10
“I can’t believe he said that,” I mutter for the quadrillionth time. “I can’t believe he said that. I can’t believe he—”
“I get it,” Peri interrupts. “You’re in disbelief. Can we just stipulate the point and move on?”
Guess I know what Peri’s legal vocabulary word of the week is.
“But Peri,” I whine, “Daddy…likes him.”
Across the crowded ballroom I see Daddy introducing Quince to the members of the royal council, the ten most powerful merfolk in Thalassinia other than the king. They’re all smiling and laughing and nodding like they’ve never been happier.
I’ve never been more miserable.
Nothing about the last twenty-four hours has gone according to plan. First, the blowfish lures me into the library—as if I buy the whole Brody-was-too-busy-dancing thing. Then he kisses me. Then he can’t even swim! Now he’s convinced my dad and the entire Thalassinian royal court—the entire court!—that he’s my perfect mermate.
“Why didn’t you tell your dad it was an accident?” Peri asks.
“I tried,” I say, reliving those confusing moments in the hall. “But before I could say anything, he threw open the ballroom doors and—” I cover my face with my hands. “Well, you heard the announcement.”
“Who didn’t?”
“My daughter has bonded!” he shouted to the entire court assembled for my cousin Dosinia’s sixteenth-birthday ball. I’d completely forgotten about the party. Could the timing be any worse? (Oh, wait, this is my life we’re talking about, so clearly not.) The crowd’s cheer must have registered on tsunami warning systems on both sides of the Atlantic. Then, before I could blink, we were being passed around the room, getting hugs and congratulations from everyone.
When Uncle Portunus grabbed Quince in a giant bear hug, I made my escape to the buffet table. Peri pulled me out from behind the tower of candy-coated sand strawberries and beach plums. To my surprise, no one at the party came after me. They all seemed focused on meeting Quince.
“After the party,” I say. “I’ll explain everything as soon as Dosinia’s party is over.”
“How considerate of you,” a cold voice says from behind me. “You should win the cousin-of-the-year award.”
I twist around to find Dosinia floating under a swag of seaweed streamers, arms crossed over her well-displayed—maybe sponge-enhanced—chest, and glaring at me. She may be twenty-two months younger than me, but she’s always acted way superior. And way hateful. Like my primary purpose in life is to make her miserable, when it’s more like the other way around.
“Too bad you didn’t wait to show up after my party,” she snaps.
“I’m sorry, Doe,” I say, even though I know she won’t accept an apology. “I didn’t mean to crash your party. I totally forgot it was even happening tonight.”
I know I’ve said the wrong thing when her eyes—piercing blue surrounded by a thick ring of squid-ink liner—narrow menacingly.
“I didn’t mean tha—”
“Nice to know my major milestones rank so highly on your social calendar,” she snaps. “I’ll be sure to return the favor on your next birthday.”
With a flick of her tail fin, she jets over me and Peri, sending a bowlful of cocktail shrimp swirling around us. This just isn’t my day. Or my week. Or maybe my life.
No, sadly, this is my life.
“Don’t sweat Dosinia,” Peri says, trying to soothe me like a best friend does. “She’s been a sea witch all week. My mom nearly told her to go have someone else make her coming-out gown. And you know how much Mom will take before she blows her top.”
Peri’s mom is practically a saint, but Doe could try the patience of Old Man River himself.
“Doe means well,” I say, mainly trying to reassure myself. As my only girl cousin, she should be like a sister. “Tonight is a big night for her. And I totally ruined it.”
I do feel sorry for her. This was supposed to be her huge debut, her official introduction to the royal court and an invitation for eligible mermen to begin courting her—not that Doe hasn’t been dating for years, but now it’s official. Suitors will be lining up to woo her, guaranteed. First, because she’s the king’s niece. Considering how Daddy scared away all my prospective suitors, that’s as close to the throne as most eligible young mermen will get. And second, she’s gorgeous. With her long, caramel blond hair, hot pink and purple fins, full glossy lips, and eyes that could hypnotize a boy in under twenty seconds, she’ll have her pick of the kingdom.
