“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.”

“Darn straight,” Darby said. “There’d be some frog shish kabob going down.”

“If father was here now,” I muttered, heading to the bedroom too, “the least of our problems would be explaining a talking frog’s questions about our lineage. Can someone untie me? This corset is like a mini prison.”

For the next few minutes we sat at our dressing tables unpinning our hair. Jason hopped from one table to the next, apologizing. “I wasn’t insulting you. I’m just trying to figure out why I’m still a frog. You, the one in the pink dress. It’s Clementia, right?” He leapt onto her table, scattering stray pins. “How about a kiss? I bet you could break the spell. You look like you’ve had a lot of practice kissing.”

Clementia let out a humph and shook her brush at him. “If you weren’t a poor woodland creature, I would strike you forthwith.”

Jason hopped away from Clementia and sprang onto Isolde’s table. He sat up as straight as he could and cleared his throat. It sounded like a cross between a cough and a croak. “I know I don’t look so great now, but where I’m from, the ladies love me. I’m a big hit there.”

“With your manners,” Isolde replied coldly, “I’m sure you’ve been given many big hits—all by angry fathers.”

Once our hair done in simple braids, my sisters and I moved into our closets to take off our gowns. We left the door ajar to let more light in. I hadn’t expected Jason to follow us inside, but almost immediately, he appeared in front of the door. “One of you must want to kiss me—”

Penny shrieked and held her skirt against her body. “Peeping Tom!”

Philippa had just taken off her slippers. She threw one in Jason’s direction. “Out, cad!”

“But I only—” Jason started. The second slipper hit the floor and would have bounced into him if he hadn’t hopped away.

“Silence!” Rosamund hissed. “The guards will hear you!”

Before she finished the sentence, a knock sounded on the outer room’s door, and a guard called, “Is all well inside?”

The princesses had undressed quickly before, but now the sleeves, bodices, and skirts came off in a blur of color and frantic swishes of silk. Rosamund finished pulling on her nightgown and hurried toward the door. “Everything is as it should be,” she called to the guard. “I had a nightmare and yelled in my sleep. That’s all. We are well and accounted for.”