Princess of Mermaids

Home > Fantasy > Princess of Mermaids > Page 17
Princess of Mermaids Page 17

by A. G. Marshall


  He didn’t regret the choice. In spite of the jealous looks and frantic whispers, he was glad to have Lady Mer by his side. He helped her into her seat and noted the way she studied the place setting.

  “Are you familiar with formal dining etiquette? I am happy to show you which forks to use if needed.”

  He signed the words so she wouldn’t be embarrassed to accept his help. She raised an eyebrow and tapped the forks in the order they would be used. Gustave flushed. He shouldn’t have assumed she would have unrefined table manners because she came from the sea.

  Blast it all, that was a perfectly normal thing to assume. Who was she?

  He needed better ways to gather information about her. No matter if she was shy or cursed, the result was the same. She refused to say anything about herself. If she was shy, maybe it was just a matter of winning her trust over time. A curse would be more difficult, but Prince Stefan had managed to drop hints when he was cursed to be a frog. Surely Lady Mer could do the same.

  Maybe she was already dropping hints. Maybe Gustave had missed them.

  Waiters placed bowls of soup on the table in a movement so synchronized that it looked like a dance. Lady Mer watched Dowager Queen Bernadine, waiting to pick up her spoon until the hostess began to eat.

  Perhaps giving her a title wasn’t such a stretch after all. She clearly knew how to behave in polite company.

  Had she confessed something about her identity to his grandmother? Or maybe they had met before. Was that why the dowager queen had invited Lady Mer to stay and suggested the title?

  “Begging your pardon, Princess, but which of these do I use first?”

  The question came from down the table. Dale had been invited to dinner with the rest of the gala guests, and he stared at the collection of silverware in front of him as if it were an array of torture devices. Collette showed him, and the merchant began to eat. Marquis Corbeau looked exasperated by his presence. Especially when Dale’s spoon slipped from his fingers and landed in his soup with a splash.

  “Sorry. I’m not used to such fine company. My ships transport luxury wares, but I’ve never used them myself. What would my daughters say if they could see me now?”

  Princess Collette hurriedly apologized to Dale for not instructing him on how to use the spoon beforehand. They apologized back and forth to each other until Dowager Queen Bernadine told them to stop talking and eat their soup before it got cold.

  Lady Mer caught Gustave’s eye and raised an eyebrow. The gesture asked her question as effectively as words could have. Maybe more so, since it was discrete.

  “Dale Mercer. He’s a merchant whose ships were destroyed in a kraken attack. Well, most of them were. One may have survived, and he came here to investigate the report. We invited him to stay until he can learn the ship’s whereabouts and find passage home.”

  Gustave answered in sign language so Dale wouldn’t overhear. Lady Mer raised her other eyebrow.

  “You weren’t responsible for the destruction of his ship. Why go to such trouble to help him?”

  “Why not help him when it is within our power to do so?”

  She blinked in surprise, as if she had never considered the possibility of helping someone for its own sake.

  Given the circumstances Gustave had found her in, she probably wasn’t used to random kindness.

  Blast it all, why had she been in the ocean? No matter how hard Gustave thought, he couldn’t come up with a single scenario that involved a respectable young lady naked and alone on the beach. What had happened?

  He raised his hands to sign the question, then lowered them. He could ask her, but what if she ran away again? Even asking her name had upset her enough to make her flee.

  If she was cursed, revealing information must come with serious consequences.

  If magic wasn’t at work, had someone mistreated her in the past? Was that why she didn’t trust them with her true identity? Was she running from someone?

  “Do you like the soup, Your Majesty?” Kara asked from the other side of the table.

  “What? Oh, yes, it’s very good.”

  Kara smiled at him and blushed bright red.

  “I love soup,” Lady Annabelle said. “The castle chef always makes the best soup every time I visit. I’ve had his soup before, but this recipe is new.”

