“Don’t despair. Having a beta-mer as a mother, of course you don’t know these things. You should have come to me sooner. Many have issue when it comes to the act. I’ll set up a private class with the mer matrons. They’ll show you the dance. Then when Azor returns, you’ll feel more confident.” The Queen smiled innocently and patted her arm. “Now, collect your things and come with me to the palace. There is a lot to do.”
Tatiana clamped her mouth shut and tried to wash away the humiliation. The Queen might as well have stamped “frigid” on her forehead, and her cheeks caught flame under her skin. If it wasn’t so embarrassing, she would have confessed to the Queen her failure to please Prince Azor wasn’t because of her lack of trying.
A male cleared his throat in the hall. “Princess?”
Jacob. At his voice, she really wanted to die. She already knew his displeasure in her appeasing Azor, but did he know, too, that she hadn’t done it yet? Did the entire palace know? Was everyone talking about her supposed ick?
She buried her face in her hands.
“Princess?” he asked again. “I’m ready to escort you.”
Tatiana pressed her eyes shut, determined not to let Queen Desiree ruffle her, and reopened them with new resolve. Azor’s obsession with work clearly had prevented him from consummating their union, and the ick was a kinder excuse for why they weren’t pregnant yet—so much better than saying he was too busy. Could that be the real reason? The only reason? She groaned at the thought.
But she knew, after their brief tryst yesterday, it wasn’t a matter of desire. Guilt from indulging in pleasure over his duties had prevented him from giving into it. And then snoopy Xirene didn’t help. If she didn’t get his mind off of work, her barren womb would raise suspicions. Most newly promised couples were pregnant within the first week, unless something was physically wrong, or one partner was a beta, which usually made pregnancy difficult to achieve. A week hadn’t passed, well, not yet. Was the entire kingdom counting? Oh, Poseidon. If she didn’t look pregnant soon, she’d be labeled defective.
Her eyes rolled back into her head, her stomach churning. No. She’d help Azor get his focus off of work and onto her. Somehow. He’d chosen her after all and she’d make him proud—and soon—before she was doomed to be… replaced.
At the thought of watching another mermaid cling to his arm and bear his shoal, she wanted to vomit.
Sea stars, she moaned on the inside.
“Princess?” Jacob asked again. “We shouldn’t keep the Queen waiting.”
“Yes,” Tatiana said warily as she swam out of her room with a fake smile and her head held high.
If Sandy was able to get the message to Dorian, Azor wouldn’t find her family and he’d come straight home to Natatoria. Then she’d make him want her—as soon as he returned. Once she became pregnant, she’d flaunt her full belly for the entire kingdom to see, the first being the Queen. Then everyone would be happy, too happy to punish the rebels, too happy for war.
9
: : :
Birds and the Bees
The entourage of merfolk exited out the front doors of the compound in a massive school; the Queen and ten or so of the guards surrounding her in front, while Jacob and Tatiana hung in the back. Jacob’s straight face and alert eyes weren’t typical of his normal self at the compound. Being a secret rebel, she could see how he’d be uncomfortable, but his fearful reaction unnerved her.
“Are you okay, Jacob?” Tatiana asked in a low tone.
Jacob continued to survey the landscape, never once looking at her directly. “Yes, Princess. Just stay close to me. Never wander alone in the palace.”
Her lips curled into a smirk. This is what bothered him? She wanted to snort at his over-protectiveness and constant attempts to poke his tail into her business. Instead, she saluted him to be funny. “Sure thing, Captain.”
He squinted at her for a brief second as if to say, “Stop joking around and wise up.” The deep grooves in his scowl hit her like a smack to the cheek.
Tatiana broke eye contact and glanced across the horizon at the palace. Desolate and quiet, not a single mer was in sight. An eerie feeling crept over her as an earlier conversation she’d overheard between Shanleigh and Coralade sunk in. They’d said the mer matrons had refused to sing, in mourning for the jailed rebels. And since Azor had accused all beta-mers without alibis of treason, no one knew how long the punishment would last—making everyone crazy with worry. But to experience the void of song left a deep yearning inside Tatiana. She choked down her own melody that bubbled behind her quivering lips.
The group swam in unison to the northern side, where only royalty entered. Being newly mated, this was her first time using this entrance and a strange excitement tickled inside her. That was until she saw the guards. Light from the room sparkled down into the water from the extra large opening in the palace floor; illuminating two figures cloaked in green, holding their ghastly scythes—Dradux. As she surfaced into the room, passing through their oyster stench, she inhaled the air and shook off their vampiric appearance. Did they always guard the royal entrances?
