A Charming Hope (Hope Ever After, #9)

By Ashley Evercott

Can one find hope after heartbreak? 

After the woman he loved chooses his brother over him, Prince Devon vows to never love again. In a moment of anger, he insults the gods and is cursed to live as a frog until someone can break his spell with a kiss. The catch? The only person who can kiss him is his former friend who he slandered years ago. To break his curse, he must act as a matchmaker to the very woman he betrayed.

Princess Annelise yearns for a fairytale romance and saving her first kiss with her Prince Charming. However, her dreams are shattered when she discovers she is to be betrothed to Devon, the man who broke her heart. Determined to have her first kiss with someone else, Annelise sets her sights on a dashing knight instead. But as she and Devon work together to woo her knight, will their broken bond deepen into an unexpected romance? Or will their unresolved hurt keep them apart forever? 

 

"A Charming Hope" a retelling of The Frog Prince, is a standalone novella, complete with tropes like friends to lovers, matchmaker gone wrong, and grumpy/sunshine. It is part of the "Hope Ever After" series, a collection of twenty hopeful and uplifting fairy tale retellings. Each book is written by a different author so it can be enjoyed in any order. The proceeds from this series are donated to the O.U.R. (Operation Underground Rescue) to rescue children from exploitation and trafficking. 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashley Evercott
• Release date: May 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798985411522

Book preview

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Copyright © 2024 by Ashley Evercott

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [e-mail]

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Book Cover by Kayla Eshbaugh

E-book ISBN: 979-8-9854115-2-2

Print ISBN: 979-8-9854115-3-9

1st edition 2024

To the courageous individuals who battle against the darkness of this world in the name of love

Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.

— Maya Angelou

Contents

1.Chapter One

2.Chapter Two

3.Chapter Three

4.Chapter Four

5.Chapter Five

6.Chapter Six

7.Chapter Seven

8.Chapter Eight

9.Chapter Nine

10.Chapter Ten

11.Chapter Eleven

12.Chapter Twelve

13.Chapter Thirteen

14.Chapter Fourteen

15.Chapter Fifteen

16.Chapter Sixteen

17.Chapter Seventeen

18.Chapter Eighteen

19.Chapter Nineteen

Thank You

Bonus Epilogue

Hope Ever After

Acknowledgements

Also by

About the author

Chapter 1

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Devon

Devon despised the Festival of Hearts.

From the minstrels singing ballads of true love, to the delicate sweets one gifted their lover, to the red linen draped on every door frame—it never ceased to irritate him. It did not matter if the day commemorated the marriage between their Gods—Erus, the God of the Heavens, and Ghiana, the Creator of Gallia, their world—and the pure love their mortal children should aspire to; everything about it grated on his nerves. As if being there wasn’t insufferable enough, his blood boiled as he watched his older brother, Edrick, hold the woman Devon once loved in his arms.

The woman Devon thought he would marry one day.

Edrick sat tall and proud atop his white steed, cradling Celeste like a shiny new trophy for all to see. Every fiber of Devon’s being screamed in misery as he stared at their intertwined fingers. People cheered for the newly engaged couple and showered them with red petals as they passed.

Devon momentarily snapped out of his rankled stupor within the procession, and his horse, Bayard, dutifully clopped along the cobbled street behind Edrick, crushing the flowers beneath his hooves.

The sun cast its last rays across the city and the rolling hills beyond the city gates. Merchants sold sugared almonds and colorful sweets while jugglers spun red balls in the air, and vendors displayed flowers and paper lanterns shaped like red water lilies.

The golden carriage at the front of the procession held his father, King Algar, and his stepmother, Melinda. They smiled and played the part of a perfect couple in front of their people. Devon’s glare sharpened in their direction. How could his father propose to a woman after only knowing her for three weeks? Granted, they had been married for one year already, but it didn’t stop the loathing that crept under his skin. Mother had died a year and a half ago.

For a man who once claimed to love Devon’s late mother so dearly, he had no difficulty recovering from her passing.

Devon’s gaze latched onto Celeste once more. She tossed her coppery brunette hair over her shoulder with an elegant shrug. Her locks caught the wind, illuminating her ethereal beauty. Her deep brown eyes glanced behind her, peeking around his brother’s arm. Her expression grew rueful when they locked eyes before she returned her attention to the celebration.

Devon had summoned the courage to confess his feelings to her a month ago, and in return, she had responded, I’m sorry, Devon. You must have mistaken my intentions toward you.