Tonight should have been about her, not the blowfish biker boy with broad shoulders and an enchanting smile and—
“Then I dragged her into the stall and pulled her onto my lap,” Quince says, loud enough for me to hear halfway across the ballroom.
The entire assembly, listening with rapt attention, bursts out laughing. Even Daddy.
“I’m going to kill him,” I tell Peri as I kick off toward the group.
As I swim up, he’s saying, “So there she is, tears streaming down her face, but still ready to—”
“There you are!” I shout over what he’s about to say. I swim down to his side and wrap an arm around his waist, squeezing tight and digging my fingernails into the flesh of his rib cage. “Why don’t we let the council members go congratulate Dosinia on her debut? You can tell your stories later.”
I give him a look that clearly states that by “later,” I mean “never.” Not that he takes any of my hints. He gets that infuriating self-assured smile on his face, slides one strong arm around my shoulders, and squeezes back. His eyes hold mine captive as he says, “Whatever you say…Princess.”
I smile through gritted teeth, waiting for his audience to drift away so I can tell him what I’m really thinking. Although I bet he can guess.
When we’re somewhat alone, I say, “Do not embarrass me in front of my people. I’m a member of the royal family, and I will not have my dirty gossip spread throughout the seven seas.”
His eyes soften, and all that obnoxious cockiness melts away. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“Well, you were,” I insist. “And while you may never have to see these people again, I have to live the rest of my life here, and I don’t want them snickering about me behind my back or doubting my judgment.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding sincere. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good.”
I’m not sure how to deal with an apologetic Quince. Especially when something in my gut tells me his remorse is real. This knowledge stuns me for a second—even knowing the bond is creating this connection, it feels so…natural.
“The rest of your life, huh?” he asks, popping my focus.
“What?”
“You’re moving back here permanently,” he says, his emotions now carefully guarded. “When? After graduation?”
“Probably—”
“There’s the happy couple!” Daddy swims over, his two closest advisers in his wake.
I still can’t get over how happy he looks. I don’t get it. Every merboy I even spared a second glance got the third degree and threats of deportation to the Mariana Trench—the merworld equivalent of Siberian salt mines. But Quince shows up, this idiotic, obnoxious human, and Daddy’s practically throwing a parade.
Why is this time different?
Now it’s going to break his heart when he learns this is all a huge mistake. Better to clear things up now, before he gets too attached.
“Daddy, I need to tell you—”
“There is some paperwork to fill out,” he interrupts. “Some forms and waivers that you and Quince”—he throws Quince a proud smile—“must fill out before the joining ceremony.”
“But Daddy—”
“No point in putting it off,” he continues. “My advisers have prepared the documents.”
“Daddy—”
“Won’t take but a few minutes.”
“Da—”
“We can go to my offic
e right now and—”
“It was a mistake!” I shout, way louder than I intended, but he just wasn’t listening. What else was I supposed to do?
Besides, it works. Daddy stops talking. He stops smiling, too. In fact, he’s kind of frowning—no, make that scowling.
That’s when I realize the entire ball has fallen silent around us. Not even the current stirs as I feel all attention on me. I squeeze my eyes shut. The entire assembly just heard my outburst…and now they’re eagerly awaiting the next move.
“My office,” Daddy roars. “Now!”
He jets off, expecting us to follow. I glare at Quince, because even if he didn’t know what he was getting into, this is all his fault. Graysby and Grouper grab Quince, one at each arm, and carry him to the door and out into the hall. Leaving me completely alone in a room full of people staring at me. As I turn to follow, I catch Peri’s gaze across the room. She gives me a sympathetic smile, knowing I’m in for some kind of tirade. Then, without looking at any of the other dozens of pairs of eyes watching me, I flick my way to the door and head for Daddy’s tower office.
