Disclaimer: Princess and the Frog belongs to Disney, not me.
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Maldonia: August of 1910
"I don't want to go!" he objected.
Arturo shuffled through a stack of papers. "Naveen, you must," he said absently. "Every prince of Maldonia has studied abroad."
Naveen hunkered down in the slippery leather chair in his papa's royal office. "I don't want to go," he repeated. "I want to stay here, with you and Graciela and Dominic. I like lessons with Dominic."
"You may like having lessons with Dominic, but he cannot teach you how to become a king," Arturo explained patiently. "The academy in England is for wealthy little boys and girls who will grow up to be leaders. It will be a good environment for you."
"But this is a good en-vir-ment for me," Naveen said, smiling brightly. "And so I shall stay here with Graciela and Dominic. But thank you anyways."
He slipped off the chair. His father grasped him firmly by the collar. "That was a good try," Arturo said, smiling in spite of himself. "But you are going to attend Sir Myles Cross Academy, whether you like it or not."
"I like it not," Naveen scowled.
Arturo set him down on the edge of his desk and sat down in the leather chair, eye level with his son. "Naveen," he said kindly. "The palace is not a good place for you."
"But I have lived here for five years," the little prince objected, holding up a small hand to demonstrate. "I like it very much."
"There are no other little children here," Arturo explained. "You don't have any playmates. If you go away to school, there will be plenty of other children for you to play with."
"I am fine," Naveen shrugged. "I can play with Graciela."
"You are getting too older for a nursemaid," Arturo said. "Graciela took care of you when you were a baby, but now that you are growing up to be a young man, you don't need her."
"Of course I need her!" he said.
Arturo shook his head. "Every crown prince of Maldonia has put his babyhood behind him and gone away to school," he said. "I did too. That is why I am a good king now, because I went away and learned everything I needed to know to become grown up and wise."
Naveen folded his arms and scowled. "I do not want to become grown up and wise," he said. "I am very happy now."
"I cannot continue to argue with you, Naveen," Arturo said. "I am your father and your king, and you must obey me, whether you like it or not.."
"I don't want to go!" he argued.
Arturo dipped a pen in an inkewell. "It is not up for discussion," he said, gently but firmly. "Your ship for England leaves next week. I have already engaged a new servant to replace Graciela. He's English."
"I don't like to speak English," Naveen protested.
"The king of Maldonia must speak several languages," Arturo said. "Our island is in the middle of several countries, so you must be able to speak French, Spanish, and English, besides Italian."
"That is too many languages," Naveen said, shaking his head.
"Lawrence will be able to help you master English," Arturo said. "When you're older, I'll send you on a tour of Europe so you can study further."
"And where will Graciela and Dominic be?" Naveen asked.
"They will stay here," Arturo said calmly. "You will see them when you come home on holidays."
Naveen scowled, but his father continued to write. He knew from experience that the discussion was over. He didn't want to leave, but there would be no dissuading his father.
October of 1910
"Daddy, can I help?" Tiana begged. "Can't I help just a little bit?"
"Tiana, honey, you're just too little," her mother said as she stitched lace around the collar of a red dress. "You can help Daddy when you're bigger."
James stirred the contents of the gumbo pot. "Now, Eudora, I reckon she can give me a hand," he said. "Babycakes, grab me that bowl of shrimp off the table for me, will you?"
The eager four-year-old picked up the chipped yellow bowl carefully and carried it over to her father. "Here, Daddy," she chirped.
"Thank you, baby," he said. He picked her up. "Now pour that into the gumbo as careful as you can."
She did so, the pale shrimp tumbling into the bubbling stew. "Can I stir it?" she said.
"Sure," he said, handing her the handle of the wooden spoon. She gripped it with two hands and dragged it through the thick gumbo. "Now, do you know why we wait so late to put the shrimp in?"
"Nah-uh," she said, still stirring.
"If we put it in too early, they'll get all soft and mushy," James explained. "And nobody likes eating squishy shrimp."
She wrinkled her nose. "Ew, Daddy," she said.
"Keep stirring, baby," he encouraged. "Don't let stick to the bottom. If it sticks, it burns."
She kept going, her short arms straining to keep going. "Is it almost done?" she asked.
"You tell me," he grinned. "Give it a taste." Tiana raised the wooden spoon. "Careful, it's hot."
She sipped it carefully. "It's good," she said warily. "But I don't know if it's done."
James snapped his fingers. "I know what it's missing," he said. He set her down on the floor, the wooden spoon still in her hand, and rummaged through the little pantry. "Aha!" He pulled out a little red bottle. "This is exactly what we need."
"Can I taste that too?" Tiana asked.
He laughed. "You can, but it'll burn your little tongue," he said. "Tabasco doesn't taste very good all by itself, but when you mix it in with something else, it can change the whole thing."
He uncapped the bottle and handed it to his daughter. "Hold onto it tight," he said as he picked her up again. "Now, Tiana, you just give that a little shake."
Tiana dripped a little Tabasco into the gumbo pot, cocked her head, frowned, and shook in a little more. "I think that's good," she said.
James gave it a quick stir and tasted it. "I think you're right," he said. "That's pretty delicious."
"Did you hear that, Mama?" Tiana said.
"I did, baby," Eudora smiled. "Now go wash up." She set down the red dress as her daughter ran off.
"She got that just right," James said as he tasted the gumbo. "Maybe when I've got my restaurant up and running she'll want to help out."
"You and your restaurant," Eudora smiled, wrapping her arms around her husband's waist.
He patted her hands. "We'll have it someday," he said. "Someday we'll buy up that old sugar mill, fix it up, and have ourselves the best restaurant in New Orleans."
"Someday," she echoed.
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Author's Notes:
Gah, little Naveen just gets cuter...
It's a short chapter, but hopefully the next one will be better. Let me know what you think!