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And then there was the matter of her eyes—green with flecks of gold that shimmered in the sunlight.

Now, however, something else shone within their depths, something sorrowful. But why?

She sang the final chorus as the men joined in, her voice harmonizing perfectly with the low hum of the others.

Now she says, “I watched for ye, darling,

I kept me eye on the sea.

I did what it took, now ye can’t come back to me.

But me love is still fast, me heart will ne’er roam,

‘twill wait, steadfast, ’til I come home.”

As the song ended, silence settled around the group. The waves rushed on the sand, and the fire snapped in its heat until finally, the spell Miss Hollow had weaved around the group was broken.

A few people around the fire clapped, though most of them whispered to their neighbors beside them—about what, Trevik could only fear.

“What we be singin’ next?” Gryffyn asked, finally breaking the silence.

A few songs were suggested, and Trevik tried to appear interested in what was being said, but when he took another glance at Miss Hollow, her eyes, still reflecting the fire, now shimmered with tears. Their gazes caught, but she swiftly pulled away, focusing on the sea instead.

Trevik’s heart contorted, though it shouldn’t have. He didn’t need to feel anything for the woman who’d expressed nothing but animosity toward him.

The next song was chosen, and Trevik did his best to keep his eyes from Miss Hollow, but blast it all, if he didn’t want to hear her singing again.

Did the others, as well? He cast his eyes around the group, only to stop a moment later when he caught onto Poppy whispering something to Lieutenant Harris, their shoulders pressed together.

The lieutenant smiled in response to her words, nudging her with his elbow. When he looked up, catching Trevik’s eye, the smile slipped from Lieutenant Harris’s lips, and his gaze dropped as he shifted farther away from Poppy.

Trevik grimaced. He’d hoped that Poppy’s admiration of the lieutenant would have faded away, but he could see now that it had only grown. Such feelings would do neither her nor the lieutenant any good.

The man had been injured in a shipwreck only a few months before, but with his arm now fully healed, it was only a matter of time before he set sail again. Was Poppy aware of such a thing? Or was she choosing to remain blissfully ignorant?

Either way, she would be heartbroken when the lieutenant’s departure inevitably came, and unfortunately, having one’s heart broken at the vulnerable age of sixteen was, in some ways, more painful than at any other period in one’s life.

Unless, of course, Trevik could stop the wound from even occurring.

“’Ave we time for another?” Gryffyn asked, the song having ended without Trevik even realizing.

“No, Gryffyn,” Edern Cardy responded. “’Tis time for a story, instead.” The man waved his wrinkled hands toward the children present. “Gather round. Methinks it be time for a cautionary tale.”

The children moved to sit before him, encouraged by their parents’ soft nods. Typically, Trevik enjoyed the tales the man would share, but for some reason that evening, he had the distinct feeling that Edern had something less than pleasant up his sleeve.

He exchanged worried glances with Gryffyn, who gave a commiserating shake of his head before Edern began.

“Many years ago,” Edern said, his sagging neck jiggling as he spoke, “a fisherman was out huntin’ for seals.”

Trevik winced. Of course Edern would choose this story. He glanced to Miss Hollow, catching her staring at him before she hurriedly looked away.

“With no luck on ’is ’unt,” Edern continued, “the fisherman was just about ready to give up when ’e came across a beautiful woman combin’ ’er ’air on a rock near the shore. She ’ad long locks, see, as golden as the sunshine, and ’er green eyes were as clear as the Cornish sea.”

Trevik rubbed a hand over his eyes. He was fairly certain the mermaid from the story had blue eyes and red hair. Had Edern changed it specifically for Miss Hollow’s benefit?

“The very moment ’is eyes fell on that woman, ’earin’ ’er pure singin’, the fisherman fell in love. So ’e asked ’er to marry ’im dreckly.”

Gryffyn’s youngest daughter, seven-year-old Ruby Bosanko, clasped her hands together in an airy sigh. She clearly did not remember the ending of this particular tale.