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“What do you mean?”
But even as she spoke, Merletta’s eyes passed around the garden. Emil was right that many eyes were directed toward her. Even Andre’s parents kept glancing her way, their expressions a little tense.
“Inviting an individual for their own sake, rather than a family, is kind of…a statement,” Sage supplied, looking uncomfortable again. “Especially when, well, when the invitation comes from a young merman toward a young mermaid.”
Merletta froze in horror, finally understanding the overblown reactions of everyone who’d heard about Andre’s invitation.
“So everyone will think that Andre…” She swallowed, embarrassment washing over her. Her eyes sought Sage’s. “He didn’t think that, did he? When I asked him last night to invite me, he didn’t think—”
“No, no,” Sage cut her off reassuringly, shaking her head. “He could see as well as I could that you had no idea what you were really asking. It’s everyone else who’s the problem.”
Merletta groaned, resisting the urge to cover her face with her hands. Better not to show her humiliation so plainly to everyone still covertly watching the small group.
“Do you understand now what I meant about putting a target on Andre’s back?” Emil asked.
Merletta flicked her tail in distress. “I do. And I wish you’d told me this before I made a fool of both myself and Andre, Sage.”
“I didn’t know how,” Sage admitted apologetically. “I dithered so long trying to figure out how to explain it, that you blurted it out to Andre, and then it was in his hands. And he clearly didn’t know how to tell you, either. Once he’d invited you, it didn’t seem like there was anything to be gained from telling you why I advised against the idea initially.”
“I need to leave,” Merletta said curtly. “Before I do any more damage. I’ve done what I came to do, and clearly my presence is preventing Andre’s family from enjoying the celebration.”
“There’s no need for that,” Sage protested, but Merletta was already edging toward the door.
“It may not be safe for you to wander around alone.” Emil frowned. “Perhaps I’d better swim you back to Sage’s house.”
Merletta shook her head emphatically. “The last thing we need is a target on your back, too. I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t give her friends any more opportunity to argue. She was trying her best to hide it, but she’d never been so mortified in her life. She’d come to appreciate Andre’s friendship a great deal, but the idea of romance with him was laughably absurd.
As she fled through the bustling streets of Skulssted, one face popped inevitably into her mind. When her thoughts strayed toward romance, there was only one direction they ever flowed.
She went straight past Sage’s house, heading northward almost without thinking about it. She felt like a startled minnow fleeing toward its own school, driven by an instinctive fear of being separated from its group. Because although she’d become more comfortable with Sage and the others than she would have believed possible when she first started the program, the day’s events showed the truth. They weren’t her people, not really. Nor were the Tilssted dwellers she grew up with. Even Tish had made it clear Merletta was too dangerous a friend for her to have.
Even though he’d been absent for weeks, and there was no reason to think he’d come today, Merletta found herself making for Vazula from force of habit. Because when she asked herself who she felt comfortable and safe with, there was only one name that fit. It was ridiculous, because the barriers which divided them—both practical and cultural—were far greater than any between her and Andre. And yet, there was no comparison.
“Heath.” The name slipped out without Merletta intending to speak aloud, just as she crossed the barrier and left the triple kingdoms behind. “I really need you right now.”
Chapter Three
Heath tuned out the discussion around him, his thoughts on something far from the council room in which he sat.
Reka, he thought, mentally repeating the familiar name with focused intensity.
An image flickered into his mind, of Rekavidur stretched out on the grass, looking utterly at ease, and endearingly similar to a cat basking in a patch of sunlight. Behind the dragon, a rocky shelf rose up, flashes of purple showing amidst the gray. What the color denoted, Heath had no idea. And that was encouraging in itself.
It proved that the picture was no figment of his imagination, conjured up when he thought of his friend. It was a true reflection of Reka’s current situation. It was a successful use of Heath’s farsight.
Heath smiled, pleased with his progress.
“Lord Heath. Do I take your amusement to mean you agree with my observation?”
The pompous voice of Lord Niel disrupted Heath’s focus, and the image cut off abruptly.
Irked, Heath turned an expressionless face to the peer. “I’m flattered that you value my opinion so highly, My Lord.”
“I didn’t say—” Lord Niel started, but Prince Lachlan cut him off.
“Of course we would like to hear your views, Lord Heath,” he said, a bite to his voice.
