Alwin frowned. “That is oddly specific.”
“They’re the only things he truly wants. To be known and to be rich.” Otto had heard it countless times. “Was that what he asked for?”
“I can’t say,” Alwin said. “The magic doesn’t allow me.”
“You didn’t say it, I guessed it.”
Alwin half smiled, glancing down. “Indeed. I can’t stop you from guessing.”
The sight of that smile sent a small thrill through Otto, and he ducked to catch Alwin’s eyes again. “Glad we agree.”
“Well there had to be something we agreed on eventually,” Alwin said, voice lighter than Otto had heard it be in a while.
Otto realized his hand was still braced around Alwin, their chests still pressed together in the tiny space and their faces dangerously close.
“I think we might find we agree on more than just this one thing.” Otto’s throat constricted slightly, making his voice come out raspy and low.
He felt Alwin shiver against his chest. Felt the prim and proper prince image he put on wrinkle at the edges.
For a flash of a moment, he appeared human to Otto. Scared and confused and insecure and so many different, uniquely human things all wrapped up in beautiful green.
“Alwin…”
Spindly fingers caught the loose ends of his shirt. Rounded tips brushed against the skin underneath it for just a moment, a shock of cold and wet like the quick swipe of a tongue sending a flash of heat through him.
“Yes?” Alwin breathed.
Otto held that piercing green gaze as he lowered his head just an inch toward Alwin. Saw the green disappear when Alwin’s eyes slid shut as Otto’s breath ghosted over his skin.
So close.
They were so close, and it felt just like it had in the pond. Inevitable. Unstoppable. Otto felt his own eyes close, and all that was left was the feeling of Alwin pressed against him, safe and hidden in the tight alcove.
Their lips barely brushed, slippery skin under Otto’s mouth for a single breathtaking second before it slid away leaving dampness in its wake. A shudder of overwhelming feeling created a starburst inside Otto’s chest and he leaned in, hungry for more direct contact right as a door slammed somewhere behind them.
Otto jumped away, turning to face the threat only to find nothing but disturbed air and the distant chatter of voices unaware of them.
Alwin swayed on his feet next to him, and Otto turned back as he regained his balance, his soft expression hardening, hands smoothing down his ruffled clothes until there was nothing of Alwin left.
Just the Frog Prince.
“We should head back.” Alwin slipped around him. “Before anything else happens.”
Otto couldn’t argue with him, even though his first instinct was to press Alwin back into the alcove. But as he followed, he felt something precious had been left behind them.
They stuck to the shadows all the way home, and Otto pushed the pang of regret aside as they walked around the house to make sure everything was secure and untouched. Nothing seemed amiss, every window and door secure when he tested it.
Other than some faint boot prints, Otto had nothing definitive to work from.
“They left nothing behind,” Alwin said. “I asked my frogs to check and keep watch. They said someone came by to deliver something after I’d left to find you, but they didn’t get near the house.”
It must have been Old Henry, but there was no way the two were connected. Otto had been with the whole family.
“It could have been a passing traveler. We get many strangers making stops between the bigger towns. It wouldn’t be the first time one stirred up trouble,” Otto said, pacing up and down.
The rationalization wouldn’t sit right, however.
“You don’t sound particularly convinced.”
