Vivan (The Faithful Maiden)'s Story

The Prince’s Chamber; and then finally, the War Room

The maid passed through the halls, totting a steel bucket of beetles, worms, centipedes, and creatures that often spread their glossy wings to land upon her cheek. She squeaked as she shook her head wildly, her cinnamon strands flaring. The roach calmly fled her cheek before she slapped it and brushed her hair behind her ears. She had pulled the shortest straw, and though she had thought goblins made the best servants for a monster, here she was with the prince’s lunch. Most women would have screamed, cried, and begged for mercy upon seeing the bucket of insects she was carrying, but Catherine had been a servant of the Dark Court ever since her home was overtaken by evil merchants, and since she was sold into slavery. Catherine had never laid eyes on the frog prince before, although she had heard terrifying stories about him. Stories like how he had devoured one of the imps for accidently stepping on one of his frogs. In fact, stories about him devouring servants were quite common.

As Catherine carried the pail, her skin broke out in goose bumps and felt chilled despite the black sleeves of her dress, hugging them snuggly. The white apron that tied about her neck was smudged with the mud from the gardens when a previous servant before her had the duty of filling the bucket. She wouldn’t have minded filling the bucket if it was to spare her from being eaten by a monster prince, but then again, she might not have enjoyed the toiling work. Her gingerbread eyes gazed down into the crawling bucket, her face paling the longer she focused on the squelches and clicking of the creatures within.

With a foul odor building in the hallway, it became evident to Catherine that she was nearing the prince’s room. The smell was rancid, wet like a swamp and almost humid. She came before a door the color of human excrement and gazed upon the bronze knob that looked covered in some sort of greenish-brown sludge. Catherine reached out to grasp the knob, but then thought against it—her fingers clapping against her palm as she retracted her attempt. The pail lolled in her right hand like a weight as night crawlers pelted the black carpet and crane flies dispersed from it with the grace of pixies. Slipping her hand beneath her apron, Catherine grasped the slimy doorknob, feeling the moisture begin to seep through the material and pushed open the door. As it opened, her hand immediately abandoned the knob as her forearm rose to cover her nose, trying desperately to protect it from the funk that dumped from the prince’s chamber like a hot deluge.

“Ugh,” Catherine said in disgust.

The chirps of the frogs were like crickets singing in the night. The maid’s eyes lowered to the floor of the dimly lit room. A window veiled by a white, tissue-thin curtain bathed the interior in a deep blue as the silhouettes of amphibians of several sizes became accentuated by the golden light of the oil lamps that spilled into it from the hall. There was no furniture in the room. There was ivy along the white marble floors, a few bird baths that had frogs soaking in them. A dark pool was before the window with the curtain and the far right-most wall was a bed of tall grass. The prince was nowhere to be found.

That relieved Catherine as she sighed and kicked the door closed with the heel of her laced boots. She started over toward the pool, suspicious that it might have been too good to be true. The frogs watched her silently, their eyes upon the bucket. One hungry tree frog leapt from his perch on a bird bath to plop into the bucket of bugs, the noise startled the maid as she stopped and peered down at the creature.

In a flash, Catherine felt a breeze travel across her skin. She blinked her wide, copper eyes as they moved from the tree frog over to her flat tummy and the black lingerie that cupped her breasts and hugged her hips. The maid dropped the bucket in fright as she whirled around to gaze back at the door. Her arms crossed about her bosom as she glanced to her left and then right. A clear, cool fluid dripped from the ceiling to glide down the right side of her nose and dribble down into her tight cleavage. Her gown then dropped from the ceiling like a black and white blanket and slowly her eyes rose to gaze upon the back of a creature.

The back she gazed upon was covered in black, bulging warts that dripped with a slime that hung from its back in clear ribbons. The beast uttered a low croak that made her lips tremble until a shriek climbed its way free from her throat. A head budded into her sights as two glossy, yellow eyes gazed down at her.

Catherine’s mouth opened in terror. A shriek was building in her throat as her legs instantly became weak with fear and collapsed beneath her. The back of her hand rose inches before her lips as she bit back the scream that escaped her on timid whimpers.

The creature had been eying her quietly until her silence made him giggle. “Is this how you greet a prince?”

It then dawned on her that this monster upon the ceiling was The Frog Prince. Fearfully, Catherine lowered her hand and pleaded, “Forgive me, My Prince for we have never met!” She wasn’t sure what the right words were to say to such a creature. “I-I have a message!”

“Pick up the bucket,” the prince’s low voice demanded.

Catherine, feeling her muscles quivering, crawled over to the bucket on her hands and knees. There were numerous frogs huddled about it, gobbling up the bugs that had spilled free. She took the bucket slowly, making sure not to dump the rest of its contents out and held it within both of her hands. The prince’s cold tongue reached down to wrap about her, spiraling up her waist and across her bra before she was lifted to the ceiling. Catherine yelped and clung to the bucket until the prince’s large arm wrapped about her, and she settled upon his smooth pectorals. She clasped her hand over her nose and mouth as she thought she might puke. He smelt of garbage: eggs, rotten meat, and old sweat. Her thighs clinched tightly together as she gazed upon his mug. His wide mouth curled with delight and his eyes gleamed like amber. His pink tongue flicked out of his mouth to drag along his left eye as a string of slime snapped free upon its return into his maw.

