Disclaimer: I do not own the Peasant's Wise Daughter or the Frog Prince.
You can not possibly understand the full meaning of frustration until you have been turned into a frog. This applies especially if you are a spoiled prince who has never once experienced things turning out any way but the way you wanted.
This situation happened to be just the one that the Prince Gilbert found himself in. Once the witch had left him he did what any prince would have done: he threw a tantrum. If you have ever witnessed someone throwing a tantrum you'll know it's not a pretty sight to behold-especially if that person is a frog.
The prince's wart covered face turned bright red. His mouth was opened as wide as a frog's mouth can physically open and the series of croaks that emerged from it were the most broken dreadfull croaks anyone will ever hear. The frog's body flailed in pure unadulterated anger and frustration. It is reasonable to guess the entire pond heard it- if not the entire forest.
It is for this reason that the prince did not hear the approach of a young woman.
The young woman in question was none other then the daughter of the old man the prince had just a few hours ago sent to jail. Her name was Rose or Rosie as everyone called her and there was not a more kind-hearted woman in all the kingdom. She had crease marks on either side of her mouth as if she smiled a lot and kind, loving eyes that could sooth the most frightened child or angry man. She was a hard working, woman who never gave up once her mind was set to something. She was not however, beautiful. She was simply plain. She held no charms in her dark messy hair or pencil straight form. However she was somehow beautiful to look at as all people who are truly good inside and out are.
Today, however, no smile would come to her lips. She was almost unrecognizable from the girl her father knew and loved. Today every bit of her from the inside out was in pain. For she knew of what had happened to her father and not only did she doubt she would find the pestle but she knew that with this delay there would be no time to plant and therefore no harvest to make it through the winter. And for this she wept.
It is odd how when a person is sad they become so lost in their own world and problems that they hardly notice anything else. Rosie was almost on top of the frog prince before she noticed the horrible croaking sounds which had frightened the rest of the woods.
"You poor thing!" she whispered as she beheld the red-faced frog below her. "And all I can think about are my problems." She thought reproachfully to herself, though she could not help but wonder what would make a frog so upset…she did not have long to wonder.
"Pick me up THIS INSTANT so I can see your face." Rosie jumped back in alarm. Surely she was imagining things. There was simply no way that frog could have just commanded her to pick it up. "Are you deaf woman? I said pick me up-NOW!" Moving as if in a dream Rosie bent down and put the frog in her hands. The frog stared angerly into her eyes, but as he did so he could not help but be momentarily taken aback. I have already described the gentlness and kindness of those eyes. They were something for anyone to behold. But for a prince who had never once in his life experienced anyone looking at him with compassion or kindness this quite literally took his breath away.
For a moment the prince and Rosie simply stared at eachother not knowing what to say. Finally the Prince broke eye contact and said in a voice that he simply could not make sound angry:
"Who are you?" Rosie suddenly remembered herself.
"Oh I'm sorry how rude of me! My name is Rose- but you can call me Rosie." She did her best to smile at him but with her name came the rememberence of all her problems and it was enough effort not to sob. She took a deep breath and politely asked "And who do I have the honour of meeting?" It took the prince a moment to realize she was talking to him because no one had ever not known who he was.
"I am the p-p-pr" and that was as far as he could get before the spell kicked in and all he could do was choke until he stopped trying. When he noticed this he gave a great groan. "Must have been part of the s-s-sp-s-." Followed by more choking. Rosie however had heard enough to realize what was going on.
"You're under a spell aren't you? That's why you can talk! You're really a person! And I'll bet part of the spell is you can't reveal your identity or talk about the spell!" She frowned sympathetically at him.
"You seem to know a lot about witch craft…you're not one yourself are you!" Rosie's whole face seemed to harden as she was forced to remember a certain night not so long ago when someone had accused her of the same thing.
"That's a terrible thing to say." She whispered. Then- with the frog still in her hand -she began to walk home.
Had the prince known Rosie and had he been not a Prince he would have instantly realized that Rosie was treating him to the silent treatment. Rosie had been very hurt by his comment for even though he had been almost nothing but terrible to her in the short time she knew him she couldn't help but like him simply because her heart was too big for her not to. Not to mention that in Phell the worst insult you could possibly say to any women was that they were a witch.
The Prince however was totally clueless to all this because being the short tempered prince that he was no one had ever dared use the silent treatment on him. He had also never been called on to say sorry before. When he was young he had been told all about when to use sorry but at the time he had thought it very foolish and had dismissed it from his mind entirely. He could never imagine that grown adults use this word very often in all seriousness. It was because of this that he never once dreamed of saying it to her on the way home. He had thought nothing of her: "what a terrible thing to say" or the hurt look sketched across her face-which was one he saw all too often for him to take notice. He was at first puzzled and then angered by her complete ignorance of not only his presence but also of everything he said. When you're raised under the impression that anything you say goes, the silent treatment is not one you can easily deal with. By the time they had reached her house the frog was throwing another tantrum even bigger then the last.
Rosie angerly walked into her house and roughly placed the frog in a small wooden box which he barely could fit in and slammed the lid on. Then she ran outside and completely broke down. Her sobbing continued all through the night.
Author's Note: Once again I find myself thanking all the wonderful people who reviewed! Thanks so much! I could not have done this so quickly without your support!
So I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you did let me know! If you didn't let me know! I will update soon!
Bye Bye for now!
