Her intense gaze bored into him as if trying to see inside him, trying to ascertain some secret he wasn’t aware he was keeping. It was a calm, calculating look that offered him a glimpse at the woman she must have been before the curse, before the sea witch. When she was a daughter of Triton. A princess of the sea.
Then she turned away and the spell was broken.
“Are you certain this is how it’s supposed to look?”
The servant glanced up at the mirror. She paused, the ties in her hands going limp as she momentarily stopped pulling them back. “Oh, yes, Milady. You look beautiful.”
Marcela gave her reflection a dubious look, but Patricio couldn’t help agreeing with the servant. The beautiful green gown made Marcela’s eyes shine like an emerald lying on a bed of fresh spring leaves. The bodice hugged her ample breasts, and accentuated the curves of her generous hips. Delicate gold ropes wrapped around her body under her breasts then swirled around her stomach, and finally ended in a knot between her hips. The ends hung down between her legs.
Patricio’s palms warmed, remembering how those curves had felt cradled against his body. Her soft, small form had fit perfectly in his embrace, allowed him to curl his body around her as if he could protect her from the chaos waiting for her after she woke up. There’d been a few times she’d stirred, threatened by some nightmare, and he’d had to whisper to her, rock her slightly in the water until she settled. At one point, she’d snuggled closer and even in the cool sea water, his body had heated and he’d had the ridiculous desire to wake her up with a kiss.
Bloody cold has obviously moved to my brain. Patricio rubbed the bridge of his nose, then cursed as the pressure sent another wave of pain through his head.
“It’s a little…snug.” She pursed her lips. “You’re absolutely certain this is how it’s supposed to look?”
“You look amazing.”
Marcela glanced at him, then quickly away, but not before Patricio noticed a slight blush on her cheeks. He had a ridiculous moment of satisfaction that she was flustered. It was the first crack he’d seen in her calm façade since she’d woken up.
“Milady, you will be the most precious jewel in all of Meropis,” the servant promised.
“At least it hides the legs,” Marcela said under her breath.
Patricio chuckled.
“What’s that there?” She pointed to a swath of gold material draped over a dressing screen.
The servant followed her gesture. “That’s a shawl, milady. But you won’t need it today, it’s such a lovely day.”
“May I see it?”
Immediately, the girl fetched the article of clothing. Patricio observed with interest as Marcela took it and held it while she scrutinized her reflection. After a few moments, she started wrapping it around her, trying different angles. Finally, she got it where she wanted it. It draped over her shoulders with one end flipped back over the opposite shoulder. The effect was a pleasant shimmering swath of fabric that unfortunately covered her chest. Patricio stifled his disappointment, then immediately chastised himself for being disappointed in the first place.
“At least now I look less like a sponge with seaweed bound around it.” She turned, looking at herself from different angles.
Patricio opened his mouth to object to her description, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak.
“I wish something could be done about…those.”
Patricio followed her gaze to her feet, bared as she lifted the dress to glare at them. The shoes matched the dress, but even he had to admit they looked horribly uncomfortable. The feet were small and pointed, with intricate straps climbing her legs in a crisscross pattern. He was about to tell her he didn’t care if she went without shoes, but Marcela stepped away from the mirror and pitched to the side, tumbling off balance. The servant girl squeaked and leapt to help support her before Patricio could get to his feet.
“Milady, are you all right?” she asked anxiously. “Maybe you should sit down.”
“No, no, I’m all right. I just lost my balance a bit.”
“You were walking very well earlier.” Patricio glared at her shoes. “It must be the shoes.”
“I’m sure I can manage.” Marcela stepped away from the servant girl, wobbling only slightly before she regained her balance. “Now let’s go. You promised to take me into the village.”
“You’re sure you feel up to this?” He took in her cheeks, flushed blood red, screaming her embarrassment. Her words hissed out through clenched teeth and if she clenched her jaw any tighter, it would surely crack. Patricio couldn’t decide whether to shake his head at her stubbornness, or applaud her determination.
“I’m positive,” Marcela barked.
She stiffened. Her chest rose and fell as she took several deep, steady breaths. Her lips tightened into a painful looking smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I appreciate your concern, but I’d like to go into the village as planned. I have a good friend who used to visit me at the shore, and I’d love to find her. This is one surprise visit she’ll never forget.”
Patricio looked into Marcela’s blue-grey eyes as if he could pierce the brittle front she projected. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who had huddled like a child in his arms all night, sniffling and whimpering in her sleep. Part of him was glad she’d pulled herself together. The other part was uneasy, well aware that the raging pool of emotions he’d glimpsed last night was still there behind the dam she’d built. Waiting for the smallest crack.