“Since when did they start sending me humans? I’ve had only devils, imps, goblins, and gnomes, but humans? It must be my birthday,” said the prince as his chest quaked beneath the maid with his laughter. “Reach your hand into the bucket and feed me some of those delectable vermin. As you do, convey your message.”

Catherine lowered her shaking hand from her mouth and she reached deep into the bucket, frowning in disgust at the handful of worms and beetles she withdrew. She held her hand out to the prince as his mouth opened to clamp upon it. She felt his tongue scrape the bugs from her palm as she then removed her hand from his mouth to gaze upon the thick saliva that dripped like syrup from her fingers. It made her nose wrinkle in disgust, and as the prince munched audibly on his meal, Catherine suddenly remembered his request.

“The queen requests a meeting with all the members of the Dark Court,” she reported. She slipped her hand into the bucket to gather another handful that she held out to him.

“Mm,” the beast hummed with intrigue. He snagged the next handful from her hand and resumed his crunching. “If she requests the entire court, then it must be urgent.”

The prince’s vocal sac abruptly billowed enormously. Catherine pressed her hand against it as it nearly pushed her from his chest. A low croak escaped him before a belch gusted into the maid’s face as his sac deflated. Its volume made her wince as it left the prince’s throat like a deafening blast and speckled her bare skin in bits of worm, chitin, and wings. She then squealed in protest when his tongue lapped along her tummy and then up her bosom to her face, collecting the bits of insect.

The prince’s arm looped about her waist as he detached from the ceiling flipping right side up to land upon the floor with a thud that shook his entire room. The pail had tipped over to spill the rest of the insects across the floor before clattering off into a corner. The frogs crowded the spill as the prince released Catherine. She slid down his chest and round belly until she slumped to her knees at his feet. With an unenthusiastic sigh, the prince stepped past the maid over to his bedroom door.

“You will be my servant. If anyone else comes here, I will cook them in my bowels. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Catherine answered. She must have been cursed. What misfortune made her the primary servant of the prince?

The prince left the room, leaving the door ajar as his amphibian subjects hopped after him. He strode down the hall. His shredded trousers swaying against his thick, green legs and his massive hands dangled at his sides. His eyes blinked leisurely, seeming to meld into his skull before they swelled like two bumps upon his head. His black warts protruded from his shoulders like mountains descending down his back, and freshwater weed dangled from his navel.

The War Room

By the time the prince had arrived at the War Room, flies had gathered about his head and shoulders and the halls of the castle were permeated in his stench. His webbed feet slapped upon the marble floors of the conference hall, the sight of the queen, exciting the corners of his mouth to twist with devious content.

The prince then leapt toward the smooth table with the map of Fantasia sprawled across it. His form swiftly shrank into a round, ball of a frog that landed on the table with a splat. His frog subjects were entering the room behind him in waves, occupying the chair behind him, its armrests, and some joining him upon the table.

He had arrived just in time, and never too soon to stink up the room with his putrid perfume. He had chosen his frog form because his stench wasn’t as potent, but knowing that he was present was very evident. One just needed to breathe his very air.

As the mouse eavesdropped on The Dark Court, a large horned frog hopped in front of her. Its yellow eyes offered her a side glance, the hunger it felt when gazing upon her gleaming in them. The frog didn’t move. It instead waited to see if she’d twitch a muscle, which would be its cue to snap her up.

The meeting so far was sounding like a situation Goldilocks and her ward could handle on their own. Frosch was the size of a bull frog, his girth comfortably spread about him, making him resemble an amphibious blob, but he was quite comfortable as he listened to The Wolf go on in his strategic nonsense. All the queen had to do was tell him to handle it, and the prince would. His eyes sank back into his head as he kept his thoughts to himself. His attendance almost seemed like a waste of time. The meeting had interrupted his fun with his new servant.

Ivory/Snow White

Ivory was quickly loosing interest. She had decided that she didn't really care to hear what Pearl had to say right now, this resolve was further strengthened when she saw who had just walked into the store. Eyes flashing she smiled.

"You," she said darkly, "I've been looking forward to the next time we encountered each other."

Standing in the doorway was Vivian, the person who had tried to spy on Seven and almost paid for it with her life. The interesting part was that the woman had only almost died, most did. To this day Vivian was the only one who had ever gotten away from Ivory. Since then they had encountered each other a few more times and each time had resulted in conflict with Ivory only just missing out on a kill. Rather than being angered by this, Ivory found that she respected Vivian a fair amount because of it. It showed that Vivian had skill and it had become a game for her with the prize being Vivian's life.

"Shall we begin with the usual or do you have something to say that is worth listening to?" said Ivory, grinning wickedly.

Now that she thought about it, she didn't want to kill the spy, she would miss their encounters too much, it was one of the things that was always certain to give her a rush. Perhaps if she ever succeeded in besting Vivian she'd allow her to join Seven, Vivian would definitely be a good ally to have.