“Apparently coming of age means more than giving speeches,” he says without preamble, his eyes on his hands.
My heart starts pounding and my hand finds his shoulder. “Nik...”
“Mother is pleased because Annemette is the first of her ‘girls’ to arrive.”
My mouth goes dry. I should’ve seen this coming—among so many other things these past few days. Annemette must have passed the queen’s scrutiny, my aid unneeded.
“She had her ladies send letters to every high house in Denmark, inviting every princess, komtesse, and friherrinde to the Lithasblot Ball and God knows what else. Now that I’m sixteen, I should be courting, but Mother thought it wise to bring the girls to me.”
“Oh, Nik—” I start, but then he stares up at me, andthe look in his eyes makes my throat catch.
“Lured them in with Iker’s presence, too...”
Of course: the playboy prince, two years older, with brave tales of the sea. I bet every last girl with a title is on a steamer right now.
“Two princes for the price of one—we’re the market special,” he says. “No wonder Iker’s still at sea.”
He’s careful to smile at his joke—he’s trying to save my feelings. But I can’t grin back, not even a little bit. I want so badly to turn to stone like the statues in his mother’s garden. There must be a spell for that, no? At least then I wouldn’t have this rot of disappointment creeping up inside me. It turns out knowing better doesn’t always help. It makes it worse.
It’s funny, though—maybefunnyisn’t the right word, but Nik and I are both trapped. I’ll forever be the fisherman’s daughter, caught in a web of whispers and lies spread by those too scared to open their eyes and see beyond what’s in front of their faces. And Nik—he’ll be locked in by royal traditions, forced into a loveless match with someone only out for the crown. Nik will always be in the shadow of the castle. And nothing I can do will save him from that.
Except,if the queen already believes Annemette’s story, surely Annemette is better than these komtesses flocking to our shores. She does seem to make Nik happy. I know it’s only been a day, but even I’ll admit that I’ve never seen Nik smile as much as he has with her. It’s not everything,but it’s a start. And she’s not after his crown. That I know. She genuinely cares. Shesavedhim. Besides, it might serve us all well to finally have some magic in the palace, to perhaps bring an end to Queen Charlotte’s brutal warnings and doll burnings. Maybe as a trusted friend to both the crown princeandprincess, I wouldn’t be relegated to the kitchen door. My family would not have to live in secret. If Annemette makes Nik truly happy, we can both be free.Stop, Evie. You’re getting ahead of yourself.But a smile pulls on my lips all the same.
“Let’s go inside,” I say to him. “Everything will be okay. Annemette is waiting.”
13
IWAKE IN THE BLUE LIGHT OF THE MORNING AND SITstraight up. I thought a night in the royal wing, on the most comfortable mattress I’ve ever slept on, would do me well, but it hasn’t. I’m anxious.
I’ve smuggled a mermaid into the palace, for Urda’s sake!
In the bed across the room, Annemette sleeps, a ruffle of blond waves piled about her face. One foot has escaped the bedspread, five toes stretching lazily toward the ceiling.
It’s easy to forget that she’s never slept in a bed before. I throw off the covers and tiptoe to my trunk, left by Oleg next to the double-sided wardrobe. And there, beneath my underthings, is the book I threw in at the last minute. Though the name isn’t too suspect—Myths of Maritime—I suppose it’s lucky we arrived so late in the evening thatthe maid couldn’t unpack the trunk. I should’ve been more careful, though.
I crawl onto the plush red window seat and hold the book up to the new day’s light, thumbing through the pages for anything about mermaids. I know all the lore from childhood, of course. I can still hear Tante Hansa’s voice reciting the tales over the campfire.
Mermaids call sailors into storms, their siren songs and beauty too difficult to ignore.Probably a myth. Annemette is beautiful, but she didn’t force Nik into the sea, and I’d be able to tell if she was using magic on him now. I think.
Then there’sMermaids can conjure storms with a blink, sacrificing sailors to please the all-powerful sea.I hope to Urda that this is not true. A shiver runs up my spine as I think of Father and Iker.
But the one that always made me and Anna scream was:Mermaids steal naughty children and feed them to the sharks for protection.Ha! I’ll let Tante Hansa have that one. It kept me from making lots of unwise choices, though I suppose not nearly enough. If only Anna and I had truly listened.
None of this lore is easing my rattled nerves. The only positive mermaid tale I know is the one I saw with my own eyes:A kind mermaid may swim you to shore.
But there has to be more written about mermaids than a few childhood warnings.
After much reading, I finally find a section onmermaids, following an intensive discussion of the kraken. It doesn’t say much—there’s just slightly more detail than the descriptions I know by heart. I focus in on one paragraph.
Accounts of mermaids at the surface often come with tales of rescue—the saved sailor opening his eyes just as the mermaid dives back into the waves. The maids are always described as staying within the water, unable to leave the sea completely.
That was exactly how it happened. Maybe there will be more on what happens next. I turn the page, expecting a section on a mermaid’s ability to change into human form. But there is nothing. No description, no account, no guesses at all.
I stare at Annemette. She can’t be the first mermaid to change into a person. She can’t. It just must be so rare there’s not an accurate tale to pass on.
Possibly feeling the weight of my eyes on her, Annemette shifts, her arms stretching high above her head. Her eyes blink open and she sees me watching her. I expect her to startle, to forget where she is and what she is, but she doesn’t. Instead, she just yawns.
“I could get used to this.” She rolls fully toward me. A slim finger points to her calf. “But is it normal that this part just aches? Burns. And my toes are... tingly.”