I was fully prepared to deal with a furious father when I got home. Just not one who was furious because I wasn’t bonding to a human. Maybe it’s the full moon that’s making everything and everyone go all swirly.
I can’t think of anything that could conceivably make this situation worse.
Daddy is pacing up a whirlpool when I swim into his office. Quince is sitting on one of the two chairs facing Daddy’s massive desk. Although merfolk don’t really need chairs—who needs to sit when you can float?—they are a ceremonial holdover from Poseidon’s court.
As I swim around to take the other chair, Quince gives me an apologetic smile. My anger at him deflates a little. (It’s always harder to hold on to my irritation underwater.) He’s gotten swept up in this just as much as anyone else, but I can sense that he feels bad for getting me in trouble.
Great, the bond is totally broadcasting his emotions. Next thing you know, I’ll be reading his thoughts, too. We need to get this thing severed before the line between what’s real and what’s the bond turns into total murk.
“Daddy,” I begin. “I—”
“Silence!”
I sink into the chair next to Quince. Being the daughter of the king, I learned a long time ago to keep my mouth shut when he’s on a rampage.
Daddy takes a few deep breaths, and that seems to calm him. Then, with a gentler expression on his face, he settles into the ornate chair behind his desk. His hands grip the curved arms so tightly that his knuckles turn white, but his face is completely calm.
He’s trying to act like Daddy, but I can tell His Royal Highness King Whelk is lurking just beneath the surface.
“Please explain how this”—he gestures at me and Quince—“is a ‘mistake.’”
“Well, Daddy, there’s this boy—”
“No,” he interrupts. Pointing at Quince, he says, “I’d like him to tell me what happened.”
Quince leans forward in his seat and nods, like he understands what’s going on here. Good, that makes one of us. Must be a guy thing.
“It was my fault, sir,” he says, sounding all respectful. “Your daughter was expecting to meet another young man, but when he was unable to make the appointment, I arrived instead.”
I gape at Quince. Who is this guy sitting in my father’s office? And what has he done with the obnoxious biker boy I brought to Thalassinia? This guy is all big words and respect and reverence. Nothing like the Quince I know on land.
Maybe water’s mellowing him, too.
“And the kiss?” Daddy growls.
I wince. Is there any greater torture than sitting there listening as your first kiss—I still can’t believe that, for the rest of my life, my first kiss will always have been Quince Fletcher—tells your dad all about the experience? Humans should feel grateful they can keep theirs a secret.
“My apologies, sir,” Quince says. “I don’t feel comfortable discussing the details of a very private moment. But I can assure you that I am entirely to blame for the situation. Lily could not have guessed that I would kiss her.”
My breath rushes out in a relieved whirl. I’ll have to thank Quince for that small favor. Although, if I’m being honest, I kind of wonder what Quince thought of the kiss. My fins curled—because I thought he was Brody—but what about him? Was it just another kiss?
Daddy doesn’t speak, just nods. Elbows resting on the arms of his chair, he steeples his fingers together beneath his chin. His stormy gray eyes have a faraway look, and I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to do. Well, I can tell him what to do. Perform the separation ritual so Quince and I can go home and get back to our regular lives.
Not that I say anything.
“All right, I’ll grant the separation,” Daddy finally says. Then, before I can squeal for joy—not that I expected him to do anything else—he adds, “Tomorrow night.”
I gawk. “What?”
“Can you remain overnight without complications?” he asks Quince, ignoring my outburst.
Quince nods. “Yes, sir.”
“You may go,” Daddy says, waving Quince away. “I would like to speak with my daughter privately.”
Quince pushes out of the chair and tries to paddle across the room to the door. But, as he said earlier, he can’t swim. So he just floats slowly across the room, propelled by his shove against the chair. It’s painful to watch. When I can’t take it anymore, I kick out of my chair and swim to his side.
“You have to cup the water,” I explain. “Like this.”