He sneezed again and cursed to himself. Women. This was why he didn’t socialize. And now you’re going into town. You’ll be surrounded by people. Staring, whispering, bowing, and curtseying. Tension curled around the base of his spine and he fought back a sigh. Best to get it over with.
A few strides carried him to Marcela. She squeaked as he leaned down to pick her up.
“What are you doing?”
He paused. Marcela’s façade wavered and her eyes had gone a little too wide. The dam is weaker than I thought. Zeus, save me. “I thought you wanted to go into the village?” he said carefully, keeping his voice light and calm.
Marcela glanced back at the door, then at him. “Well, yes, but… You mean you’re going to fly me there?”
Patricio flushed and looked away.
“What?” Marcela prodded.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t fit in the carriage,” he mumbled.
“I’m sorry?’
He crossed his arms and met her eyes. “The royal carriage.” He gestured to his seven foot height then pointed at his wings. “I don’t fit inside.” He shrugged. “And for some reason it makes the coachman nervous if I sit next to him.”
Marcela burst out laughing. Patricio jumped in surprise. His jaw dropped slightly as the sea maiden fought to contain her mirth, her green eyes shining at him as she laughed. Little by little, he smiled. Soon it turned into a chuckle. Then they were both laughing.
“All right, all right. If you’re through mocking me, perhaps we can get on with it? While we’re in the village, you can pick out your own dress.”
Marcela groaned. “Really, I’ve already got one. Do you think I’ll need another?”
Patricio shrugged. “I believe it is customary to wear a different outfit every day.”
Marcela rolled her eyes. “What a hassle. I’ll never understand humans’ issues with nudity.”
Patricio’s lips parted, but no sound came out. He raked his gaze over her body, unable to help himself from remembering the feel of her naked body against him after he’d pulled her out of the water. The room grew several degrees hotter.
“Umm…I guess we should get going.”
Marcela’s voice was husky and the sound twisted something low in his body, heated his blood until it was difficult to think straight. He had a flash of what that voice would sound like thick with passion, whispering pleas next to his ear…
It had been a long time since he’d taken anyone to his bed.
Not since he’d become prince of Meropis. Casual dalliances were next to impossible now that he was royalty, and he could hardly go incognito. Besides, after watching Zeus’ philandering, carnal pleasure had seemed like a base act somehow. Now, looking at Marcela and remembering the small taste he’d had of her, he was suddenly hyper-aware of every hour of his abstinence, along with a growing need to bring it to an end.
Marcela’s skin was bright red and Patricio blinked as he realized he’d been leering at her. He blushed himself as he realized the servant girl was staring at both of them with wide eyes, wringing her hands as if terrified of witnessing their private moment but too afraid to leave without being dismissed. He cleared his throat and stepped up to Marcela. “Allow me.” He offered a small bow.
She nodded silently and averted her gaze as he picked her up. Neither said anything as he strode to the balcony, climbed up onto the rail, and leapt off.
He flew out around the palace, circling the peak of the cliff as he climbed higher into the air. He let the familiar caress of the wind soothe his mind and body, taking deep breaths as he found the rhythm of the current. Marcela took in the view with her lips parted.
“It’s breathtaking. From the water, the human buildings always seemed so enormous. Your castle always looked like it was reaching into the clouds. From here, everything looks so small.” She gestured to the scenery below then quickly grabbed hold of his neck with both arms.
Patricio settled her more firmly against him. “I would never drop you, Marcela. I promise you, you are safe.”
She relaxed, and that small gesture of trust struck him like a gust of wind. He blocked out the voice in his head taunting him that perhaps Eurydice had indeed found Marcela for him, perhaps she was the one—
“I’m used to seeing the world like this,” he said aloud, drowning his thoughts with his own voice. He paused then turned to her. “It never even occurred to me that flying might be scary for you.”
“I’m all right,” Marcela assured him. “I’m not by nature a fearful person. You can’t be when you’re a part of the royal guard.”
“You’re a member of the royal guard?”
Marcela raised an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m the daughter of Triton, I’m expected to be a member of the guard. My people would not tolerate lazy royalty.”
“That’s…admirable. After I became the prince, everyone expected me to stop doing everything.” He scowled, remembering all the kerfuffle he’d cause when he’d been made prince. “Apparently, in Meropis, it is customary for the prince to engage only in political activities and sit around discussing philosophy and such. The king was quite confused when I told him I had to continue performing my duty.”
As soon as the last word left his mouth, Patricio stiffened. Things were going so well, now was not the time to mention the duty that had led him to kill her brother. Especially not now that she’d broken the witch’s curse. Patricio winced. It had been a long time since he’d had to deal with a bereaved loved one. And he hadn’t been very good at it before.
