The Frog Prince and the Witch Chapter 18
Translated by MissQ (ko-fi)
Chapter 18: The Determined Prince
"Don’t do this, please get up!" Joanna’s voice quivered as she tried to pull him to his feet, but instead, Ian clung to her more tightly, burying his face against her abdomen. The intensity of his embrace left her overwhelmed and flustered. "Don’t you have family? People who love you and are waiting for your return? You should go home."
"But if I leave, I’ll never see you again! I don’t want to go!" The mere thought of never seeing Joanna again made Ian cling to her even tighter; she was his light, his guiding star!
What is happening?... Joanna could only see the crown of his red hair, vivid as autumn's maple leaves, though the man before her acted like a lost child. Could it be…when he was cursed into a beast, he had been quite young? Now, though his body had returned, albeit to that of a grown man, his heart and temperment remained that as fragile as a boy’s?
"Mistress… my mistress… " Ian’s voice was broken, his tears barely contained as he held onto her with pleading eyes. "Please, don’t abandon me! I’ll cook, I’ll clean—I can be your servant, your protector. I’ll fight for you, as long as you don’t send me away!"
Hearing his heartfelt pleas, Joanna became increasingly convinced that the man had been cursed for far too long, to the point where he struggled to think clearly. With a resigned sigh, she decided to treat him as one would a child. Gently, she patted his head and said, "I won’t abandon you. So, what do you say? Straighten up and don’t ever assume that posture again; it’s bad for your body. You’re no longer a frog—you’re human now. And be mindful to avoid wet and cold things."
"So, you’re willing to let me stay?"
His pleading eyes sparkled with hope, reminiscent of the little frog that had tugged at her skirt, begging to join her. Joanna couldn’t bring herself to refuse that earnest gaze. Smiling, she reached out to touch his hair, much like she used to when she would stroke the frog's back. "Yes. Now, rise up."
A smile broke across Ian's face, his laughter ringing with pure joy. He felt utterly satisfied, exhilarated; her simple affirmation felt like a powerful spell had been cast upon him.
However, as Joanna helped him to his feet, she noticed for the first time that his hands were somewhat disfigured. His fingers appeared as though they had been broken and poorly treated. It was evident that such injuries had been inflicted by that madwoman. This realization deepened her distress.
"Can you still remember your name?"
"My name is Ian, Mistress," he replied.
At that moment, Joanna felt it wasn’t the right time to correct his manner of address. She worried that rejecting his way of calling her might lead to another heartbreak for him. So she simply nodded, supporting him as they walked. She noticed that his feet bore signs of fractures, indicating he hadn’t healed properly. She feared that from now on, he would struggle to stand, and walking would likely bring him great pain. It struck her that during his time as a frog, she had never realized he was suffering from such injuries. In the end, she also couldn’t be considered a good mistress.
As they emerged from the forest, they found a carriage parked nearby. The coachman anxiously awaited the young lady who had hired his services. When he saw her approach with an unfamiliar man, his apprehension deepened. Yet, he didn’t flee. Though fear gripped him, the promise of a generous reward outweighed his worries. After all, the payment for this job would be enough to sustain him for half a month, even without working!
"Once we return home, the first thing I’ll do is heal you," Joanna promised, her concern evident. "However, I can’t guarantee that you’ll be completely cured, especially since your injuries are quite severe." She examined Ian’s hands carefully; despite their disfigurement, they radiated warmth, offering a stark contrast to her own chilly fingers. "Do you have any other injuries?"
"I may have some on my back and chest," Ian admitted hesitantly. "She would often strike me with a whip. Although her servants sometimes applied medicine, I’m unsure whether it has healed properly."
Whipping a little frog? How audacious! Anger surged within her as she gently caressed his back. "Such things will never happen again," she vowed, her voice firm. "I’ll give you a thorough check-up later to ensure that all your wounds are treated."
"Yes, Mistress."
Ian felt a profound sense of satisfaction; simply having Joanna’s attention was a source of happiness for him. As for the imperial castle, along with the concerns of his parents and brothers, he found himself wanting to forget them—at least for now. His limbs were already crippled; even if he were healed, he would never be able to use his hands and feet as he once had. He could no longer assist his brother in the army or take the lead in combat. Moreover, he was not particularly skilled at paperwork, rendering his presence around his brothers of little use.
If word got out that one of the princes had been cursed into a frog, the citizens might criticize their ruling monarchs as weak and incompetent for allowing such a fate to befall one of their own at the hands of a witch. There were not enough wise voices among the populace to discern that a weak leader and a cursed prince were not necessarily linked. Once such doubts took root in the hearts of the people, it would be all too easy for them to withdraw their support.
Ian knew he could not afford to become a burden to his brother, the Crowned Prince, or to his father. Perhaps he would consider visiting them after his father decided to remove the "King’s List" from the town’s bulletin board.
For now, let him indulge himself a little, serving his one and only mistress anew... the mistress who held dominion over him in every conceivable way.