  Gustave gave her a strained smile. Thank goodness he only had to endure this for a few more days. They would go home after his birthday gala.

  Wouldn’t they? Surely they would.

  Only, if he wasn’t engaged by then, they might be asked to stay.

  That alone could be enough reason to pick a random lady at the ball and propose.

  Lady Mer was trying not to laugh. Gustave frowned at her.

  “You find this funny?”

  She nodded.

  “I had pumpkin soup the last time I visited,” Lady Annabelle said. “Do you remember that, Your Majesty? Do you like pumpkin soup?”

  Lady Mer’s smile widened.

  “What do you find so funny about soup?” Gustave signed.

  She shook her head.

  “It isn’t about the soup. They’re trying to engage you in conversation by asking about things you like. You said you liked the soup, so they’re trying to use that to catch your interest. Say you like something else and see what happens.”

  “I understand that Your Majesty wants to make your guest feel welcome,” Marquis Corbeau said, “But you should not exclude everyone else from the conversation. Perhaps Thomas could translate the young lady’s words so everyone can have the privilege of her comments?”

  Gustave bowed his head.

  “My apologies. I was just telling Lady Mer how intriguing I found the seagull that visited her in the sewing room today.”

  “Wasn’t it charming?” Lady Annabelle said. “I adore seagulls.”

  Gustave gave Lady Mer a surprised look. She nodded her head, clearly saying “I told you so.”

  “Lady Mer?” Marquis Corbeau said. “So you discovered her identity? That’s marvelous! Where is your family’s estate, lady?”

  He sounded as enthusiastic about calling her by a title as he would have been to learn that Princess Collette had invited more guests to the castle.

  Lady Mer’s eyes grew wide with panic at Marquis Corbeau’s question. Gustave stared into them, noticing again how blue they were. They looked so familiar, but surely he would remember those eyes if he had seen them before.

  “It’s only a nickname,” Lady Annabelle said. “She isn’t really a lady.”

  Marquis Corbeau relaxed a little.

  “That is a little strange, don’t you think? Giving her a title as a nickname?”

  “We have to call her something,” Dowager Queen Bernadine said.

  “Do we?” Marquis Corbeau said. “Why not simply address her as miss?”

  “Or madam,” Lady Annabelle said. “Perhaps she’s married. She is wearing a ring.”

  All eyes turned to Lady Mer. She ducked her head and looked like she was seriously considering climbing under the table. Gustave searched for something to say to keep her from running away again.

  “Are you married?”

  Stupid! Why did he always say whatever he was thinking around her? It was no wonder she had run away. No matter how much he wanted to know, she clearly didn’t want to answer questions about herself.

  Lady Mer met his gaze.

  “No, I’m not married.”

  “She said she’s not married,” Dowager Queen Bernadine translated loudly for everyone.

  Gustave relaxed, although he didn’t know why. Why did he care if she was married?

  He shouldn’t care. He was in love with someone else. This girl’s fate meant nothing to him.

  The thought was accompanied by the memory of a song. That sweet voice that had healed him on the beach.

  “I understand Your Majesty opened birthday gifts this afternoon,” Kara said. “Did you receive anything interesting?”

&nbs
p; It was a perfectly innocent question, but it made Gustave choke on his soup and sent Lady Mer into a fit of silent laughter. The scene was distracting enough that everyone at the table noticed. Kara frowned.

  “Have I said something wrong?”

  She looked to Collette for help, but Collette simply shrugged in confusion.

  “I take it some of the gifts were very interesting,” Elaine commented.

  She had been so quiet throughout the evening that Gustave had almost forgotten she was there. He nodded.

  “Excessively interesting.”

  “Indeed?” Lady Annabelle said.

  She leaned forward, her eyes taking on a predatory gleam that made Gustave’s throat go dry.

  “Are you going to tell her you’ve already opened it?” Lady Mer signed.

  Gustave shook his head. He had no idea how that conversation would go, but it was not one he wanted to have. Especially at the dinner table.

