She answered after a moment: “Yes. I think I do understand, a little.”
“Thank you,” said the frog.
“Yes,” she said again. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
But just before she fell asleep, she heard the voice once more: “I have one more favor to ask. That you do not mention, when you take me to the Hall tomorrow, that I … talk.”
“Very well,” she said drowsily.
PART THREE
THERE WAS A ripple of nervous laughter when the Princess Rana appeared in the Great Hall on the next morning, carrying a large frog. She held her right arm bent at the elbow and curled lightly against her side; and the frog rode quietly on her forearm. She was wearing a dress of pale blue, with lace at her neck, and her fair hair hung loose over her shoulders, and a silver circlet was around her brow; the big green frog showed brilliantly and absurdly against her pale loveliness. She sat on her low chair before her father’s throne; the frog climbed, or slithered, or leaped, to her lap, and lay, blinking foolishly at the noblemen in their rich dresses, and the palace servants in their handsome livery; but it was perhaps too stupid to be frightened, for it made no other motion.
She had seen Aliyander standing with the Crown Prince when she entered, but she avoided his eyes; at last he came to stand before her, legs apart, staring down at her bent head with a heat from his black eyes that scorched her skin.
“You dare to mock me,” he said, his voice almost a hiss, thick with a venomous hatred she could not mistake.
She looked up in terror, and he gestured at the frog. “Ah, no, I meant no—” she pleaded, and then her voice died; but the heat of Aliyander’s look ebbed a little as he read the fear in her face.
“A frog, Princess?” he said; his voice still hurt her, but now it was heavy with scorn, and pitched so that many in the Hall would hear him. “I thought Princesses preferred kittens, or greyhounds.”
“I—” She paused, and licked her dry lips. “I found it in the garden.” She dropped her eyes again; she could think of nothing else to say. If only he would turn away from her—just for a minute, a minute to gather her wits; but he would not leave her, and her wits would only scatter again when next he addressed her.
He made now a gesture of disgust; and then straightened up, as if he would turn away from her at last, and she clenched her hands on the arms of her chair—and at that moment the frog gave its great bellow, the noise that had startled her yesterday into dropping the necklace into the pool. And Aliyander was startled; he jerked visibly—and the courtiers laughed.
It was only the barest titter, and strangled instantly; but Aliyander heard it, and he turned, his face black with rage as it had been yesterday when Rana had returned wearing a cold grey necklace; and he seized the frog by the leg and hurled it against the heavy stone wall opposite the thrones, which stood halfway down the long length of the Hall and faced across the narrow width to tall windows that looked out upon the courtyard.
Rana was frozen with horror for the moment it took Aliyander to fling the creature; and then as it struck the wall, there was a dreadful sound, and the skin of the frog seemed to—burst—and she closed her eyes.
The sudden gasp of all those around her made her eyes open against her will. And she in her turn gasped.
For the frog that Aliyander had hurled against the wall was there no longer; as it struck and fell, it became a tall young man, who stood there now, his ruddy hair falling past his broad shoulders, his blue eyes blazing as he stared at his attacker.
“Aliyander,” he said, and his voice fell like a stone in the silence. Aliyander stood as if his name on those lips had turned him to stone indeed.
“Aliyander. My little brother.”
No one moved but Rana; her hands stirred of their own accord. They crept across the spot on her lap where the frog had lain only a minute ago; and they seized each other.
Aliyander laughed—a terrible, ugly sound. “I defeated you once, big brother. I will defeat you again. You are weaker than I. You always will be.”
The blue eyes never wavered. “Yes, I am weaker,” Lian replied, “as you have proven already. I do not choose your sort of power.”
Aliyander’s face twisted as Rana had seen it before. She stood up suddenly, but he paid no attention to her; the heat of his gaze was now reserved for his brother, who stood calmly enough, staring back at Aliyander’s distorted face.
“You made the wrong choice,” Aliyander said, in a voice as black as his look; “and I will prove it to you. You will have no chance to return and inconvenience me a second time.”
It was as if no one else could move; the eyes of all were riveted on the two antagonists; even the Crown Prince did not move to be closer to his hero.
The Princess turned and ran. She paused on the threshold of the door to the garden, and picked up a tall flagon that had held wine and was now sitting forgotten on a deep windowsill. Then she ran out, down the white paths; she had no eyes for the trees and the flowers, or the smooth sand of the courtyard to her right; she felt as numb as she had the day before with her handful of round and glowing jewels; but today her eyes watched where her feet led her, and her mind said hurry, hurry, hurry.
She ran to the pond where she had found the frog, or where the frog had found her. She knelt quickly on the bank, and rinsed the sour wine dregs from the bottom of the flagon she carried, emptying the tainted water on the grass behind her, where it would not run back into the pool. Then she dipped the jug full, and carried it, brimming, back to the Great Hall.
She had to walk slowly this time, for the flagon was full and very heavy, and she did not wish to spill even a drop of it. Her feet seemed to sink ankle-deep in the ground with every step, although in fact the white pebbles held no footprint as she passed, and only bruised her small feet in their thin-soled slippers.
She paused on the Hall’s threshold again, this time for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. No one had moved; and no one looked at her.
She saw Aliyander raise his hand and bring it like a back-handed slap against the air before him; and though Lian stood across the room from him, she saw his head jerk as if from the force of a blow; and a thin line formed on his cheek, and after a moment blood welled and dripped from it.
Aliyander waved his hand so the sharp stone of his ring glittered; and he laughed.
Rana started forward again, step by step, as slowly as she had paced the garden, although only a few steps more were needed. Her arms had begun to shiver with the weight of her burden. Still Aliyander did not look at her; for while his might be the greater strength at last, still he could not tear his eyes away from the calm clear gaze of his brother’s; his brother yet held him.