The Toad Prince

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Come on, sweet girl,” Codi said with his arms out, holding a juicy carrot in one hand. “You can do it.”

Nadaria crouched next to him, and held her breath, watching Lola the deer put tentative weight on her front leg. With a heavy limp, she took one step, and then another. To go from where she had been, possibly needing an amputation, to this in just two weeks was incredible.

Codi turned to Nadaria with a beam. He was so happy she thought he might float up and join the clouds. Lola’s little hooves clicked against the wood floor of the stables, and her speed increased alongside her confidence.

The boy called over his shoulder. “Do you see her, my Lord? Isn’t she amazing?” It had taken a few days, but he’d grown more comfortable with Sorin, seeing he did not differ from everyone else. Some of the others made him seem like a monster.

“I do,” Sorin answered, leaning in the doorway behind them. Nadaria turned to look at him, and his eyes flicked to her. One side of his lips lifted. “I see her. Amazing.”

Nadaria blushed, and Sorin added, “And you know you can call me Sorin, Codi.”

Codi nodded. “Yes. But I forget. Many decades of a habit is hard to break.”

Lola made it to Codi and licked his ear, then claimed her crunchy prize, chomping the carrot in his hand. He laughed, his cheeks flushed with excitement, and stroked her neck.

“Dumitra has made this for you,” Codi said, pulling out a navy handkerchief. It was embroidered in a swirling floral design with pink thread. He tied it around Lola’s neck.

Nadaria ran her fingers over the thread. “Beautiful!”

“Pink for the witch who saved her,” he said, grinning at her.

“Aww. Well, I brought her here, but you saved her, Codi.”

The boy’s eyes shined with pride, but he shook his head to remain humble. Lola was sniffing his pockets and hands, looking for more treats, and he laughed when she located one inside his jacket pocket and got aggressive, nearly knocking him over. She secured her prize and chomped it. Behind her, Boian nickered and threw his head.

“So jealous Boian,” Sorin scolded him, and Codi laughed, rising and handing the stallion and the other three mares a carrot each.

“Ah, it is enough for today though, Lola,” Codi said to his deer. “Don’t overdo it.”

He lifted her and carried her back to her stall, then started tending his chores.

“I will see you tonight, Codi,” Nadaria said, standing.

“Okay. I wish you could come learn to dance, my Lo—Sorin. I’ve never had such fun.”

“It’s okay. I’m not so welcome by the others as I am by you.”

“They are fools. Dumitra says Mihal is overdramatic.”

Sorin couldn’t help but snort a laugh, but the boy turned to him with a serious expression.

“It wasn’t your fault. The only person to blame is the vampire witch. Why they think to blame you, I don’t understand.”

“I made choices. Foolish ones.”

Codi shrugged. “Maybe so, but it’s almost been two centuries. When do we stop punishing ourselves for what happened that night?” He pet the neck of the young red deer, gazing down at her. “Lola helps me see we are all allowed to be happy again, you know. To enjoy.”

“Have you been talking to her?” Sorin quipped, indicating Nadaria, and smiling to hide the tumble of emotions he was feeling. She had tried, many times, to say similar things to him.

Codi didn’t answer his question, and Sorin saw tears sliding down his cheeks. “Even if we all die with the last lily, I will be glad to have spent this final month… loving and laughing and dancing.”

Nadaria put her hand on Codi’s back, and he turned into her embrace, crying. Even after all this time, he was afraid to die. He didn’t want to go, especially now that life was brighter than it had been for as long as he could remember. Codi wanted to be with Lola and Nadaria. He was frightened of what waited after and wondered if he would burn for eternity in the river of fire for killing his family. Even worse, what if he didn’t burn, and they were there and he had to face them? He had nightmares about it, and couldn’t comprehend what Sorin experienced every month when he had to face Crina, and what he’d done to her.

Sorin watched Nadaria say soft comforting things to the boy, and whispered, “Me too, Codi.”

He slipped outside to wait for her, unable to bear the boy’s sorrow. Sorin could hear the soft murmurs of Codi and Nadaria speaking, and after some time, quiet laughter between them.

She emerged, looking over at him. Her eyes were glassy, but she smiled.

“Come with me, please?” she asked and put her hand out.

He took her hand and allowed her to guide him. When the bridge came into view, his heart stuttered and he stopped, pulling her back into him.

“I can’t go.”

“Why?”

Sorin was flustered, unsure of what to say. He ran his hand back through his hair. “He is the epitome of my failure. I don’t deserve to… I should have listened to Mihal. Or, that night when she got in, I should have rejected Crina and let Relia have me. Then they would both have lived.”

