“Bring the fake goblet with you tomorrow night,” he continued. “After the queen asks her question, have Jason distract her, and make the switch. She won’t be any the wiser until the next night, and by then we’ll be long gone.”
In theory this seemed like a safer plan, but I wasn’t sure it would work. “How can I have the goldsmith make a copy that will fool Queen Orlaith? The pictures don’t give specifications. We don’t know the exact height, weight, or diameter.”
“Most people don’t check things too closely. I imagine fairies are the same.”
It seemed like a lot to hope. Especially now that Queen Orlaith knew someone had tried to steal the goblet. I turned the problem over in my mind, imagining different scenarios. If Donovan let me borrow his cloak, I could use it to steal the goblet. However, when the queen discovered the theft, she would notice I’d disappeared and know who’d taken it. She would undoubtedly take her fury out on Jason. As angry as I was at him, I couldn’t inflict that on him.
“How big is your cloak?” I asked. “Could it hide more than one person?”
“I doubt it.” Donovan picked up the cloak and draped half of it over me. It was damp—cold enough that I flinched and leaned closer in to Donovan. He wrapped the rest of the cloak around himself. Our heads both stuck out, visible along with half our torsos. “Nope,” he said and set the cloak on the ground. “But that’s okay. You won’t need to be invisible to make the switch. You just need to wait until she isn’t looking.”
Another idea occurred to me. “Rosamund has sleeping powder. We could find it and slip some into the queen’s drink. If she passes out, we’ll be able to take the goblet.”
“Or Kailen will know someone has drugged his mother, and he’ll turn every mortal there into a lawn ornament. He seems like the strike first, ask questions later sort of guy.”
Donovan had a point, but I still worried his plan wouldn’t work. “If Queen Orlaith even glances at the fake goblet, she’ll know it’s not the same one.”
“You’d be surprised. People see what they expect to see.”
“Most people would notice.”
“Trust me on this one. I’ve gotten by for years because I know how to fool people.”
The fire crackled, spitting out sparks that dimmed and blackened as they fell. “Maybe you’re just used to being around . . .” drunk people. Only I didn’t want to say that. “People who aren’t very observant.”
“You mean like you and the other Tiara Girls?” He shifted his arm so he could see me better. “Have you figured out how I got rid of my drugged cider?”
I hadn’t, even though I’d replayed the scene in my mind several times. Donovan’s cup was empty, and yet he hadn’t sat by a planter or any place he could have dumped the contents—not without leaving telltale damp spots.
I shook my head reluctantly. “What did you do with your cider?”
“While no one was watching, I poured it into Madam Saxton’s glass and she drank it.”
And Madam Saxton was too drugged to notice her glass had been refilled. I tilted my head back and groaned. The answer seemed so easy now. Why hadn’t any of us considered that possibility?
Donovan nodded, making his point. “People see what they expect to see.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.”
He shifted his hand on my back, holding me looser now that I’d stopped shivering. “I’m always right. Well, except in my choice of stowaway ships. On the way to the ball, how did you know I was in your boat?”
I wished my answer made me look clever. “It’s part of the fairy tale.”
“Seriously?” His head jerked in surprise. “Since you knew I followed you, I figured the last place you expected me to go was in your boat. Sheesh. What a waste of reverse psychology.”
“Why did you get in my boat on the way back?”
He shrugged. “It was fun to watch you and Jason fight. After all the stupid things he said to you, I expected you to tell him off. I figured you were just waiting for the boat ride.”
I hadn’t told Jason off, though. Instead I’d taken out my frustration by pushing Donovan into the lake. Stupid. Maybe Chrissy was right about me. Maybe I did keep my mouth shut when I should be standing up for myself.
Donovan tilted his head to see my expression. “You don’t still have a thing for Jason, do you?”
“If by ‘thing’ you mean admiration or respect— then no, I don’t have a thing for him anymore.”
Donovan laughed. It was a nice sound, low and masculine. “So what else happens in the fairy tale? How does the soldier explain to the princesses he’s not in the outer room when they get back?”
“They don’t notice he’s gone. I guess they never check on him when they go back.”
Donovan let out a grunt. “Who wrote this stupid story anyway?”
“Hey, we’re tired, and we drugged you. I guess it never occurred to anyone you might do something besides sleep.” I nudged him because he still wore a look that implied princesses were innately idiots. “The fairy tale has been passed down for generations. It’s classic literature.”
“Girls just like the story because it involves princesses, ball gowns, and dancing.”
“Yeah, and?”
He let out another grunt. “Girls have unrealistic expectations about life. You realize that, don’t you?”
“Is it our fault there aren’t enough princes around?”
Donovan picked up the last of our branches and added them to the fire. He didn’t put his arm back around me. Perhaps he didn’t think I needed his warmth anymore. Parts of my chemise were dry.
We gazed at the fire and neither of us spoke. It was cozy sitting here. Flames wavered between orange and yellow, lazily spreading over the wood. The tiny embers that flew upward reminded me of the fireflies we’d seen earlier.
Suddenly I was conscious of how closely I sat to Donovan, how our shoulders still touched. I stole a glance at his profile, secretly watching him from the corner of my eye.
In the warm light, he looked even more handsome than he had earlier. My eyes traced the curve of his cheek, the dip of his eyebrows, the fringe of lashes over his eyes. His eyes were blue, I knew—blue like the sky on a clear day. The night had darkened them, but the firelight reflected stars into them, making them look mysterious.
Maybe I’d been wrong to want a prince. Maybe a thief was the way to go.
I forced my gaze back to the fire. Was it normal to think this way about a guy who’d been my enemy a few hours earlier? Maybe I was still a little delirious. Or maybe I was just responding to the hot guy who saved my life and then put his arm around me in front of a glowing fire.
I glanced at Donovan again. He was watching me now, those same scales weighing me. I waited, holding his gaze, feeling my heart beat faster. Say something, I thought. And then, No, don’t say anything. Bend over and hold me close again.
His gaze lifted to the sky, and his eyes widened in surprise. The edges of the night were lightening, turning from black to grey. “It’s nearly morning. We’d better get back to the castle or we’ll be caught.”
Chapter 18
Donovan stood and helped me to my feet. I blushed and was glad he couldn’t see it. I shouldn’t be embarrassed. I hadn’t thrown myself at him. I’d just thought about it.
I brushed at a few bits of seaweed that stuck to my chemise. Dirt and pieces of bark covered my front, a result of carrying branches. I’d have to wash and change once I reached my room.
We put out the fire and then hurried along the trail, occasionally running as we raced to beat the sun. By the time we reached the staircase, the sky was nearing dawn blue and getting lighter every moment. What time did the king check on the princesses? Surely not at dawn. Kings probably liked to sleep in. Donovan and I sped up the stairs, our footsteps thudding on the marble. The meadow below us shrunk away with abnormal quickness. I felt like I was running through the sky and didn’t dare look over the stairs’ edge. My legs began to ache, but I didn’t slow down.