How did I get so attached to an inhuman being? How do I feel more at ease with him than anyone else, including my best friend? Why am I so attracted to him when I don’t desire the prince who wants to marry me?
For being inhuman, my merman Fae King is the most human man I have ever met.
And meanwhile, the world goes on around me as if nothing is amiss, as if my heart isn’t breaking a little more every minute I spend away from the lake, away from his voice, his touch, his smile.
Prince Iason is here, with his father, and the palace is a pandemonium of voices and music and laughter. Too loud. Too unnecessary.
One of the formal parlors has been decorated with flowers—crystal vases with rose bouquets standing on every table, flower garlands hanging on the walls. The scent of blossoms is heavy in the air. The windows are closed and I’m suffocating in my green gown. The presence of my family and a palace scribe feels oppressive. They seem more like guards ready to grab me if I run than supportive faces.
Do they really believe they know what is best for me? Can they think beyond their trade alliances? Were they forced to marry people they didn’t love and are now doing the same to their children?
Is there any way out of this?
Hard to think when Prince Iason has already gone down on one knee in front of me, smiling, a lacquer box resting on the palm of his hand. He looks more handsome today than before, his hair like waves of gold, his dark eyes earnest, his shoulders straight in his formal black jacket. The fine golden crown on his head glitters as he bows his head to me.
“Princess Selina.”
“Prince Iason.” I nod at him. I sit stiffly on the velvet settee, my mother on one side, my father on the other. I’ve rarely seen my father over the years, and his tall, forbidding presence beside me does more to stress me out than to calm me down.
“Get on with it, son,” Prince Iason the First says with an impatient wave of his hand. “We have business to discuss.”
“Let the children take their time,” my mother says, though the tension in her body speaks of impatience. “You don’t make a wedding proposal every day.”
“I should hope not,” my father mutters.
It’s not funny at all. I’m sick to my stomach with nerves and uncertainty, with all the arguments for and against. I had another speech from Lily back in my room, and from my mother right before we entered the parlor, their arguments still echoing in my ears.
Honor. Expectations. Stability. Security. Duty.
And then I think of Adar and the arguments crumble, emotions replacing them – wild joy that makes you laugh, longing that makes you weep, love that makes you cry tears of happiness.
I toy with the bracelets on my wrist. A swan charm that wasn’t meant for me. A merman charm given with no promises.
I only have one heart and I cannot cut it in two—yet it feels as though I don’t have to. All of my heart, all of me has already been given to one man.
And it’s not the one kneeling in front of me.
“Princess Selina,” Iason says, “it is my honor to present to you this ring…” He opens the small box and takes out a heavy golden ring crowned with a pale diamond. “It belongs to my family, and I would like you to belong to my family, too. With this ring, I am asking you to marry me and be by my side for all time to come—”
“Iason,” I say.
He blinks. “Yes?”
“Selina!” my mother hisses. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t in good conscience accept your proposal,” I say, lifting my hand, “not while wearing a bracelet you had made for princess Eleana.”
Gasps fly around the parlor—because everyone and their grandmother are there to ogle and gossip.
“What is the meaning of this?” my mother asks.
Iason’s father says nothing.
Iason himself has paled. “Swans,” he whispers. “Swans and herons.”
“That’s right.” I lift my chin. “Perhaps you gave her a bracelet meant for me? Something with roses, something with flowers that I told youIlike?”
He pales more. “Ohshit.”