His stomach soured as his hands clenched over the reins. For four years, he had pined over her and believed their friendship had the promise of something more. He’d studied her body language, smiles, and laughter and thought them all to be cues she was interested in him. He had been sure she returned his feelings but that she had been too shy to express them.

But then, a month ago, she informed him of her engagement to Edrick. The news had left him speechless. How could he have miscalculated? Perhaps he had been foolish to fall for her charms and believe they had a chance, especially when Edrick would be king one day. Why would she choose a second prince?

He glared at the back of his brother’s head. The dumb oaf had been oblivious to Devon’s feelings for Celeste. Edrick had been blissfully oblivious to many things. And Father also looked like a fool parading his new queen. They sickened him—all four of them.

Yet, despite his turbulent thoughts, Devon remained in his place within the procession. Father would punish him if he acted out before the Water Lily Lighting. Every year, tradition demanded they lead their people with the ceremony of lighting paper lanterns in the shape of red water lilies to set upon the lake waters. The ritual symbolized the pure love shared between their Gods.

A love he did not believe in. Not anymore.

After exiting the city gates, they reached a valley full of wild grass where a bridge spanned over a small stream running through the center. They ascended a hill toward a large lake shimmering under the dusky sky. Father and Melinda led their people around the lake’s edge and descended from their carriages. Edrick hopped off his horse and grasped Celeste by the waist, lifting her swiftly while she giggled in delight.

Look at you two! someone called from amongst their people, clapping at Edrick and Celeste’s display of affection.

What a beautiful couple, another said.

Devon attempted to avert his eyes, but everywhere he looked, couples walked hand-in-hand beneath the twilight of twinkling stars. His fists curled before he dismounted his horse. He’d had enough of this nonsense. The sooner the ritual ended, the better.

Servants retrieved the reins from him and led the horses to the side while other footmen formed two rows for the royal family to walk through. At the end of the makeshift walkway, a dais had been built in front of the lake with five plush seats.

When he and his family took their seats, their people gathered around the dais, and Priest Andleby began his speech. Greetings, citizens of Ludenwick and our beautiful country of Albion. His Majesty has graciously led us into our ceremony today—

Devon tuned out the rest of the priest’s speech, too distracted by the irritation simmering within him. Beside Devon, Edrick leaned over and kissed Celeste on the cheek, and she squeezed his hand with affection. Edrick then nuzzled his nose in her ear, whispering secrets and sweet nothings while she raised a dainty hand to muffle her laughter. Devon’s jaw clenched.

By the time the priest ended his speech and someone had handed him a lantern, the pain of Devon’s grinding teeth had spread through his face, clouding his mind. The candle flickered in the growing darkness of the night, and he stared into the tiny flame.

To love is to see beyond our own selfishness. Like Erus and Ghiana, may we find love as honest and pure as theirs, the priest declared.

Devon’s hands tightened over the delicate paper, and it wrinkled upon impact.

Your Majesties, the priest said and gestured to their lit lanterns.

Father and Melinda stepped forward to the edge of the lake. They set their lanterns into the water—a ritual Father once did with Devon’s mother. The paper water lilies spun and floated lazily upon the calm waters, glistening like blooming stars. As Devon watched, the sight served as a reminder of the mother he had lost and of a love that had not been unconditional or eternal.

Anyone could be replaced—even a queen.

As the heir, Edrick was next, and he crouched next to Celeste. He cupped his hands around her lantern and held it steady as she settled it atop the dark water. Edrick wrapped his arms around her waist when they stood and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

The crowd exploded into applause and cheering.

Devon’s grip tightened around his lantern. Everyone waited for him to finish the ritual, but the wooden support beneath the flower creaked as his rage burst to the surface. Why would they do this to him? Why would the Gods humiliate him like this? He felt alienated. Alone. Heartbroken. Jealous.

The threat of punishment could not hold him back any longer.

He tore the lantern in half. The candlelight extinguished with an eerie hush. The base fell apart, and he crumpled the paper tightly in his fist before hurling it out into the lake.

There. Are you satisfied? he shouted, whirling toward his brother and the woman who broke him. The question sizzled in his heart as he internally asked the same question to his Gods.

Prince Devon! The priest choked out, his eyes bulging. His face paled, and he placed a shaky hand on his stomach; he looked like he would be sick at the King’s feet.

