content, head back to the episode page where I keep it all in one spot.

This deal at The Swine and Claw sets the scene for episode three, A Royal Froggy Problem. The baron is still seething in the aftermath of his big party, and Nora is his weapon of choice.

A Deal at The Swine and Claw

Nora took a sip of ale in the shadowy recesses of The Swine and Claw, waiting on her wizard associate to arrive. With the baron up at the palace, Nora had been left to conduct his more clandestine business in the city.

“Another?” Panna, the faun waitress, asked.

“Sure,” Nora sighed. “Trust a wizard to keep a witch versed in hexes waiting.”

Panna laughed and leaned in close. “I hear his master has been giving him a hard time. In all sorts of trouble over unpaid debts which he seeks magical solutions for.”

Nora chuckled. “If magic could conjure fortunes, the world would be a very different place.” 

Panna only nodded and swayed on her cloven hooves back to the bar. It was something of a ritual—these meetings at the only tavern for magical types in the city. Nora did a good trade in secrets and in return learned where she could acquire the more personal effects of those in the baron’s bad books. 

A hooded form slid into the chair across from her and Christophe pulled back his cowl. “Nora,” he nodded.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” Nora huffed. “It’s past bedtime for an old woman like me.”

Christophe smirked but remained silent as Panna returned with two mugs of ale. Nora thought it was likely prudent—not much escaped the faun’s notice.

“Now,” Nora cleared her throat. “I’ll need to know how I can get my hands on the toenails of Lord Walters.”

Christophe frowned into his mug. “What has that oaf done to insult the baron?”

Nora sighed. “Insulting the baron is one of his favorite pastimes. But ever since the incident at that shindig the baron hosted…”

“I heard it was spectacularly disgusting,” he took a sip of ale. “You wouldn’t have had anything to do with it, would you?”

“Me?” Nora grinned. “Now why would you even ask?”

The wizard shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He keeps a strumpet in the city.”

“Lord Walters?” Nora leaned over the table. “That sounds promising.”

“I’ll have a note sent with the name,” he curled his lip. “I try not to get overly familiar with the details. What do you intend to do with his toenails?”

“Probably athlete’s foot or something. Only persistent enough for him to know it was a hex and not rancid socks.”

“I’ll never understand it,” The wizard narrowed his eyes. “Why do you pursue such frivolous magic?”

Nora pushed her spectacles up her nose. It wasn’t the first time their conversations had veered into wild debates. “At least it’s honest. Every lord and lady in the kingdom knows that trifling with the baron comes with uncomfortable afflictions. Not like the whispers of people disappeared entirely. That there is unconscionable and I wouldn’t stand for it, even with the might of the Wizard Academy at my back.”

Christophe waved his hand, and his shoulder sagged. “Not tonight, Nora. I need more than information this time. I’m seeking an item to put my lord at ease. He fears for his life, and will not eat a bite unless I have studiously examined each and every meal.”

Nora frowned. The wizard looked exhausted. “So go see an alchemist. Toadstones aren’t easy to come by, but they should be able to procure one.”

The wizard rubbed his eyes. “I have been explicitly instructed not to make this request known to the magical circles within the city. He fears his enemies would just find another way to do away with him.”

“So you want me to buy one for you?” Nora blinked.

“I will recompense you for your time. Ten percent of the value of the stone itself.”

Nora sat back in her seat and folded her arms. “Twenty.”

“Fifteen,” he barked.

Nora nodded slowly. Toadstones were valuable, fifteen percent of their worth would be a tidy sum.

“And if anyone hears of it,” Christophe glared, “disappearing will be the least of your problems.”

The wizard stood and stalked out the back of The Swine and Claw, leaving Nora to consider the offer. It made sense he would seek her out rather than leaving the money with a person without magical talent. Those alchemists were slippery, and like as not would sell them a painted rock. She could either go to an alchemist herself… or see if she couldn’t dredge up a giant toad on the baron’s lands herself.

This won’t be the only deal at The Swine and Claw…

And Gretchen will find herself quite surprised with Nora’s familiarity with the notorious tavern. With only three days until A Royal Froggy Problem hits the Amazon store, I hope you’ve got your pre-order ready to go!

Each week a new piece of bonus content will go up on the episode page, so be sue to check back to see what’s next.