“A bit pale today.” His voice never rose above that calm, terrifying whisper. “Pre-wedding nerves, perhaps? How charming.”
“The collar is tight.”
“It’s supposed to be.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We wouldn’t want our guests distracted by your… modifications. Today is about celebrating our upcoming union, not gawking at your father’s scientific achievements.” A beat of pause. “However impressive they might be.”
He offered her his arm.
Everything in her screamed to refuse, to slap his hand away, to run from the village and never look back.Play along,she reminded herself.Let him think he’s won.
The village was chaos.
People packed the main thoroughfare, their voices blending into a cacophony that made her sensitive ears ache. The smell of fried food and spilled beer hung heavy in the air, mixing with the ever-present salt of the sea.
Merrick guided her through the crowd with the ease of a man accustomed to parting seas. His bodyguards preceded them, but she suspected that the villagers would have stepped aside anyway. People bowed their heads at his approach, their expressions a mix of respect and fear. He acknowledged their deference with small nods, a benevolent lord gracing his subjects with his presence.
“The announcement will be at noon,” he murmured, leaning close enough that his breath ghosted across her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “All you need to do is stand beside me and smile. Can you manage that, my dear?”
I can manage to throw myself into the harbor.
“Of course.”
“Excellent.” His grip on her arm tightened almost imperceptibly. “After the announcement, we will join the mayor for a private luncheon. I plan to… demonstrate some of your capabilities.”
A cold dread washed over her.Demonstrate.Like she was one of her father’s prototypes. A new piece of tech to be unveiled at a trade show.
He watched the color drain from her face, the faint flicker of panic she couldn’t quite suppress, and a cold smile touched his lips. “Now, now,” he soothed, patting her hand with a proprietary touch that made her want to scream. “No need for alarm. A simple demonstration is all. A display of the… advantages our union will bring. Think of it as an investment in your future happiness.”
They stopped near the main platform where the mayor was already holding court, her voice amplified by a crackling speaker system. As they waited, an older woman with a hard face and a self-important air came bustling over.
“Mr. Bane. May I say that your presence in our village?—”
“Who are you?” he interrupted, his voice icy.
The woman looked flustered for a second, then straightened her shoulders.
“My name is Margaret Jacobson and I?—”
“Are of no importance to me. Leave.”
The woman looked so shocked that Ariella would have felt sorry for her if she hadn’t heard her gossiping about the “freak from the lab” one day.
“But—”
Merrick turned his back on her as he signaled to one of his bodyguards. A hand clamped down on the woman’s arm and then she was gone. Swift, efficient, ruthless. No one objected. Just like no one would object to her marriage, no matter how much she protested.
“And now, I’m pleased to announce the sponsor of this festival, Mr. Merrick Bane.”
The mayor’s voice crackled from the speaker again, accompanied by a round of polite applause. A crowd had already gathered, drawn by the promise of an important announcement. She recognized some of the faces—merchants she’d dealt with, scientists who’d visited the lab, dock workers who’d helped unload her father’s equipment. They looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and something that might have been pity.
They know,she realized.Everyone knows what’s about to happen.
Merrick led her up the steps and positioned her at his side, slightly behind and to the left. The perfect placement for a trophy. His hand remained locked around her elbow, a reminder that escape was not an option.
Her gills strained against the fabric about her neck, desperate for air that wouldn’t come. The collar was too tight, the dress too heavy, the crowd too loud?—
I can’t do this.
Merrick stepped forward, releasing her arm to grip the podium with both hands. His hawk-like features were arranged in a benevolent expression, and when he spoke, his soft voice somehow carried across the entire square.
