Jason was breathing so fast he rocked back and forth. Could frogs hyperventilate? He gulped unhappily. “The other princesses live with you, right? So one of them should be able to break the spell.”
“You have to promise not to say anything to them about Donovan,” I repeated. “No one can know he’s been here.”
“I promise. I promise.” Instead of waiting for my reply, Jason hopped in the direction of the lanterns, making arcs through the air.
“It’s a long way,” I called. “I’ll carry you.” I ran to catch up, then picked him up and slipped him into my pocket.
“Hey!” He thrashed around inside my cloak until I opened the edge of the pocket. “Why did you stick me in here?”
“Where did you expect me to put you? I’m not a pony.”
He frowned, an expression that did nothing to improve his appearance. “You could carry me on your shoulder.”
“I’m not a pirate either.”
“Hey, Frog Boy,” Donovan said, coming up beside me. “Pipe down and sit still. We’re not out of the woods yet—pun intended—and wild animals live here. You wouldn’t want one to see you and think you look appetizing.”
Jason shrunk into my pocket so that only his eyes stuck out. “Wild animals?”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “You don’t look at all appetizing.”
Jason glowered at me and sunk back into my pocket. Muffled frog complaints came from that direction for the fifteen minutes it took us to walk through the forest. I ignored him and spoke to Donovan. Mostly we swapped stories about our high schools. It was easy to talk to him because he had a way of making me feel like my opinion mattered.
We went across the meadow, up the stairs, and finally tiptoed back into the princesses’ chambers. Madam Saxton was still asleep on the couch, snoring softly. I filled one of the wash basins with water, placed it on an end table, and set Jason inside. Donovan took off his cloak and instantly became visible again.
Now that Jason could see him, he watched dourly as Donovan and I sat down, close together on a couch.
“You’re supposed to be my princess,” Jason called.
“Sorry,” I said. “It turns out you’re not my type.”
Donovan put his arm around me. “Her type is awesome guys.”
I nudged Donovan because he was being mean.
“You know,” Jason called over, puffing up to make himself bigger, “I was really popular in high school. In fact, I still am. I’m loved in high schools across the world.”
“They’ll love you when we go back too,” Donovan said. “Who could resist a singing frog?”
I nudged Donovan again.
He laughed and held a hand in Jason’s direction. “What? The frog is moving in on my girl. He has it coming.”
I liked the way Donovan referred to me as his girl and smiled despite myself. “Be nice. It must be traumatic being turned into a frog.”
“I’ll be nice for you.” Donovan kissed my forehead.
I felt all glowy inside. Jason let out an angry croak, then sunk into the water so only his eyes peered out at us.
Donovan and I both laid our heads back against the cushions and talked some more. After a few minutes, he shut his eyes. He was tired and I knew I should leave him and go catch some sleep while I waited for my sisters to come home and untie me from my dress. Instead, I stayed on the couch. I liked sitting in the crook of Donovan’s arm. It made me feel like everything would work out, like it was an adventure and not a horrible, magical disaster.
I watched him sleeping, traced the lines of his jawline and cheekbone with my gaze. His dark lashes looked like an artist’s black pen strokes. I lingered on the slope of his parted lips and let the memory of his kisses warm me. If Donovan had been the one turned into a frog, would my kiss have changed him back?
What I felt seemed so genuine, made me feel so light and happy, how could it not be real? And yet, how could my feelings be true love when we’d only known each other such a short time?
The goblet said love was a choice, but it didn’t seem like I’d chosen this. My attachment to Donovan had crept up on me, saturated me without permission. I felt weak, powerful, and a dozen other sensations all at the same time. Could real love do more than that to a person’s emotions?
I told myself I would only shut my eyes for a second to rest them, then I’d go lay down in the back.
Donovan and I woke up when my sisters’ footsteps sounded on the stairs. We pulled away from each other, both disoriented. He turned on his side and pretended to be asleep.
I got to my feet, wobbling, just as Rosamund emerged through the trap door. The other princesses followed her, giggling and talking about the evening. If they had paid attention, they might have wondered why I was standing so close to Donovan when they came in, but they were busy relaying the compliments the princes had given them.
“Frederick said my eyes shined like two stars.”
“Hubert said the glow of my skin put the moon to shame.”
I walked over to join them.
Jason’s head rose out of the bowl of water, and then he hopped up on the rim of the basin. “Excuse me, ladies,” he called. “Could I ask a favor? I need one of you to kiss me.”
My sisters’ discussions immediately stopped, and they turned to stare at me. “Why haven’t you kissed him yet?” Rosamund asked.
“I did. Twice. It didn’t turn him back into a human.”
Several of my sisters gasped in surprise. Others gaped at me. Moving in one body, they drew closer to me, making a huddle of silky ball gowns around me. Beatrix put her hand on her chest in horror. “That means his love for you isn’t true love.”
Wait, was that what it meant? I’d been blaming myself for not loving him enough. Was it actually his fault for not loving me enough? “He thinks maybe one of you could break the spell.”
My sisters exchanged glances again. A few of them looked smug at the possibility. “He thinks he loves one of us more than he loves you?”
I shrugged. I couldn’t really explain that Jason didn’t realize it had anything to do with love. In my time period we read stories about princesses kissing frogs to turn them human again.
Jason jumped down from the basin and hopped along the edge of the dressing table. “Ladies, please, it will just take a moment of your time.”
Catherine eyed him archly. “And who, sir, do you implore for a kiss?”
Jason hopped closer to her. “You’ll do.”
Catherine gave a laugh and sashayed over. “Truly, I never suspected. I fear my heart is spoken for, but I will bestow a kiss on you, nonetheless.” She bent down, kissed Jason on his snout, and stepped back. I held my breath and hoped it would work.
Nothing happened.
My exhale was drawn out in disappointment.
Jason lifted one hand to check his status and swore. He waved his hand in Elizabeth’s direction. “How about you? This time on the lips. Maybe it has to be on the lips.”
She took a step back, fiddling nervously with her necklace. “Perhaps I shouldn’t. Percival might not approve.”
“Percy? He’s my bro. He won’t mind. Trust me.”
She took mincing steps toward him. “Well, if you insist.” She pursed her lips, hesitant, then bent and dropped a quick kiss on Jason’s lips.
He slowly opened his eyes.
“Sorry,” I said. “You’re still a frog.”
He put one hand to what would have been a forehead if frogs had foreheads. “Why isn’t this working?” He surveyed my sisters. “You are real princesses aren’t you?”
Philippa lifted her chin, offended. “Why, I’ve never heard such an insult.” She flounced off toward the bedroom and the rest of the princesses followed her lead, heads held high.
“Can you imagine the impertinence?” Mathilda said, gathering her skirts. “Questioning our paternity? ’Tis a good thing father isn’t here to witness this vulgarity.”