I thought Arlo wanted to kissme? I was such anidiot.Of course a man like Arlo had someone else. A beauty waiting for him in a port somewhere. He was handsome and kind. Men like him had women waiting for him. But me? I had no one. Maybe a spare cook’s son to screw behind an oak tree in secret. But not passion. Not romance.
I would only ever have secrets or betrothals.
“Nixie and Lumi mentioned going to a picnic in a little while. You should join them,” Morvyn said, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Are picnics not meant to take place outside?” I asked.
“When you see the glade, you’ll get it. Who knows, maybe you’ll even have a little fun,princess.” He winked.
I rolled my eyes. “Nota princess.”
We paused at my door. Morvyn lingered in the hallway, bathed in the soft glow spilling from the sea through the glass windows.
“I believe the qualification is to be the daughter of a king.” He booped me on the nose. “Check. And to of course have a royal air about oneself, and occasionally Isupposeyou meet that requirement. When you aren’t scowling or cursing wickedly.”
“Once my father had my mother executed and me delegitimized, I was no longer considered a princess. The only reason you and the others insist I’m his heir is because your leader seeks a strong ally in his war. Unfortunately for him, all he got was a waterlogged,illegitimatedaughter who was in the process of being banished on a damned cargo ship.”
“Well,” his lips quirked to one side, “who doesn’t love awetprincess?”
My eyes widened at the crass comment. “You’reabsolutelyrepugnant,” I sneered.
“I heard you were positively sopping when they found you,” he continued, earning a smack on his arm from me.
“All thanks to Tiny Toes and his terriblesteering,” he chuckled.
A smile swept across my lips, betraying my attempt to maintain composure. “You’re abhorrent!”
Morvyn had an irritating talent for cracking through my defenses and making me grin despite everything.
Our laughter settled.
Morvyn leaned against the wall across my door, his figure blending into it as he folded his long limbs before him. “Just so you know, I do care.”
“What?” I asked.
“Last night, after Calypstra outed you, you asked if I care. I do. When she did that, despite you holding it together wonderfully, I realized how afraid you might truly be here. How strange this all must be for you. I just kept thinking that I don’t want you to feel more uncomfortable because of us.”
“But why?” I asked, genuinely wanting to know, even if it was just a lovely lie told to keep me complacent.
“Besides you seem like a decent person,despiteyour terrible taste in men,” Morvyn started.
My face contorted in an attempt at offense.
“Because I think you need someone to care about you. Someone who believes in you for being you, not just some rich asshole’s daughter.”
For a second I let myself believe Morvyn cared. That the others maybe cared too.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime,Princess.”
Chapter 23
In my bedchamber, I sank onto the plush bed, the softness enveloping me as fish glided past the large tracery window overlooking the open sea. I turned my attention to the sky-blue journal in my hands, running a fingertip over the well-worn cover. I opened it and read.
I will love him for the rest of my existence and beyond. Even if that love existed for only a single breath, I would love him again and again, no matter how short-lived or how much the circumstances changed. Because the nights beneath the sea in Naiadon are when I feel truly at home. Each morning I curse the sun for its betrayal, for shedding its light on my reality, and damn the Guardians for making me human and he siren. The world seems bent against us, forcing me to leave Aegir each night.
Aegir. Hylos’s father. This journal belonged to his lover. Was it Hylos’s mother? Was she … human? Was that even possible?
