But I quickly masked by laughing and calling out, "How do you like my little trick?"

The will-o'-the-wisps gasped, and a few began to clap and cheer. "How clever," called one.

"Do it again," cried another.

A will-o'-the-wisp with a bright blue glow squinted his tiny eyes in suspicion. "Why are you a frog?"

I let out a regal croak and glared at him. "I am the king of the isle, the marsh, and the beaches. Do you not think I can take any form I wish at any time?"

"Perhaps," he mumbled.

The wisp next to him elbowed him hard in the stomach. "Of course, king. A fine trick. Show us more."

A female wisp yawned. "Daylight is here. We mustn't tarry."

"Goodnight, sweet king," a chorus of wisps called out as they flew out the window and away to sleep in the hidden hollows of trees and the darkness of curled leaves.

The blue, male hung behind and circled me.

My long, frog tongue shot out and I swallowed the wisp whole. "Perhaps," the wisp had said. That was no way to speak to your king.

Two long days passed, and other than our brief dinner, I remained a bullfrog for nearly all of them. The physical and magical strain of my travel weakened me greatly. I could do nothing but rest and wait for my body to recover.

It was agonizing.

What were Hawthorne and my council up to?

I hated myself for hiding away in my chambers. I hated my body for being so weak. I hated my mind for not seeing a way out. Most of all, I hated the witch who had done this to me.

But she was dead. And her clueless daughter was in the other room. I would have gone out and demanded answers from her, but I wasn’t sure I should reveal my weakness. What if she truly didn’t know I couldn’t control the changes from man to frog? I would be giving her leverage. And I didn’t need anyone else to have leverage over me.

Finally, on the third day, I was able to hold my form as a man. Despite that, I was exhausted and depressed. I slept for what felt like ages.

Later, Harry stopped in with a dinner tray. "Oh, good. You’re awake."

He set the tray down on my bed, and I quickly appraised it. There was a slice of homemade bread, butter, roasted pheasant, a side of caramelized pears, and a goblet of milk. I frowned at Harry. I was not a child, and I knew when I was being cut off. Blighted milk.

I took an annoyed bite from my bread and decided to ignore that particular argument. "How is she? The girl?" I couldn’t bring myself to say bride. It was all too real.

His brows crinkled. "I didn’t see her at lunch. Maybe we should check with Rosie."

I rang my bell, and a small brown rabbit hopped in.

"Where is she?" I demanded.

"Out in the forest again, I’m afraid," answered the rabbit fae.

I set my bread back on the tray, no longer hungry. "After dark?" I asked.

Her nose twitched. "I’ve warned her, but you gave strict instructions not to confine her."

I sighed and rose from my bed. "Very well." I grabbed my riding cloak and moved swiftly to the door. Along the way, I wondered, had I taken a wife or a ward?

CHAPTER 14

The Stolen Bride

Ihad often read stories about places that seemed oh so dark and dangerous but turned out to be candy and sunshine. The island wasn’t like that.