“You said after you became the prince.” Marcela changed the subject easily, obviously as eager as he to avoid the contentious topic. “Weren’t you born the prince?”
Patricio clenched his teeth. There it was. If he’d needed any proof that he was not meant to invite another into his life, he had it now. It would always come back to the blood he spilled, always come back to what he had to do. There would be no small talk, no pretending that he was merely another royal attending balls and christening ships. He was a bringer of death and that’s all he could be.
“Did I say something wrong?” She leaned back and looked at his face, her eyes twitching as she tried to read his expression.
“No.”
The word came out harsh, sudden. She flinched. Immediately, Patricio sighed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He stopped. Might as well get it out there. Better to scare her off now. “I killed the king’s son.”
It took a few moments, but he waited and eventually understanding dawned on her face. “The king was affected by your…”
“By my curse.” Patricio confirmed. “The old man sang my praises over his son’s dead body. He made me prince by royal decree.” The king’s praise echoed in his ears down the hallway to the past and every nerve in his body coiled tighter. The king’s praise had been salt in a wound, but still when he thought back to that day, what he remembered most was the feast the sinful prince had been. So much sin, thick and sweet. It had been wondrous.
“That must have been painful for you.”
Patricio’s body dipped as he dropped the current and was buffeted to the side. He clenched his jaw and adjusted his wings, finding his rhythm once again. He never took his eyes off Marcela, searching her face as if he could read the meaning beneath her words.
“If Eurydice has worked as hard to bring that woman into your life as she did with Loupe, and Irina, and Ivy with the rest of us, then she very well may be the person to see you for who you are and love you for it.”
He pushed away the memory of Adonis’ words and the traitorous hope they brought with it, and forced a smile. “Let’s not talk about me. I want to hear more about you. What do you do in the royal guard?”
Marcela tapped a finger against his neck, but allowed the change in subject. “Well, my main duty is to look after the ships that sail out over our seas. If there’s a storm, or really, even if a ship is only out for a short voyage, we keep an eye on it. If someone falls overboard, we step in to help them get back on their ship.”
“It’s very kind of you to look after others like that.” Patricio dipped his head respectively. “I’m a little surprised your father cares so much for people beyond his own kingdom.”
Marcela bit her lip for a moment then shrugged. “To be honest, there is a little selfishness to it. We rely on good relations with the land dwellers to keep them from dumping rubbish into the water or overfishing. We also have several animals under our protection and it’s easier to protect them if we make arrangements with the humans not to kill them in the first place.”
A sudden gust of wind swept over them. Marcela gasped.
“Are you cold?” Patricio kicked himself for not thinking of getting a cloak for Marcela to protect her against the wind.
“No,” she said breathily. “It’s just the wind… For a moment, it felt like I was underwater again, the current rolling against me.” Her gaze turned to the ocean, shining like a wash of fine blue silk off to their right. “I’m feeling a little homesick.” She swallowed hard. “I can’t believe…” Her voice broke and she shook her head.
“You can’t believe you gave it up for me.”
She shrugged.
Patricio was silent for a few moments. Part of him instinctively wanted to point out that her decision hadn’t been his fault, that he hadn’t done anything to encourage her to give up her tail for him. But Marcela wasn’t blaming him—hadn’t since she’d woken screaming from her nightmares. He didn’t know if she truly didn’t hold him at fault or if she simply didn’t think she’d gain anything by saying it out loud, but either way, he owed it to her to be similarly considerate.
An idea formed in his mind. Patricio banked in the air, sailing lower over the sea. He started to shift Marcela in his arms and she tightened her hold.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
“I’m going to lift you over my head. Lie down on my back and hold on to my shoulders.”
“I can’t swim!” She tightened her grip on his neck, stubbornly refusing to budge. “If not for the cuelebre, I would have drowned as soon as the witch took my tail. You can’t mean to put me in the water.”
“Marcela, I will not drop you. You must trust me.”
For a moment her body remained stiff and awkward. Once again she paused, taking several deep, steady breaths. A moment later, her body relaxed and her face smoothed into soft, calm lines. The transformation was complete and impressive, an
d Patricio took a moment to appreciate her control. He didn’t interact with many women, thank the gods, but those he did have to interact with had not been nearly as disciplined as Marcela appeared capable of being.
He ripped his attention away from her. Admiration was fine, but that was all he could have for Marcela. If she had her way, she would be returning to the sea as quickly as possible, and he highly doubted she would want anything further to do with him given their short but eventful history.
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