“You can’t know that for sure.”

“Well, I know what happened, and there’s a chance I could’ve stopped it.”

“Hindsight is much clearer than foresight. The only thing you’re guilty of is loving your wife. Of loyalty to her. You want to blame yourself so much for this, but you didn’t do it, Sorin.”

He ran his hands down his face and turned away from her. “Why must you pry like this? You act like everything is so much your business.”

Nadaria kept her temper in check, expecting this push back from him. “You made it my business when you brought me here.”

“I brought you here to end the curse, not to… mend me.”

“I can’t believe you actually think those two things are exclusive to each other. This entire curse is built with the blocks of your emotional torment.”

“Well, I am not Codi, okay? I am glad you helped him. You’re such a fixer. You think you can fix everyone and everything. But some people cannot be mended.”

Her voice was soft, just a whisper. “Love is more powerful than anything else.”

“Just stop.”

She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “No. I will not. You think you have to live a lifetime of punishment, and that’s not true. The shadows of the past don’t have to cloud the future.”

Sorin turned, and she saw anger and guilt and sorrow burning in the amber of his eyes. “What future? Huh?” He laughed, dry and humorless. “What, me and you? You don’t want that.”

She balled her hands into fists at her sides and took a step towards him. “You don’t know what I want.”

“Look, I brought you here to end the curse. This,” he spat, lifting his arm with the tattoo. “Has made everything so complicated when it’s really simple.”

“Why do you want the curse to end? I don’t understand why you’re even trying if you’ve given up on everything.”

“For everyone else, okay? I would accept my fate as a toad man, because it would be fitting, but everyone else deserves to be free. And, if it’s broken, I can walk into the sun and it can be over. This… this f*****g cruel joke that has been my life.”

Her mouth fell open, eyes wide with fresh horror. “You want me to break the curse so you can die?”

That was his plan all this time. His heart hammered because of the times his idiotic mind had wandered down the path of what forever might look like now that Nadaria was in his life. But she deserved forever with a good man. Sorin was a failure. He’d failed Crina as a husband, he failed his son as a father, and he failed his people. Doubt and fear grabbed hold of him, their icy fingers making his next words grow cold.

“That’s all I’ve wanted for almost two centuries. And one pleasant month with a pretty witch will not change that.”

“Sorin—”

“Why do you care so much? Huh?”

“Because, I…” Her voice trailed off, and her hand floated over to grip her tattooed forearm.

His eyes widened, because he knew she was thinking of a future with him, too. But Nadaria would be better off without him. She deserved the best, and if he had to be the bad guy to save her from himself, he would.

“This?” He scoffed, holding up his own. “You think you want this?”

“It’s fate.”

“It’s a mistake.”

Nadaria gasped, but she had pushed him too much, and his fear for the way she made everything uncertain bubbled up and poured out of his mouth.

“Let me make it easy, yeah? What we’ve done, it has been fun, but I don’t want this.” He pointed at the tattoo. “I don’t want that with you. If I could reject you, I would.”

“Sorin!”

They both jumped at the booming voice, and Sorin turned to find Aurelian and Nicoleta on the path behind them. Nicoleta clung to the butler’s sleeve, standing half behind him with her hand covering her mouth. Sorin winced at the sharp disappointment in Aurelian’s eyes, but turned back to Nadaria.

Tears had welled, sitting on her bottom lashes, but she set her jaw. The sorrowful shine of her eyes nearly killed him, so his tone was softer when he said, “Not everyone can be mended.”

“You’re right. But only because they refuse to be.”

He sucked in a deep breath, so torn between the hopeful man he was when he was with her, and the apathetic man he was so comfortable being.

She held his gaze until he turned away and stalked back down the path past Aurelian and Nicoleta. He ran his hands back through his hair, holding them there while he walked.

“Miere,” Aurelian said, coming to her.

Nadaria sniffled and painted an artificial smile on her face, swiping at the tears that had blurred her vision. Her heart was like a dumbbell, too heavy to be pounding so hard in her chest.

“Aurelian. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

His lips dipped in a low frown, and he hugged her. “Ah, my sweet girl, asking about me when I should be asking about you?”

“I’m good,” she said, pulling away and waving it off. “I pushed him too much, and that was an emotional reaction to his past trauma.”

Nicoleta squeezed her hand. “But his words still hurt you.”

“I’m good, guys, really. Now, is there something wrong? You guys look like you want to tell me something.”

Aurelian and Nicoleta looked at each other and sighed. “We’re pretty sure we know where another jar is.”