Before her, a white marble floor stretched the length of the room. Queen Desiree slipped behind the sea grass privacy curtain, phased into legs, and walked across the floor without missing a beat. With a quick unclipping of her skirt’s train, the soft shush of sparkling fabric fell like a waterfall down behind her long legs.
Jacob and the rest of the guards reached for sunbeams from the sun-tunnels in various places and leapt up onto the floor as well. Tatiana followed Queen Desiree’s lead. Behind the curtain, she basked in the sunlight and marveled as the scales faded from her skin. But at the sight of her bare thighs, she recalled she’d never fashioned herself a complete skirt and tugged down at the small swatch of cloth tied around her hips.
Panic seeped into her as she peeked out from behind the sea grass and scanned the emptying room for help. She couldn’t join the Queen’s audience practically naked.
Jacob softly grunted when he motioned she exit.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
He furrowed his brow. “Why not? The Queen is waiting.”
“I don’t have a skirt on,” she whispered, hard.
Jacob’s cheeks flushed, then he pinched his eyes shut. “Dang it, Princess.”
He looked around in desperation and motioned a servant girl over. They whispered to one another, but the girl merely gawked. Each passing second squeezed Tatiana’s chest tighter. She needed to follow the Queen without disruption.
The servant girl jumped into the porthole pool. With a wiggle of her hips, she produced her own skirt.
“H-here,” she said with an outstretched hand.
Tatiana blinked, disbelieving this girl gave up her skirt, in front of the Dradux below, no doubt.
“No, I couldn’t,” Tatiana argued.
“I’ll get another. Just go!”
Tatiana reluctantly took the skirt and let the curtain fall. She inspected the dripping white skirt hemmed in blue. She couldn’t enter audience with a servant’s skirt on, nor could she arrive naked. With a quick jerk against the blue fabric, the offending trim pulled free like perforated paper.
Perfect!
She pulled on the skirt and tied the purple swatch at her waist as an accessory, and with a quick jump to her feet, she was ready to run to the audience room if need be. Her locked-up legs had a different idea. Slipping on the marble in her bare feet like she were on roller-skates for the first time, she toppled forward, hands splayed to catch her fall. Jacob darted forward and swooped his arms around her waist, catching her just in time.
“I’ve got you, Princess,” he said softly, setting her upright.
Tatiana’s cheeks flared, not from embarrassment, but the rush flooding across her skin from Jacob’s touch. She smiled and smoothed her hands down her skirt before attempting another go at walking. Jacob proffered his arm instead, which she took, and caught herself hoping for the same thrill.<
br />
“Right this way, milady.”
Tatiana turned to the girl in the pool and mouthed a, “thank you,” to which she smiled.
The Queen had already settled onto her throne, ready to engage the first mer citizen when Tatiana entered the chamber. All heads were bowed and Tatiana quickly lowered hers as well.
“Oh, yes. There you are.” Desiree motioned Tatiana to sit in an empty chair at the end of the row of princesses. Tatiana grinned, happy to meet her approval. Then the Queen’s eyes fell down to Tatiana’s skirt and her smile melted off her face.
“Um… Girraween, sweetheart, please help Princess Tatiana find something more presentable to wear.”
“Oh, yes.” The Princess perked up and bounced over to Tatiana, grabbing her hand, but not soon enough.
A small gasp escaped the lips of the occupants in the room as they turned and stared. Tatiana’s cheeks practically ignited in response. The only thing she needed to finish her servant attire was a pair of white gloves.
Oblivious, Girraween pulled Tatiana through the halls of the palace past rooms Tatiana had never seen before. The vast expanse shocked her, especially since she’d been under the impression that most of the palace was underwater. They passed a library with ceiling to floor bookshelves, flanked with busts of prior Kings. At the sight of the rows upon rows of books, Tatiana practically salivated, envisioning herself snuggled in an oversized chair, drifting off into another world—a human world she loved and missed—and wished she and Azor kept residence there instead of the waterlogged compound.
Girraween didn’t notice Tatiana’s longing and pulled her through the endless maze, stopping before two white wooden doors on shiny brass hinges shaped like fleur-de-lis.
“Here,” she said, opening one side. “This is my room.”
Lush white carpet covered the expanse of a room bigger than the first floor of the Tahoe house. Couches lined the walls filled with a variety of stuffed animals and the center featured a four-poster bed with a lacy canopy.
The Princess ran over to her humongous closet with mirror-covered doors and threw them open. Skirts and tops of every color and length were squished into three levels of hanging space like tiers of a wedding cake. On the floor were shoes—expensive designer shoes—of every type imaginable.
“Where did you get all of this?” Tatiana asked breathlessly, eyeing Girraween’s bare feet.
