“Father,” Heath stammered. “Grandmother.”
Percival spun around at his brother’s words, even as their grandmother spoke.
“That was very impressive, Heath!” Her tone was warm, and Heath managed a small smile. She was possibly his favorite person in the world, but her approval couldn’t quite make up for the look of grave concern on the face of her son beside her.
“I thought you chose not to compete, Heath,” said the duke mildly.
“I did, Father,” said Heath quickly. “I didn’t even want to compete…” His words trailed off as his father raised one eyebrow. The duke’s gift was an ability to identify deception, so he would surely realize, as Heath had done himself, that those words weren’t entirely true. Heath exchanged a look with his brother, who gave him a sympathetic grimace. They had often bemoaned how unjust life was, to give them a father with such an ability.
“I was just fooling around, Father,” Heath tried again. “I didn’t mean for anyone but Percival, and Brody and Bianca, to see.” That much at least was entirely true, and it was clear that the duke knew it.
His look of disapproval disappeared, but the concern in his eyes lingered as he glanced at the few spectators still in the stands. They wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said, but they were watching the exchange with great interest, and the buzz of their conversation could be heard even from where Heath stood.
“Well,” said the duke, in a voice clearly intended to close the topic, at least for now. “Your grandmother heard that you particularly wanted to speak with her, Heath, so we came looking for you.”
“Grandmother,” Heath greeted the princess again. “How was your time in Kyona?”
“Lovely, thank you, Heath,” she said, her eyes thoughtful as they rested on him. “Why don’t you come and have a cup of tea with me, so I can tell you all about it?”
Heath nodded, swallowing nervously as he offered his arm.
“Thank you, Norik,” she said to the duke, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. “And I’ll see you three at the jousting final,” she added to Percival, Brody, and Bianca with a smile.
They all murmured their agreement to their grandmother, taking their dismissal in good part. Heath and the older woman walked silently together. Their progress was slow, due to frequent interruptions as the princess—still very popular with the people—responded to the many greetings of courtier and commoner alike. They didn’t attempt conversation until they were settled in her receiving room, and the servant who brought their tea tray had bowed herself out.
“Well,” said the elderly princess, leaning back in her chair. “That was quite a shot, Heath.”
Heath smiled wanly. “A good shot, but a bad decision.”
“Hm.” His grandmother didn’t speak for a moment, just assessing him with her steady scrutiny. “Don’t try to tell me you’re not troubled,” she said at last. “I can see that you are.”
Heath sighed, and she nodded decisively, as if he had confirmed her words aloud.
“I thought so.” She leaned forward, pouring him some tea. “Tell me everything.”
CHAPTER NINE
Merletta flicked her fins as she made her way through the passages of the Center. She was up early, but not so early that the complex was deserted. Every now and then she passed another mermaid or merman. Most gave her a brief nod once they took in her uniform shells and the armband now affixed to her upper arm. She couldn’t help but straighten her back a little with pride. The difference was noticeable in the reaction of strangers to her appearance.
She swam quickly across the drop off, passing through the receiving hall and out into Skulssted, heading north. She had no particular desire to visit Tilssted, and she certainly wasn’t planning to go to the home. But that direction seemed the safest, as anyone watching her would assume she was visiting her old accommodations. Plus she was well practiced in exiting the city from that general location.
It was surreal, swimming through her old neighborhood. It had only been a couple of days since she lived there, but it felt like a lifetime. So much had changed.
She gave the district where the charity home was located a wide berth, not eager to bump into anyone she knew. She was just entering the kelp farm when the sound of arguing voices drew her attention. Hanging back, she tried to avoid detection as she observed a scene that had become all too familiar in recent years.
A broad-shouldered merman—presumably the owner of this stretch of farm—was locked in a hot dispute with some builders. The cause of their argument was clear from the stones stacked nearby and the chiseled bedrock that indicated the beginning of a new construction. Merletta shook her head. If the regent of Tilssted kept trying to push the settlements into the farms like this, these shouting matches were going to turn into armed clashes. She’d heard that the regents of the other two cities put great pressure on Tilssted to take more than its share of the growing population. But Tilssted had to start sticking up for itself. Their resources were already stretched much too thin.
She slipped past the mermen, disappearing between the towers of kelp. The sun had risen now, way up above the surface, and the farm laborers were already at work. But she didn’t need to worry about them. Long experience told her they weren’t interested in reporting her wanderings to the guards.
She decided to ascend closer to the surface before leaving the kelp farms, as the workers tended to start low and go higher throughout the morning, meaning they were less likely to see her actually leave the outer boundary of the city. She nodded as she passed a pair of middle-aged mermaids who had begun their methodical journey up one of the tall kelp towers, and they barely glanced her way as they nodded back.
“Probably escaping one of those homes,” one of them said quietly to the other, stifling a yawn. Clearly they couldn’t see her armband through the fronds of kelp.
“As long as she doesn’t get too high, and start to dry out.”
Merletta smiled to herself as the other mermaid’s anxious reply reached her through the water. The woman obviously had a kind heart, but she didn’t need to worry about Merletta.
It was evident that the two workers thought she was exploring the kelp farms. It probably didn’t occur to them that she would want to go beyond. She wouldn’t be the first merchild to choose to live as a castaway on the streets, seeking refuge in the kelp farms at night, instead of enduring the restrictions of a charity home. She had considered it, before the elderly merman had begun teaching her to read. After that point she realized that however insufficient it might be, the education she could attain at the home was worth putting up with all the rest.