But if she couldn’t get her mother to call off the contract, and she was unable to do it herself, that did leave her with one other option.
She could get her prospective husband to call it off.
The more she thought about it, the more genius it seemed.
The fish, satisfied with a job well done, swam back to their lives as Iris straightened.
It could just work.
She would have to be careful.
If it got back to Tatiana that she’d been deliberately difficult or hostile, she would be in a world of trouble. If, however, she simply made herself undesirable to her new fiancé by being … aggressively mermaidian—insisting on absurd rituals, making up wildly exaggerated mermaid customs that theymustfollow, mentioning impractically extravagant living accommodations—she might just be able to get this human to rethink his desire to marry one of her kind.
She was going to make this Finn Westrock guy regret the day he asked for a marriage contract with a mermaid.
Operation: Horrify the Human was officially underway.
2
Finn
“Remind me why I’m doing this again?” Finn asked.
He moved in front of the massive mirror leaned up against the wall in his office to smooth a hand down his suit.
It was blue.
It was always blue.
Blue evoked feelings of trustworthiness and approachability to constituents. Or, at least, that was what decades of research had concluded.
Black was too somber, tan too casual. And gray was often the color worn by lawyers. And no one wanted to be associated with lawyers.
Blue hit the sweet spot, especially when paired with a crisp white shirt and a lighter blue tie. Not red, which was too aggressive and power-hungry. Or even striped, which people couldn’t put a finger on why they didn’t like but didn’t, regardless.
‘Color theory’ was just one of the many strategic moves being used by Henry, Finn’s campaign manager. And only friend in the world.
What that said about Finn, he chose not to think about.
Finn’s gaze moved over the rest of his appearance to check for anything out of place: neatly styled brown hair, his cleanly shaven square jaw, and the green eyes that Henry insisted were just the right shade—not too dark to seem like he’d gone to a witch for an enchantment spell on them, but not too light that they made him look like a revenant.
“Because you are falling behind in the polls,” Henry said. He was slouched on the couch in the corner of the room, one of his long legs crossed over the other at the ankle, his pants riding up to reveal socks printed with some amorphous cat character from an old cartoon.
Finn had to wear white socks, no exceptions. And he could never miss a trim or teeth-whitening appointment.
Henry’s own light brown hair was brushing the collar of his suit jacket. And he’d never gotten his crooked eye tooth fixed.
“I’m not the politician; you are,” he’d reminded Finn when he’d mentioned it.
“It’s early yet,” Finn insisted.
“That is the exact type of thinking that is going to have you losing this race.” Henry snapped the newspaper closed and stood as he folded it. “You need an advantageous marriage to a prominent member of one of the supernatural royal families. You know as well as I do that it’s important to make it clear we respect their dedication to stick to their old ways while also existing within a larger democratic rule. Marrying a member of one of theroyal families will send that message of mutual respect loud and clear.”
“Fine. But why a mermaid?”
“Well, a mermaid would certainly look nice on your arm,” Henry said. Finn’s nose wrinkled at that. He was willing to concede that an arranged marriage would be good for his image and career. But he didn’t love the idea of choosing someone just because they were beautiful. “And they were the only family who asked for a reasonable request in exchange for the union. The vampires wanted the removal of bite consent cards.”
Finn ignored that sticky subject.
