He rinsed the salt from her hair, watching the suds swirl into the water before answering. “Are these secrets from the Sea Kingdom?”
She nodded, her fin shifting under the water.
Eric smoothed his hands over her shoulders, trailing down her arms, feeling the tension coiled beneath her skin. “Do they pose a threat to me or my people?”
“I would never do anything to hurt you. Though I'm sure my secrets won't endear your people to me. I didn't factor them in. Only you." She sighed and leaned back against him, fluttering her tail up and fanning her fin out. “I’m good at tactics. At moving people into position to achieve my aims. I see the world as a battlefield. But you… You got past my defenses.”
Eric pulled her tighter against him, pressing his lips against the damp curve of her shoulder. “That’s good. Because I have no intention of retreating from you.”
She huffed a small laugh, but it lacked any sharpness. It was real.
“Do you need my help, siren? Is there something I can do?”
She shook her head.
“Will these secrets cause you harm?”
“No. But… you might be upset with me at first when they come into the light.”
Eric tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “Couples fight,” he said with an easy grin. “We’re bound to have a few disagreements here and there. Likely when I'm too pigheaded to see that you’re right and I’m wrong.”
That surprised a genuine laugh from her—a delighted sound that sent warmth rushing through him. Eric took full advantage. His mouth claimed hers, swallowing the laughter, replacing it with something sensuous and unguarded. Her lips parted, and he deepened the kiss, tasting the salt of the sea on her tongue, feeling the way her fingers curled into his chest, clutching him like he was her anchor.
When he broke away, their breath mingling, he ran his thumb along her kiss-swollen lips, memorizing the sight of her like this—relaxed, flushed, his.
“I gave you my vow. There’s nothing you can say or do, no secret that will make me take those words back.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The tea was bitter. Why humans preferred to drink water seasoned with grass was beyond her. Ursula had been raised to stand on ceremony with foreign dignitaries. Now that she was queen, she set the cup down and didn't pick it up again. It wasn’t the drink itself that bothered her—she’d swallowed far worse things in her life—but rather the company that soured the experience.
The ladies of the court sat in their lace-trimmed gowns. Their pearled fingers rested delicately on porcelain cups. Their false smiles arrowed sharper than fishhooks. They were circling her like sharks, their whispers darting just beneath the surface of polite conversation.
“How exotic it must be,” one of them—Lady Helena,Ursula thought her name was—said with a demure little smile, her voice laced with carefully placed venom. “Coming onto land after spending your whole life under the sea. It must be so disorienting.”
“Oh, quite,” another agreed. Ursula had no idea of the barnacle’s name. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to adapt. Why, walking alone must be exhausting after all that swimming.”
“You're quite right," Ursula agreed. "The human body is so… delicate. The wrong touch, and a bone snaps. The wrong step, and you’re sprawled on the ground, limbs akimbo. I've always liked that word, akimbo. The sea, you see, does not coddle weakness.”
The air thinned, the tension shifting like an undercurrent.
Lady Helena straightened her spine, plastering on a faux smile. “How fortunate, then, that you’ve married our prince. He’s so… generous to take in someone from such a different background.”
"Eric is no longer a prince." Ursula’s lips curled. "He's your king, and I am his queen. But you are right; he does so love taking care of me, in all manners.”
She let her words hang there, let them think of exactly what that meant. A flicker of discomfort passed through the gathered women. Some shifted in their seats. Others cast quick, unreadable glances atone another.
Good. They needed to get it in their heads that they weren't dealing with a pawn or a prawn. Ursula been raised as royalty in dangerous waters, and her teeth were far sharper than any shark's.
She tapped her fingers against the settee, trying to determine the best way to get out of this luncheon. The ladies continued their idle chatter. Their gossip-laced voices washed over her like the ebb and flow of the tide. She hadn't been listening—not really—until she heard it.
"Such a dreadful inconvenience," Lady Helena was saying, tapping a jeweled finger against the rim of her teacup. "The merchants are already in an uproar over taxation, and now with this delay of the ocean liner full of grain, the commoners are getting restless."
The ocean liner. Ursula had nearly forgotten about it. And she'd been right. The ship was now filled with useless grain. If barrels of grain sank to the bottom of the sea, it would do nothing for the seafolk. But Flotsam and Jetsam with their pea brains would only see opportunity and not think it through. Not without her.
Eric needed that shipment. If it didn’t reach the docks, his kingdom could be thrown into further discontent, unrest, weakness. Hungry people did stupid things. She would simply have to make sure that the humans were fed and the sea cretins kept their scales tothemselves. She huffed, realizing she had more plotting to do.
No, actually she didn't. She could go to Eric. She could tell her husband to send a cutter out to intercept the liner and divert its route away from where she knew the eels would be lurking. The craziest part of the plan… Ursula believed Eric would listen to her.
