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He gasps, a smile on his face. “Oline.” He shows me his screen. She’s a Glyden mermaid eight years older than him. A good match in a few years’ time, when she’s done having podlets.
“Good for you.” I shake my head. “The one I want to dance with won’t be allowed to dance with anygeminae. Not tonight.”
“Arabel?”
“Just Belle to me.” I nod. My stomach’s hollow, and I wonder how many more nights I’ll have with her. And Nico too. How many more days will I have my friend to watch over?
Speaking of Nico, he’s glaring at the tunnel too. When Kai pops out, I know Belle and Ophelia are next. The crowd applauds. Ophelia’s mates are waiting for her up the ramp on a balcony overlooking the crowd.
The dress I bought Belle is perfect. I paid for it, even when Rodrick the clerk thought I was deranged for not putting it on Nico’s account. Her account. I wanted to buy it, even if she doesn’t know I did. And I’m glad she chose it, not one of the more opulent ones Ophelia picked out.
Belle walks ahead of Ophelia, the duchess entering the ball last. When Belle arrives at the top of the ramp, she gives the perfect pivot and curtesy to Ophelia before she settles in along the railing.
Ophelia smiles, taking Galen’s arm. Standing at the railing, she holds her arms up. The crowd of males stops their typing and scrolling.
“Mermaids and mermen. Thank you for attending the Glyden ball to welcome Arabel Portsmouth. The future of Doria.” She nods to Galen. He hits a button, unlocking the dance schedules on the blocks.
Murmurs of delight and frustration go through the crowd as mermaids’ dance cards fill up. Castor’s Da, Julius, hands the block to Ophelia. With care, she picks the dances for Kai first, it seems. Looking around the room, I know of at least three males who would like to join her pod. And the smiles on their faces are wide.
“Yes,” Jonas yells in my ear, showing me he has a dance with Oline.
Castor is staring at his mother. Her shoulders drop, and she glares back. Castor slides his block into his tunic, his eyes not leaving his mother.
“No dance for you?” I ask.
“None that I want.” He leaves the group of us.
Nico stops by me.
“Don’t you need to get your mate?” The first dance is always for a mate, and since he’s the only mate Belle has, it’s a given they’ll be dancing together.
“Mill about. Listen to everyone. People know we’re close, but with enough dragon ale and champagne in their systems, they might forget. I need to know what people are saying about Annabelle.”
I nod and leave the smiling Jonas, wandering to the other side of the room, taking my time. Like I don’t have a care in the world.
“Holter,” a crew mate of mine calls. I am slow. “Holy kraken. She’s beautiful tonight.”
I laugh. “Which ‘she’ are you referring to?”
“Our Arabel, of course.”
“Our?”
“Yes, it’s theCentaurithat brought her to the Veiled City. It’s how all the guys are referring to her. Our Arabel.”
“It’s Annabelle.”
“Right. Annabelle. That’s some gown she’s wearing. She matches the future king. Is he going to be in her pod?”
I wince. I can’t help it. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”
I shrug. What else can I do? “It’s not a matter I’m familiar with.”
He laughs. “Sure.”
“Excuse me.” I weave in and out of the crowd, watching as Nico fetches Annabelle from the balcony and escorts her down the ramp by the hand.