I demonstrate a simple pull stroke. He copies me, but the water just slips between his fingers.
“Keep your fingers together.” I take his hand, molding it watertight so he can actually get some propelling motion going. “Now try.”
This time when he pulls, he moves—in a circle, because he just pulled one hand, but it’s still progress. He tries again with both hands, sending himself floating toward the door. He looks back over his shoulder as he strokes away, flashing me an inscrutable grin. “Thanks, princess.”
I’m not sure how I can tell, but I don’t think he was mocking my title. I watch until he makes it to and through the door, where Graysby and Grouper try to carry him again. The last thing I see before the door shuts is Quince shrugging them off, saying, “I got this.”
I don’t realize until I turn back to Daddy that I’m smiling. My face immediately goes blank.
“Daddy, you can’t really expect him to—”
“This isn’t about your young man,” he says, swimming out from behind his desk and pulling me into an embrace. “As soon as I perform the separation, you will go rushing back to the surface. I’d like us to spend some time together before you go.”
Leave it to Daddy to say the one mushy thing that makes me okay with his decision. His request reminds me just how long I’ve been gone, how much I’ve missed the sea. If only it had been Brody in the library, then we could stay permanently.
I wonder briefly what Daddy’s reaction will be when I finally bring Brody home. Will he be just as surprisingly enthusiastic as he has been about Quince?
“Tell me something.” I lean back, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Anything,” he says automatically.
“Why do you like him?” I have great faith in Daddy’s judgment, so it’s a total mystery why he’s treating Quince like his long-lost son-in-law. A tiny niggle of doubt at the back of my mind wonders if maybe Daddy sees something in him that I haven’t seen. “Why did you welcome him with open arms when you worked so hard to scare away every merboy in the sea?”
Daddy nudges aside a lock of blond hair that’s drifted into my eyes. “Because I thought you’d chosen him,” he says. “All those silly merboys pursued you, so I could never be certain of their intentions. But you brought this boy, a terraped who could have no real concept of your position in our society. He couldn’t be just another titl
e chaser.”
“Oh,” I say quietly. I don’t know why a part of me is disappointed. It’s not like I wanted him to tell me Quince was some kind of magically perfect mermate or anything. Besides, this is good news, because the situation will be the same with Brody. I should feel relieved.
No, I do feel relieved. This is great. The blowfish and I will stay the night, I’ll get to hang out with Daddy for a while. Then I can go back to Seaview knowing that when I finally bring Brody home, he’ll get a celebratory welcoming.
As I snuggle back in against Daddy’s neck, I ask, “Will you take me to Bubbles and Baubles?”
He heaves a big sigh, but I know it’s just pretend irritation. Daddy loves spoiling me whenever I’m home.
“Only if you promise to leave some stock in the store this time,” he says. “You can’t possibly take that much back to your aunt’s.”
“That’s okay,” I tease. “I’ll just leave anything I can’t carry in my room here.”
Daddy clears his throat and pulls back. “Yes, we need to discuss your room.”
My room? What’s to discuss?
“With all the guests in town for Dosinia’s ball, we’ve had to”—he pauses, like he’s looking for the right words—“be creative in our accommodations.”
“How creative, exactly?” I ask, not liking the sound of this.
“After some necessary rearrangements and last-minute guests, all but one of our guest rooms are full. Quince will obviously have to stay in the available room. Unfortunately,” he says, “you will not have yours to yourself.”
11
“Let me stay with you,” I beg Peri. “We can have a sleepover like when we were guppies.”
“Can’t,” she says. “The whole extended family is in town for the ball. I’m already sharing my room with three of my cousins.”
I roll over and bury my head in hot pink sea anemones—a special stingless variety cultivated by the royal seascape artist exclusively for the palace gardens. They don’t have a scent, but their velvety-soft petals feel like satin against my cheek. I’m in desperate need of some serious Zen. Just when I thought my weekend couldn’t get any worse.