The two classes Ingrid had after lunch, crownculus and geografairy, seemed like they would end up her least favorite. While that outlook probably had to do with how miserable she had felt during lunch, what with the fairytale heroines squealing and sniping about everything, Ingrid still couldn't stand even the idea of the two classes, which had nothing to do with magic or stories. Ingrid had always loved to listen to stories, especially the ones that weren't hers. Ingrid sat down in the back of the penultimate class and waited, her cheek resting on her fist.
As the rest of the students slowly trickled in, each fairytale sat down by their friends. The Royals were, thankfully, dead center and ignorant of Ingrid's position. As much as Ingrid had always wanted to be accepted and befriended, she had never known that having people like her took so much effort. It had felt so natural with Greta.
The last Fairytale to make it to class was a freckled prince who quickly stuttered out an apology and turned to a frog in a flustered poof! The other fairytales groaned and rolled their eyes as if they had seen this particular spectacle a thousand times, but in her back corner, Ingrid laughed for the first time in what felt like far too long. Madame Maid Marian rolled her eyes and continued writing on the chalkboard without pause for the prince.
"Please find an empty seat and sit down, Hopper." The frog bowed as well as he could to the teacher without a hint of irony and proceeded to leap up the steps one by one, searching for an empty seat. The prince was, at best, a third of the way up the stairs, and Ingrid was almost certain he was sweating. Looking down at the rest of the packed lecture hall, Ingrid knew the poor frog would have to hop all the way up the stairs to find the only empty seat, the one by her. As innocuously as she could, Ingrid stepped lightly down the stairs until she reached the frog. Without a word she picked him up and cradled him in her hands as she rushed back to her seat. She placed him on the desk beside her and promptly stuffed a caramel into her mouth, just in case he tried to talk to her, or something else awkward like that.
"I thank you for your assistance, my fair friend. There is, admittedly, some difficulty in transporting myself when my limbs are so small in comparison to even one step of those stairs," the frog said. "I, am Hopper Croakington the second. Who might you be, fair maiden?" Ingrid stopped mid-chew to raise an eyebrow and swallow the large lump of candy in her mouth.
"Uh. My name's Greta. Hi." The frog bowed, the strange-looking action giving Ingrid a smile she refused to fight.
"Greetings, my fair friend. While I do not wish to impose upon you, I must ask that you do unto me one more act of kindness." The frog looked up in what looked, to Ingrid, like shame. Ingrid felt a pang of sympathy.
"What is it?"
"I require a kiss to regain my human form. I would be ever so grateful if you were to bestow it." Ingrid blinked, stunned. She shrugged.
"Whelp," she said and swooped down to peck the frog on his lips. In another poof he was once again the freckled prince who had run into the room late, and before Madame Maid Marian could spot him sitting on a desk table he leapt down at sat in the chair next to Ingrid's. She expected an eloquent 'thank you' to spill out of the boy, but instead he blurted out:
"Your mouth tastes like candy." Automatically his hands flew up to his hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. He opened his mouth again, only to be cut off from whatever he had planned to say by a burst of laughter from Ingrid. As she covered her mouth and blushed when some of the nearby students shot her dirty looks for interrupting class, Hopper's hands pulled away from his hair and he smiled. Once Ingrid calmed down and wiped away all her tears from laughing too hard, she smiled back at Hopper.
"Do you want some?" Hopper's brow furrowed.
"Uh, 'some' what?"
"Candy." She held out a dainty hand, which cradled in it's palm a pristinely wrapped hard candy. He thanked her and took the candy, and as he looked over Ingrid properly for the first time, he couldn't stop the word princess from popping into his mind. He wondered which fairytale she was from as he turned the candy over in his mouth for a moment.
"So, uh, are you a princess?" Ingrid cocked her head at the question, and considered telling Hopper the truth.
"No, I'm the daughter of the Evil Witch from Hansel and Gretel." Hopper would stumble out of his chair and away, choking and spitting out the candy as quickly as he could. He likely wouldn't talk to me again.
"No, I'm Gretel's daughter." Hopper nodded and sucked on the hard candy contemplatively. She's not even Royal. Bummer, I was way off.
"Oh yeah, I know your brother. He's pretty cool." Ingrid nodded, unsure of what else there was to say, but happy that there was a Royal who didn't seem to hate her pseudo-brother. Ingrid liked Hans, he seemed nice. Once the bell rang for the end of the period, Ingrid stuffed her notebook into her bag.
"Which class do you have next?"
"Geografairy with Professor Nimble. What about you?" Ingrid smiled.
"Same. Can you show me where the class is? I have no idea where I'm going."
"Sure." As Ingrid walked out of the classroom with Hopper, she decided that she actually liked her last two classes of the day. Who knows, she thought, maybe the royals really aren't so bad once you get to know them.