  “Best to talk about the sweater then. Thomas, please tell everyone that I said that King Gustave received a most interesting sweater from the Aeonian royal family.”

  Thomas relayed the message. Lady Annabelle looked disappointed, but quickly rallied.

  “A sweater? How interesting. Made from cashmere, of course. I adore Aeonian cashmere.”

  “I’d like to see it sometime,” Kara said. “The royal tailor of Aeonia is known for his bold designs. I’m sure his knitwear is quite unique.”

  Unlike Lady Annabelle, her interest in the sweater seemed genuine. Gustave vaguely remembered that she had been knitting at his grandmother’s sewing circle.

  “Unique is one word for it,” he said. “One of the librarians could show it to you any time you like.”

  “Oh. Thank you.”

  Kara sounded disappointed. Gustave couldn’t imagine why. He had offered her exactly what she wanted.

  “She wanted you to show it to her,” Lady Mer signed.

  Oh. Now Gustave felt like an idiot. However genuine Kara’s interest in knitting may be, she was apparently more interested in him.

  No wonder the council had chosen to relieve him of administrative duties so he could focus on finding a bride. He was rather bad at wooing ladies.

  But then, he wasn’t trying to woo any of these ladies.

  Still, Gustave wasn’t sure things would have gone much better if he had been making a genuine effort.

  In fact, they might have gone worse.

  Lady Mer ate her soup with an innocent expression, but merriment twinkled in her eyes.

  “You find this amusing.”

  Gustave signed the accusation. Lady Mer took another bite and did not deny it.

  “Princess Collette did well today,” Marchioness Rouge said, filling in the awkward silence that had spread through the dining room. “She is settling into her temporary duties very well.”

  “Tell me all about it,” Gustave said, eager to move the focus to someone else.

  Collette’s eyes sparkled as she told the assembled guests about her first day of administration. It had mostly involved training with Marchioness Rouge and the royal treasurer, but she had still enjoyed it.

  Other than the gleam in Lady Annabelle’s eyes when she learned that Princess Collette was now helping with administrative responsibilities so that Gustave could focus on the gala, the rest of the dinner passed without incident.

  29

  Fiora woke up to the sound of tapping. The silvery glow of moonlight made her think she was underwater again.

  Until she pushed off her bed, expecting to float towards the ceiling, and crashed onto the floor instead.

  Fiora stayed on the floor for a moment, recovering her breath and trying to remember where she was.

  Montaigne. In the castle. She was a guest of the royal family.

  And something was tapping on her window.

  She pulled herself up, wondering why she had ever missed being on land. Balancing on feet was much harder than floating through water.

  Especially when those feet hurt more with every step she took.

  But never mind that. What on earth was tapping on her window? She was on the third floor. That was quite a climb.

  Fiora stumbled over and pushed it open. Something flew through past her in a blur of feathers and landed on her bed.

  “Squawk.”

  Spot dropped a seashell onto her pillow and looked at her with expectant eyes.

  Fiora sighed. She didn’t have any food. But even if she could speak and tell him that, the bird wouldn’t understand her.

  She held her hands out, palms open, so Spot could see they were empty.

  “Squawk.”

  He ruffled his feathers indignantly and flew out the window. Fiora picked up the shell and held it to the moonlight to study the carvings.

  It was Zoe’s again.

  This must mean her cousin was waiting to meet her. Probably in the same place along the shoreline.

  And hopefully she had brought the second conch shell with her so that Fiora could figure out why her feet were hurting so much.

  Fiora wished Zoe had waited until morning. It would have been easier to get to the garden in daylight.

  But if her cousin was waiting, Fiora would just have to find a way to get to the beach.

  She wrapped a robe around herself and sighed, missing the satisfaction of making a sound as she did so. Strangely, she also missed the stream of bubbles that would have accompanied the sigh if she had been a mermaid.

