[She takes the glass, because at this point, what choice does she have? Perhaps understandably, she won't drink from it at any point -- the entire feast is now damnably suspicious. Clearly, the Prince has taken the gloves off. Now it's time for the slapfight.]

[But here, well. All she can do is hope to lodge a splinter in his mind, something to nag at him, work at his mind -- and hope the Ringmaster has a plan that doesn't involve desperation.]

Well. If that's what you believe. If that's really what you're comfortable with, after everything. If that's true to who you are.