His father’s eyes widened with horror. What have you done?

A stunned silence washed over the crowd. He felt the weight of everyone’s stares—their judgment and fear for what he’d done crushed him under its weight, but he refused to be ashamed or afraid. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Celeste placed a hand over her heart, acting concerned. Scoffing, he turned so he wouldn’t have to look at her face any longer. He would not waste another breath to explain himself.

As he stormed away, his boots echoed across the dais until someone grabbed his shoulder.

Devon, what is the matter with you? Edrick asked, his tone low with worry and accusation.

He shoved his hand away. Get off. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and Devon could feel the stirring of gossip spread like a disease. He did not care.

You’re making a spectacle of yourself, Edrick whispered, wary of those enraptured by the scene.

Let them see.

Devon— Edrick reached for his shoulder again.

He shrugged him off and spun toward him. Don’t touch me, he said between clenched teeth. His eyes flashed to Celeste. You have no right to call me your brother. You two deserve each other.

Edrick retreated, his brows furrowed in confusion, and Devon glared at him. It was typical of his brother to be so clueless.

Devon, his father said in a cold, stern voice. Father stepped forward, but his piercing gaze could not cut through Devon’s shame. There’s no running from this, son. You cannot escape from what you’ve done.

Devon ignored him and charged toward his horse. It was time to escape. To hide. None of the servants dared stop him without the King’s orders. But for a moment, his pulse raced, and he wondered if they would block his path anyway. Or would his father have the gall to command them to stop him—or worse, let him go as he always did?

His father said no more. Devon scoffed. He mounted his horse and urged him into a gallop, far from them all.

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Bayard tore through the valley, weaving around trees and leaping over streams under Devon’s command. The wind whistled in Devon’s ears, and the sweet, dark scent of the trees and grass filled his nose. None of it could soothe his troubled thoughts. They festered like a brooding cloud, ready to release a torrent of anger upon anything or anyone in his path.

He urged his horse faster, and Bayard’s breath heaved under the saddle. The animal had been trained to become a courser—a horse gifted with speed and tolerance for battle—and did as commanded. Dirt churned and spewed under Bayard’s hooves, and Devon directed him to where he knew he could find solace.

Behind the castle lay a small pond within the woods. When they arrived, Devon pulled the reins and tightened his legs around Bayard’s body. Whoa, boy, he said, and the horse slowed to a stop. Willow trees scattered the meadow, their branches swaying under the easy breeze. Their slender limbs fluttered over the pond full of croaking frogs, tall reeds, and cattails. Moonlight gleamed over the glassy surface, and Devon slowly dismounted from his horse. As soon as his boots thudded against the dirt, the frogs ceased their annoying croaking.

Silence, and an unsettling sensation, wrapped around his throat. His mother had shown him this place when he was a boy, and it had become a haven for him when he needed a place to think without being found. Tonight, something heavy stirred in the air, making him uneasy. Bayard must have sensed it as he began to stamp his feet and rear his head.

Easy boy, he whispered, but Bayard backed away from his soothing hands. The horse bolted into the thicket of trees in a whirl, leaving him stranded and alone.

So be it, he muttered. Someone else would find the horse later—the animal was too valuable to lose. With a sigh, he sat on his spot on a protruding boulder looking over the pond.

The nervous fluttering in his gut didn’t cease. His fingers drummed against the rock as he debated whether to follow Bayard’s example and leave the premises. Before he could decide, something buzzed in his ear. He swatted the thing away and leaped from the boulder.

When he turned around, a dragonfly with a long, slender, teal body hovered in front of his face. Its wings whirred like a loud drum, and he cupped his ears to block the sound. He flinched as it came closer, and horror seized his stomach when its small, bulbous eyes flashed a luminescent green.

Oh, dear Erus, he cried out and stumbled back.

The large dragonfly quivered and grew—molding and shifting before his eyes. Fear mingled with disbelief as Devon stared with a gaping mouth. In moments, a humanoid shape holding a white staff materialized before him. A dark, velvet cloak sat upon broad shoulders and flowed around the person like drifting waves. The being had blue skin and vibrant green eyes. Long, ebony locks floated around the male’s face as he hovered over the ground like the dragonfly he had been moments ago.

Indeed, it is Erus who sent me, the person said, his voice deep and commanding.

Devon had been educated on numerous topics, including the religious texts about Erus, the God of the Heavens, and his servants