The Frog Prince And The Witch Chapter 9

                                            

What did the old woman say? The Witch of the Wilderness?

His dear G.o.ddess Joanna….is a witch?

"Little frog, what's the matter? Were you scared to see strangers?" She gently held out her palm to carry him. However, upon discovering her ident.i.ty, Ian backed away in fear.

His heart quickly turned cold. It was a crazy woman who had transformed him into a horrible creature. And that crazy woman was a witch.

It turns out that Joanna was also a witch…..So are the other pets in the room really pets……or are they people who were cursed?

Oh Joanna, my G.o.ddess, my master, you tell me! What are they really?!

When Ian's desperate questions fell upon her ears, Joanna could only hear his loud croaks. She a.s.sumed that he was complaining, blaming her for frightening him with the visitors. She caressed his back in amus.e.m.e.nt, "Well, later I won't let you be bothered by strangers. Is that okay with you?"

You are a witch! Why can't you see that I am cursed? Tell me!

"Don't be mad. Wait until you eat your potatoes, okay? I remember you liked potatoes a lot!" She still couldn't understand what the frog was trying to say, so she tried comforting him the same way she usually did with other animals—she would continue to caress him while speaking softly.

Finally Ian gave up this useless conversation. He struggled to jump out of her hands, then returned to the corner that he usually avoided.

He didn't want to think of Joanna as a terrible and hateful woman just like the crazy witch, however, he couldn't help but worry. The more he felt frightened, the more he wanted to act cold and distant. Staying in this room was a kind of torture; the vague sweetness of their past memories soon became a nightmare, and his body trembled uncomfortably.

His movements fell into Joanna's sight. She only thought that the small frog felt deeply scared. In the future, if any unwelcome guests come by, she has to properly hide him away. Moreover, the little frog who was usually eager to stay by her side was suddenly distancing himself from her. It seems he was really angry time this time. Should she make him some potato soup so he wouldn't be mad anymore?

Despite his dissatisfaction, Ian couldn't help but feel but feel as if Joanna's movements were lovely and gentle. Even her movements in the kitchen were light and quiet.

When dinnertime came, Ian was still plagued by heavy thoughts. The maiden was still unaware of his thoughts, so she took him to the table as usual. She used a small spoon to scoop up a bit of soup and was about to feed him…..suddenly, she remembered that frogs along with other small animals who dwelt near water were usually afraid of heat; cool things were the most comfortable for them. Having this in mind, she blowed on the spoonful of soup again and again until she was sure that it was cooled down. She then held the spoon before his mouth and entreated, "Come on, say Ah ~"

The frog habitually opened his mouth and took a sip, but when the wonderful taste of food brought him back to his senses, he immediately tossed away the spoon and spat out the soup.

This made Joanna worry.

"Does it taste bad?" She was very confident of her cooking skills which usually had the small frog begging for more servings. However this time he remained silent. She couldn't help but wonder if she had mistakenly used sugar instead of salt, so she quickly took a few mouthfuls of south to taste……No it tastes fine. Maybe the little frog doesn't like thick soup, and instead prefers the potato?" She couldn't figure it out.

Ian noticed that she was nervous; she tried tasting the soup a couple of times, and she even used the small spoon that he had smashed earlier. Now she tried feeding him again using the same spoon that she had just licked herself…..finally, he shyly took a sip of the thick soup, to which she responded with a relieved smile.

Aren't frogs considered very disgusting? And yet she maintained that same friendly smile, along with her gentle care for him……such a lady. Even if she was a witch, he couldn't help but admit that these were her qualities.

He finally reached out and touched her palm with the tip of his nose, silently asking for a caress. She naturally stroked his slippery back and began to converse with him with the usual, trivial everyday words……it was as if nothing had changed, except that now his attachment to her had deepened.

                                          

GROUP TRANSLATIONS: (for other translated works)