  Fiora crept across the room and turned the latch slowly. It clicked, and the sound echoed through the empty hallway. Those elegant marble floors amplified every sound in the castle.

  She left the door slightly open, not willing to risk another latch click, and walked along the edge of the hallway, hoping to be mistaken for a servant if she was seen at all.

  The castle was empty. Apparently everyone was already in bed.

  Now, which way was the garden?

  Fiora should have paid more attention when following people around the castle. She had only a vague sense of where she was, and everything looked different at night.

  After ten minutes of wandering through hallways, Fiora had to admit she was lost. Her castle in Kell had been small and easy to navigate. Mermaid dwellings were so open that you could always see where you were going through the numerous holes in the walls and ceilings.

  The Montaigne castle was an elegant marble maze.

  Fiora fought back the panic building in her chest. Not only did she not know the way to the gardens, but she wasn’t sure she could make it back to her room either.

  That would be difficult to explain to whoever found her.

  Fiora flattened against the wall as a sound filled the hallway. She listened for a moment, then relaxed.

  Somewhere in the castle, someone was singing. The sound echoed against the marble, making it impossible to decipher the words. The singer was female, but the music echoed too much for Fiora to say more than that.

  There was a trace of magic in that voice. Had Zoe somehow come into the castle to look for Fiora?

  Only one way to find out. Even if it wasn’t Zoe, the singer might know the way to the garden.

  Fiora turned slowly in a circle, trying to find the direction the sound was coming from. She picked the hallway where it seemed the loudest and began to walk.

  The feeling of magic intensified as Fiora moved through the castle towards the music. The voice became a little clearer. It definitely wasn’t Zoe singing, and it didn’t feel quite like mermaid magic.

  Fiora had never heard a human weave magic with singing before. Usually they just spoke enchantments to magical gems.

  The song seemed vaguely familiar, but the echoing against the marble distorted the melody and voice, so she couldn’t quite place them.

  She swallowed. Maybe it would be better not to disturb the singer. What if they reported her to the royal family or insisted on taking her back to her room rather than showing her to the garden? It would probably
be better to keep searching on her own.

  Fiora turned away from the music to retrace her steps and ran into something warm and solid.

  Rather, someone.

  She screamed. Or at least she tried. It came out as a sort of raspy cough that faded into silence.

  The man stepped back, just as surprised as she was, and Fiora recognized King Gustave.

  She leaned against the wall as her heart pounded in her chest. Gustave blinked, looking confused. Had he been sleep walking?

  “Lady Mer?” he finally said.

  Fiora nodded and stepped into a patch of moonlight streaming through a window so Gustave could see her more clearly.

  “I- That is- Are you alright?”

  Gustave looked around the hallway, and Fiora felt she should be asking him if he was alright. He still seemed a little dazed.

  “I’m fine.”

  She turned to walk away. The last thing she needed was to linger alone with the king in the middle of the night. Fiora would leave those sorts of strategies to Lady Annabelle. She was done trying to win the hearts of men.

  “Don’t go.”

  Desperation tinged Gustave’s voice. He grabbed her hand as he said it, and Fiora pulled away as if she had been stung by a jellyfish. Gustave retracted his hand just as quickly.

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just- I didn’t want to be alone.”

  He still looked confused. Fiora knew from recent experience how alarming it was to wake up and not know where you were. Who would have guessed the King of Montaigne was a sleep walker?

  She crossed her arms over her chest but stayed where she was. Gustave stared at her face, then down at the floor.

  “I mean- That is-”

  Fiora smiled in spite of everything. His awkwardness was rather endearing.

  “It’s alright, Your Majesty.”

  He didn’t see her signs because he was still staring at the floor. She tapped his arm to get his attention, which caused him to jump in surprise. She repeated the signs, and he relaxed a little.

  “I dreamed I heard a voice,” he said. “I thought it might be the woman who saved me on the beach, and I was trying to find her.”

 

‹ Prev