Once again, Jason struggled to push the boat into the water. I supposed that meant Donovan was stowing away in our boat again. That was what happened in the fairy tale. Although after I’d pushed Donovan overboard, I’d assumed he would choose one of the other boats for the return trip.
Around us, the princes pushed their boats into the water, picked up their oars, and rowed with long practiced strokes. “Last yet again!” one called to Jason.
Another yelled, “Don’t blame Jason. His boat is sentimental. It’s attached to the ground.”
All the other princes laughed at that.
I slumped in my seat and then straightened when my corset bit into my ribs. The clothing here didn’t allow for slumping. I wished I could take the thing off, curl up on the seat, and go to sleep. Or cry. Maybe both.
Jason gave one last concerted push and detached the boat from the shore. He sloshed a few steps through the water and heaved himself into the boat. With a few muffled complaints, he dropped down on the bench across from mine and dug the oars into the water. His stamina wasn’t nearly what it had been on the way here. The other boats quickly pulled ahead of us.
“You’ve grown weak!” One of the princes yelled to him. “That’s what comes of singing much and working little!”
Jason strained against the oars. “Sadie just weighs more than your passengers!”
“Thanks,” I said. “Thanks a lot.”
Jason glanced at me and pulled harder. “Seriously. How much do you weigh?”
This is not something a guy should ever ask a girl, especially one he is supposedly in love with. I folded my arms tighter. “I weigh as much as I’m supposed to. Maybe the other princes are right and you’re just not that strong.”
Jason let out a grunt, either due to effort or disbelief. “I have my own gym and a personal trainer.” He then went on to tell me how he worked his butt off every day exercising.
I nearly told him his butt was extremely talented since it could lift weights and play music, but I didn’t bother. Were all celebrities this shallow? I didn’t like the thought. I wanted to be more than just my talent.
We were silent most of the way across the lake. By then the other boats had long outpaced us. They’d already landed at the shore, and the princes and princesses had disembarked. The couples were saying their goodbyes, their silhouettes bending together to steal kisses.
I leaned around Jason to see the shore better. “I wonder if the other princesses will wait for me.” As I watched, they headed to the lantern post and then continued up the trail. “Nope,” I muttered. “I guess not.” I let out a sigh and hoped there weren’t places in the trail where I could get lost.
The princes climbed back into their boats and set off, rowing to the left side of the lake. Their portal back home must have been somewhere over there. Several called out to us.
“Perhaps you’d be faster if Sadie rowed!”
“Jason needs to harness snails to pull him!”
I leaned around Jason again and watched the princesses’ lanterns trailing off into the forest. “Is this as fast as you can go?”
Jason panted and dipped the oars into the lake again. “Until someone else rows, yes.”
Behind me, Donovan whispered, “He probably couldn’t row and chew gum at the same time.”
Great. Not only was Donovan weighing down the boat so that I lagged behind the people who knew the way home, but he’d also eavesdropped on Jason and me at the ball. Had he listened to all of Jason’s complaints?
I didn’t like the thought. It made me feel like a scolded child.
Donovan’s voice came in my ear again. “By the way, that dancing wish of yours was obviously magic well spent.”
Dealing with Jason had drained my patience. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with Donovan too. “Aren’t you worried I’ll push you off the boat?”
I thought I said the words quietly, but Jason cocked his head. “Why would you do that?”
Into my ear, Donovan whispered, “Because he’s a dufus. Go ahead. Push him over.”
I smiled at Jason apologetically. “I wasn’t talking to you. Donovan is on the boat with us.”
Jason stared at me blankly.
“Donovan. You know, the invisible guy I told you about.”
Jason gave the oars a yank. “So now you’re talking to your imaginary friend?”
“He’s not imaginary. He’s invisible. There’s a difference.” I automatically gestured to the back of the boat where Donovan sat, then realized it was a pointless gesture. “Donovan, introduce yourself.”
He remained silent.
Jason pressed his lips together. “Okay . . .” He glanced at the shore longingly.
“Real mature,” I told Donovan. “Make me look like the crazy girl who talks to imaginary people.”
The last of the princes headed away from us. “Ho! Are you waiting for the tide to take you in? Hurry or it will be noon before you reach home.”
Jason pulled the oars harder and yelled back, “Whatever. I’ll beat your sorry—” Then he added the name of the body part he’d worked off so often.
I leaned back and my shoulders hit Donovan’s knees. It was one more item on my list of aggravations. He’d kept me from getting the goblet, made me late to shore, mocked my wishes, and now I couldn’t even get comfortable in my own boat. I turned to him and hissed, “Why do you have to keep making everything harder? I really ought to shove you out of the boat again.”
“Don’t try it,” he whispered. “I’m prepared this time.”
It was as good as a challenge, and I was already frustrated, angry and irrational. In one quick move, I lunged toward him, arms stretched.
As it turned out, I should have controlled my temper, or at least believed Donovan when he told me I wouldn’t get away with pushing him out of the boat again. My hands made contact with his chest. As he fell backward, he grabbed hold of my arms. If he went over, he was taking me with him. I gasped in alarm and fought his pull. My legs flailed against the bench in an attempt to find something to hold onto.
This was another disadvantage to silk slippers. It’s hard to grab onto a bench with your feet while wearing them. In the end, my feet lost the battle. I flew over the side of the boat and into the lake. The water hit me with a slap, then embraced me with a cold, heavy grip. I plunged downward, into the darkness. I wanted to scream but had to hold my breath.
The weight of my cloak and gown pulled me deeper. I yanked off the cloak and let it sink. I couldn’t undo my skirt. I struggled with the lacings, still sinking, then gave up on that. I lifted up the edge of my skirt and pulled my slip off. It fell away like a giant dying jelly fish. The bum roll came off next, rolling down to its final resting place. My lungs ached, but at least I was lighter now. Kicking upward, I managed to break through the water’s edge. I gasped, coughing and sputtering. “Jason!” I called. “Help me!”
He peered over the side of the boat, oars raised midstroke, and let out one of his whiny noises. “Why in the world did you jump overboard?”
“I didn’t jump. Donovan dragged me over.” I looked around, even though I knew I wouldn’t see him. So many ripples and waves sloshed near the boat, I couldn’t tell where he’d landed.
“Yeah, sure,” Jason said. “I saw you dive overboard.”
I swam toward the boat, teeth chattering. Each stroke took effort. The weight of my dress felt like a hand tugging me downward. “Would you just help me?”
Jason reversed his strokes, guiding the boat to me. One of my coils had come loose and strands of hair clung to my neck and cheeks. Water kept sloshing into my face.
Jason held out an oar. “Here.”
I grabbed the end and he pulled me toward him. I reached for the edge of the boat, but it was too high. My hands slapped uselessly against the side.