Painted Roses

Pretender to The Throne

The Frog didn't speak for a while as he stared down at the miniature before him and Rosalia wasn't the one to break the silence. She sat back on her heels, dusting the dust from her dress and hair before folding her hands on her lap and looking at him.

After a time, The Frog looked from the miniature up to the large portrait on the wall above them.

"The artists are different."

Rosalia blinked. She hadn't expected that to be his comment. She looked up at the portrait as well.

"Yes, so it would seem," she said, looking back at the miniature, "this one was painted by Luka. I don't know who painted the other."

"It has the brushstrokes of a woman."

Rosalia raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? I didn't realise one could tell the difference."

"How did you come across this miniature?"

"I was discussing Luka's siblings with him and he gave him that. It seems I forgot to replace it in the gallery."

The Frog looked at her. "You asked after his siblings?"

"Well, his brothers," she corrected.

"And what did he say?"

"He said that Grey was a wild one."

The Frog looked down. "And his other brother?"

"He said that Braydon was a coward."

The Frog tuned his face away and slowly pushed the miniature back towards her.

She reached forwards, picking it up, gently cleaning it off. "So is it true?" she asked.

"What?" asked The Frog.

"Are you a coward?"

The Frog's head snapped up to look at her and she calmly slipped the miniature back into her pocket.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, his voice strained, a forced calm.

"Are you a coward, as Luka said?" Rosalia asked, turning at look at him again. "Or, as Joshua said, are you perfect?"

"I don't know what you mean," The Frog said, turning away. He made to hop and Rosalia caught him mid-bound, pulling him back to her, setting him on her lap, her hands staying where they were. "Miss Rosalia!" he snapped.

"Am I wrong?" she asked softly.

"That is quite enough! Unhand me, I wish to leave!"

"All you have to do is tell me I'm wrong," Rosalia said, "just correct me. Was my educated guess uneducated?"

"Miss Rosalia!"

"Am I wrong in my assumption?"

"Let go!"

"Braydon," she snapped and The Frog automatically looked up at her.

The horror in his eyes when he realised his error forced her to release him. He launched out of her lap, bouncing to the other corner of the table and then stop, looking down at the floor. Before her eyes, he appeared to shrink, his head bowing, his shoulders curling in on himself.

Rosalia put her hand to her heart as she felt it tighten. "Bray-" she started, reaching for him before she stopped. "Mr. Frog," she said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... forget I said anything. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, it was wrong of me to push."

She took hold of her skirts, making to stand.

"I didn't want you to know."

She paused, looking at The Frog. He didn't look at her, his head bowing further.