Kaid heard a gasp behind him as he fell to the water, unable to control his legs, because he no longer had legs. A royal blue fin replaced his lower limbs, small swirls of silver dancing between the scales.
Before he could observe the changes further, Maren gripped his arm so tightly beneath her sharp nails that she drew blood. She opened her mouth and a horrific, ear-piercing screech erupted from her while the world around Kaid went black.
Chapter 21
Asta’s vision was blurry as she attempted to take in her surroundings. She could hear thunder in the distance, and there was sand under her palms. Gulls cried from above and a salty pine scent seared into her nostrils, causing her sudden headache to worsen.
The beach. She was on the beach. But what was she doing there? She blinked hard a few times, forcing her eyes to focus.
It was just Asta, the sand around her, the crashing waves inches from her boots and a storm circling above the shore.
Kaid.
Her thoughts cleared in unison with her vision. Where was Kaid? Why had she passed out?
Then, she recalled the shrill sound her sister had made and her memories turned to black after that. Her sister, who was a finfolk princess. Who had been lying to her this whole time. Asta racked her brain for any evidence that could have led to solving the puzzle before now, but she couldn’t think of anything. She didn’t know enough about the mythical beings to actually know what the signs would have been, anyway.
And then there was Kaid. He was some sort of sea folk, but what kind? His tail didn’t match the finfolk tails, which resembled more of an eel shape. Kaid’s tapered down to a fork at the end. A siren, perhaps? Could the statues around the castle be an accurate depiction of what they looked like?
Asta pinched her own arm—convinced she was hallucinating—and yelped.
This is crazy. Last week these creatures weren’t even real and now I’m related to one?Asta gritted her teeth and let out a growl of frustration.
She cracked one knuckle after the other, grains of sand dropping from her fingertips. There was a faint throb in her left arm from the injuries, but she didn’t care about that right now. She needed to find her father. He had produced the heir to the finfolk kingdom, and she needed answers. It was as good a place as any to start, since there was no one left on this beach to interrogate. Her fatherhadto know something.
Her palms pounded on the threshold of the east wing as she entered from the terrace, and Asta did not stop to properly greetevery guard and staff member she passed. She didn’t have the patience for formalities currently.
She had a two mile walk down the beach to think about how to confront her father, each rehearsal playing out differently except for one factor—she was unbelievably angry with him. Her fists curled into tight balls at her sides as she stomped through the halls.
A light set of footsteps approached her side and Asta knew it was Linnea without looking.
“What happened?” Her cousin’s usually soft voice a bit on the harsher side.
Asta didn’t look at her lady-in-waiting as she hissed, “That’s what dear old father is about to tell me.”
Linnea gasped at Asta’s tone, which made the princess glance at her. Her cousin had purple bags under her eyes and the whites around her irises were bloodshot.
Asta stopped walking, stifling her fury long enough to speak to her cousin in the soft tone she deserved. “I’m sorry. Linnea, so much happened last night, and I need to talk to my father before I speak with anyone else about it.” Asta grabbed Linnea’s hands and squeezed them. “I want you to go back to my suite and eat, then take a nap. I’m going to see the mender after this, but I promise I’ll be there when you wake up. Okay? Then, I’ll explain everything I can.”
Linnea rubbed her wrist, but nodded and drifted away without another word.
As Asta continued stalking down the halls, she stopped a maid to ask that a fruit platter be sent to her suite for Linnea. The maid had scurried away to complete the mission in a hurry, clearly nervous of Asta’s current physical state.
The blonde princess paused outside of her father’s private office, staring at the mahogany double doors that towered overthe foyer. She still wasn’t quite sure what she would say to him but decided she would figure it out as she went.
The guards beside the office doors glanced wearily at each other as Asta stepped past them and tapped the doors before flinging them open. In front of her, a man with hair as white as snow sat at a desk, writing on various papers spread before him. The windows behind him displayed the main garden, which was now browning from the autumn frosts.
King Botmar removed his glasses and placed them on the desk before him. “Asta, my dear. What is it?”
She waited for the doors to shut behind her, thankful that the guards had stepped in and pulled them closed. “What is Maren?” Asta snapped.
Her father’s eyes went glassy and he stared straight ahead, notather, butthroughher. After a long moment, his vision re-focused as he asked, “What were we talking about, dear?”
Asta stepped forward to assess the king. “Maren. Your bastard daughter.What. Is. She?”
The emphasis on the last words caused a ringing in the glass of the oil lamp on the desk.
King Botmar pressed his green eyes shut, the same green as Asta’s. It made her want to ease up, release the invisible death grip she had around her father’s throat, but she couldn’t. He reached his hands up and squeezed his head, like he was fighting something inside his own mind.
