“May I ask what happened between you? You speak fondly of him, and yet I’ve seen you do nothing but argue since you arrived.”
Ceri wiped her face with her handkerchief. “My brother and I…He’s much older than me, you know? Nearly twelve years older. By the time I was born, our mother was spending most of her time in her homeland. And our father, well, you’ve met our father. But Idris…he was there for me. I idolized him. Even as Father turned against him, even as he did his best to keep usapart. Idris didn’t care. He’d come and interrupt my lessons to take me outside to fly kites from the castle walls. He’d bring me books and dolls and toys from far-off places, writing to traders and merchants to find me something I’d never seen before. He taught me to draw, taught me to skim stones, taught me how to find blackberries in the woods to eat at the end of summer.
“And then one day, he left for university, and he didn’t come back. I thought he’d forgotten me.”
“That must have been hard,” said Rinka kindly, “thinking you’d been abandoned.”
“Father took me under his wing then, and I hated Idris for years. I was cruel to him every chance I got. By the time I’d heard more of what happened between them, he hated me too.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” said Rinka. “I think he just believes that you’re on your father’s side.”
Ceri smirked. “Idris never learned how to manage Father. There’s an art to it, in getting him to believe that your idea is his own. And it requires a certain willingness to play the part he wants you to play. He believes I’m a spoiled brat, and so I am. Idris never wanted to play along. Although, given everything that happened with them, I’m not sure it would have made a difference.”
She took Rinka’s hand and looked at her with a great deal of sincerity. “Lady Rinka, you’ve been kind to me, and so I’m going to tell you something that I think you need to know. Idris is going to be furious with me, and he’s going to accuse me of using this to get back at him or to manipulate you or something, but if I were you, I’d want to know, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t told you.”
Rinka’s mind raced. What in the world was going on? Was this a part of the princess’s trickery? She had just admitted to playing a part, so Rinka knew she could act if the occasion required it.
Rinka was in over her head.
Ceri continued. “Do you know about the Curse of the Air?”
“Oh,” said Rinka, relaxing once more. “Yes, he did tell me that. He can’t fly.”
“That’s the part everyone knows,” said Ceri. “But it isn’t just the Curse of the Air. It’s the Curse of the Air and the Heir.”
“I don’t understand,” said Rinka, unable to hear the difference.
“Theheir,” said Ceri again. “The heir to the throne. Idris will have no heir. It was the second part of the curse, the part my father went to great lengths to conceal.”
“What?” asked Rinka. Her head was spinning. What did it mean to have no heir?
“He’ll never have children,” said Ceri. “I’m sorry. I thought you ought to know.”
Rinka was at a loss. She had no idea how to respond, and she was certain that she wore her lack of certainty on her face.
If this was indeed a manipulation, Ceri must have known that it had worked.
But Ceri, to her credit, did not show a hint of joy or triumph or mockery on her face. Instead, she just looked sad.
“I—thank you, your highness,” said Rinka finally after a long pause. “For telling me.”
“I’m glad that you’re here this summer,” said Ceri. “I hope that doesn’t ruin it for you. And I hope you believe me that I took no joy in telling you. You were going to find out eventually.”
Rinka nodded.
“Would you like to walk with me back to the manor? It sounds as though the ball is winding down now,” said Ceri.
“No, I think I’ll stay here for a little while,” said Rinka. “I need a moment to think.”
“I understand,” said Ceri. “Thank you again, Lady Rinka.”
The princess left Rinka with her thoughts.
The Curse of the Heir.
The first thing Rinka felt was sympathy for Idris. What a terrible, terrible thing to curse a child with, and for something he didn’t even do. Rinka could not imagine losing so much so young, especially not when, as a member of the royal family, he was expected to marry and have children.
Rinka understood then why his father wanted him to abdicate the throne, why he wanted to himself. And she realized what must have come between him and his former fiancée, the part of the story he’d kept from the mermaids.
