"You put yourself in danger when you did. You could've been seen, either by my men or by others from the sea. You must be very cunning to evade the entire might of the sea army.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to agree, to confirm just how clever, just how shrewd, just how utterly untouchable she was. Because she was. But that was her as Ursula. Not as Ariel.
Ursula swallowed down her pride, masking her emotions with a small, practiced smile, keeping hergaze cast downward as if embarrassed by the compliment.
Prince Eric's arm was solid beneath her touch. The muscles flexing under her splayed fingers resting in the crook of his elbow. She noted the strength there, the way he moved with effortless control.
A wild, ridiculous thought slid into her mind:If I put all my weight on him, would he carry me?The idea was so absurd, so unlike her, that she snuffed it out immediately.
CHAPTER NINE
“Fresh-caught mackerel, served raw and sliced thin, as madam requested," the chef announced as he set the plate before the disguised sea princess. “With a side of sea grapes and raw shrimp, lightly brushed with lime brine and a dusting of crushed coral salt. And for His Highness”—he turned with a flourish, setting down the second plate—“slow-roasted boar, rubbed in mountain thyme and coastal fennel, served over sweetroot mash with a drizzle of honeyed glaze. Your drinks—sea lavender tea for the lady, crisp and floral, and a dark berry cordial for you, sire. Tart with just enough bite to cut the richness. Enjoy your meal.”
Eric nodded politely, but the chef's words barelyregistered. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Ariel sat across from him at a small wooden table beneath the awning of a café, eating with a hunger that was both unapologetic and mesmerizing. Eric's gaze lingered on her mouth, on the way her lips glistened as she licked a drop of brine from the corner, on the delicate movement of her throat as she swallowed.
The marketplace swirled around them, sun-drenched and vibrant. The smells of roasting meats and citrus drifted through the air. Children laughed near a fountain. Coins clinked. Somewhere, a fiddler played a jaunty tune that had the foot-tappers and skirt-spinners gathering in rhythm. None of it registered next to the beauty within Eric's arm span.
He could reach out and touch her. He could taste her lips—she was to be his bride, after all. Instead, he bided his time.
The sea princess had asked for nothing. Well, nothing he wasn't already prepared to give her. She wanted to rule next to him on his throne. She'd been eager to cast off his cotton shirt—that had irked him. But then she'd happily donned the silk gown he'd purchased for her. He should have bought her seashells, pearls, gems. But the silk highlighted her curves so well.
She wasn’t the princess he had heard about in rumors—the delicate, fragile thing raised in theshadow of her father. There was a strength to her, a toughness that he hadn't expected. She knew her own mind. She didn’t yield to fear. She carried herself like she owned the world.
Eric took a slow sip of his drink, watching her, trying to piece together the contradiction of it all. She must have hidden a part of herself her entire life, just as he had. Forced to be what her kingdom needed, like him. But here, now, together—they didn’t have to be. Here, they were just a man and a woman, sitting in the sun, sharing a meal, speaking of nothing and everything, belonging only to each other.
He didn’t want to go back to the castle. Didn’t want to return to the suffocating walls of duty, expectation, obligation. Not yet. Not when this moment was solely about the two of them.
Ariel clearly wasn't used to sitting in a dress because the way she sat showed off a little too much leg. Others noticed. Eric saw them—the way a pair of men nearby let their eyes linger too long, their gazes sliding over her like they had a right to look.
A slow, dangerous heat curled in his chest. Before heeven realized what he was doing, a low growl rumbled in his throat. It was a warning, and it was effective. The men startled, eyes snapping away as quickly as they had dared to look.
Satisfied, Eric turned back to Ariel—only to find her watching him. Amusement shone bright in her sea-blue gaze. Her lips curled into a knowing grin.
She had seen everything. She wasn’t blushing at his show of possession. She looked pleased by his show of aggression.
On her plate, nestled beside the shimmering slices of raw mackerel was a small mound of live shrimp. Their translucent bodies wiggled with life. Their legs twitched in the shallow pool of citrus-laced seawater.
The sea princess plucked a wriggling morsel from the wooden plate, its translucent tendrils curling in protest. She popped it between her lips, chewing slowly, savoring every bite. "Are you disgusted?"
“I doubt anything you do could disgust me. I just… You’d rather not have it cooked?”
“There’s no fire in the sea. We don’t eat dead things.”
She picked up another wriggling piece and ate it without breaking eye contact. She swallowed, then wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb. Eric found the movement mesmerizing.
"If you'd rather not take your meals with me?—"
"I want to do everything with you," he insisted.
She pressed her lips together. Her tongue peeked out as she licked at the tender flesh. Eric had the urge to bite the plumpest part of her mouth. Or the corner. Anything he could sink his teeth into.
“Is a human queen always at her king's side?"
"I don't know about other men. My mother was always behind my father. I think I'd like to keep you at my side where I can see you."
"Afraid I might stab you in the back?"
“I was defenseless when you found me unconscious. I don't fear what you might do if my back was turned. There’s nothing I have to hide from you.”
