Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
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Chapter 4:
"Is that not a fine specimen of a man?" Gretchen sighed, gazing out her window into the courtyard.
"I beg your pardon?" croaked Franz from his pan of water.
"Come and see," said Gretchen, beckoning for the frog to hop closer.
"What do you want me to see?" he asked as he scooted across the windowsill to stand at the princess's elbow.
"Sir Heinrich," she replied. "Look, there he is, watering his horse."
"Hardly a difficult task for you humans," Franz skeptically replied.
"Don't be that way," Gretchen admonished him. "I suppose, being a male and a frog, you couldn't possibly understand what I am trying to explain to you."
"I don't see that much explaining has been happening," said Franz. "But I'll try to grasp your meaning."
As you can see, Franz and Gretchen had become friends. Over a month had passed since that fateful day by the well, so their original squabbles had been forgotten. Gretchen enjoyed having a constant companion and confidante. It lessened the pain of losing her mother. She could not always tell whether or not Franz liked her, but since he had not yet asked to be returned to his lonely well, she could only assume that he was content.
Sometimes Gretchen and Franz walked down to the well and sat there in deep conversation, remembering the past. These were pleasant times. Franz seemed to be a very wise frog, and Gretchen could feel herself growing wiser. She hoped soon to be less of a "silly girl" and more of a "wise lady."
Franz often laughed at her. Gretchen didn't like it, but it had to be endured. She tried to laugh back at him, but somehow it never irritated him. This was her goal: to irritate the frog. But he seemed practically imperturbable.
Now, he was simply puzzled.
"What is so remarkable about this man?" he asked, peering curiously through the glass window at the tall, manly knight who was still watering his horses.
"He is handsome," Gretchen declared.
"Lord, help us," Franz croaked.
"And he is kind, and dashing, and romantic," Gretchen continued, fiercely defending the one she admired.
"Is he wise and honorable?" Franz asked.
"Well, I believe so," the princess replied, but she sounded uncertain. The frog noticed.
"A man is not admirable if he is neither wise nor honorable," he said seriously.
"I am certain that Sir Heinrich is an honorable man," Gretchen declared. "Whenever we speak, he seems very good."
"And wise?"
"And wise."
"Are you sure?"
"I am very sure."
There was a pause as both princess and frog continued to watch the knight. Then Franz suddenly asked, "When did you speak with him?"
Gretchen blushed, and the ugly frog's bulging eyes seemed to narrow. "We have spoken on many occasions."
"But when?"
"Often at sundown," Gretchen confessed.
"After I have gone to sleep?"
"Yes."
"So you sneak outside to speak with this honorable knight," Franz summarized. His fat, green face scrunched up into a frown. "I do not approve."
"Of course you don't," Gretchen said flatly. "You do not approve of anything I say or do."
"That is completely false," the frog said in blunt contradiction. "I simply do not approve of the silly, girlish things that you say and do."
"But you disapprove of my meetings with Heinrich."
"Because they are silly and girlish. And imprudent, I might add."
"What do you know of this?" Gretchen hissed. "You are a frog."
At last, she seemed to have affected him. Franz looked absolutely livid. You may wonder how a frog can look angry, and perhaps we readers could not tell, but after one has spent over a month in the company of a frog I expect one learns his expressions.
Glaring at the princess, the frog let out one enormous croak before hopping off the windowsill onto the hard, stone floor. He hit the floor with a loud smack that frightened Gretchen horribly.
"Are you all right?" she gasped, leaving the window to crouch down on the floor next to her friend.
"Don't bother with me; I'm a frog," Franz huffed as he hopped towards the bedroom door.
"Oh, please don't," Gretchen begged.
"I hate being a frog," Franz snapped.
"But we can't help that, so you'll have to make the best of it," Gretchen reasoned. "I'm sorry for angering you; it was unintentionally done."
Franz stopped and turned his mournful, bulging eyes to her. "If something could be done about it, would you do it?" he asked.
"I don't know," Gretchen confessed. "Do you think you'd be better off if you weren't a frog?"
"I do," Franz declared.
"Then yes, I would do it."
"Are you going to continue seeing this knight of yours?"
"I would like to," Gretchen said meekly. "I like him very much."
Franz continued to gaze at her for some time with his mournful eyes, then finally sighed and hopped towards her outstretched hand. "You are being foolish," he said. "But I suppose you will have to find that out for yourself."
"So I have your blessing?"
"Never. You have my permission, which is not nearly as good."
Gretchen stood with Franz cupped in her hands. "Well, thank you for that."
"I do have one rule that I think you ought to follow," said the frog.
"What is that?" Gretchen asked curiously. What more could the frog want?
"Do not kiss the man."
Later that evening, Franz watched through the window as Gretchen walked sneakily onto the castle lawn, clad in a dark cloak and carrying a torch. Heinrich met her at the well for the horses, took the torch, and swept her into his arms
The frog glared out the window.
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