“Land.” She chuckled, as if her wardrobe swam up and beached itself at the northern porthole. “Where else, silly?”
Of, course. “Wow. I didn’t think the King allowed his princesses on land.”
“No, the meanie, but royalty does have its privileges.” She winked.
Before Tatiana could enquire further, Girraween was at her side, unbuttoning her skirt. “I can’t believe you’d even wear this. Like, eww.” As she attempted to remove the skirt entirely, Tatiana stayed her hand.
“Oh. I’ll do it.” She buttoned the top button and eyed the door, expecting to see Jacob lurking in the hall. “I… I didn’t have a choice,” she continued. “My clothes are at my house—”
“You’re swimming around the guards uncovered?”
“No, of course not,” Tatiana stammered, “I was wearing this.” She untied the belt and held the swatch up, letting it unfold.
Girraween huffed. “That little thing? Sea slugs, we need to get you some clothes!”
When she ran to her closet, Tatiana darted over to shut the door so Jacob wouldn’t see or hear them. Oblivious to Tatiana’s concerns, she began tossing out garments one after the other. Tatiana dropped the swatch to the floor and kicked it under the bed, before she attempted to catch the onslaught of fabric and beads.
“Cease fire!” Tatiana called out as she hoisted the heavy pile onto the bed.
Girraween laughed and began to help her put on the first garment. As she unsnapped the back of her top, memories of the snooping healer came to Tatiana’s mind and she pulled away.
“Thank you,” Tatiana said as she disappeared around the dressing curtain. “I’ve got it covered.”
Within moments, Tatiana returned and spun around in a green number.
“Oh, that’s cute.” Girraween squealed in glee, as the fabric fluttered around Tatiana’s ankles. She tossed her another garment. “Try this one.”
Tatiana smiled and returned to the curtain. After ten wardrobe changes, a patch of raw skin formed under her arms from the sequins and it became clear Girraween wasn’t finding a proper dress for the audience; she was a bored and tenacious princess wanting to play dress-up.
“This is perfect, really.” Tatiana smoothed her hand over the yellow chiffon fabric.
Girraween frowned. “Are you sure? Because I think this pink one brings out your eyes.”
“No, really. I’m fine.”
“If you insist.” Girraween threw the garment on the mountain of clothes and plopped herself on the bed. Then she slapped her hands down, suggesting Tatiana sit. The floral cotton print reminded her of her comforter at home, sending a pang of longing for her family and Ash through her gut.
The Princess pulled a hairbrush from her side table drawer and began working out the knots in Tatiana’s hair, pulling out a wayward beaded pin from her promising ceremony. “When was the last time you combed your hair?”
“Um…” Tatiana thought. “I guess my promising ceremony.”
“I know you’re underwater all the time, but you really shouldn’t let it get like this,” she said, yanking down on the brush. “So, what’s it like?” she asked.
“What is what like?”
“Being promised, silly.”
Tatiana forced a fake grin. “Um… it’s been okay so far, though, I haven’t had much time with your brother… since the ceremony.”
“Oh, right, that.” She gave a coy smile. “I told you everything would be better once you got promised.”
Tatiana’s breath hitched, remembering back to mermaid school where she’d often complained about Azor. “Yeah, it’s been dreamy,” she said nervously, wanting to change the subject. “Too bad he has so much work to do.”
“Oh, I know.” She pawed through a box of hair ties. “If mermaids ran Natatoria, there’d never be any problems. Women know how to get along so much better. And if the men get outta hand, we ink them—just like that.”
Tatiana chuckled to be polite. If the King was fair, she wouldn’t have an issue with men leading. But equality and the freedom to pursue one’s dreams as a female was highly discouraged in Natatoria. As future queen, she hoped she could change those practices.
Girraween pinned up one side of her hair before attacking an unruly tangle, ripping at Tatiana’s scalp.
“Ouch.” Tatiana winced.
“Oops, sorry.” She giggled. “So, what’s… you know…” her voice lowered to almost a whisper, “mating like?”
Tatiana launched into a coughing fit, choking on her spit. The Princess waited, eyes wide, as if she’d asked about the water temperature outside. “I… I don’t think I want to be talking about this.”
“Why not?”
“It’s… private.”
“Well…” She looked away and brought her hand to her mouth. “This is horrible of me to say, but Pearleza told Linise that you hadn’t—you know—done it yet.”
“Pearleza?”
“My mother’s healer.” She smiled proudly as if the gossip she spread wasn’t about her sister-in-mer who sat directly in front of her. “I overheard them just as you arrived. Linise is my maid.”
Tatiana inhaled deeply; the air felt extremely drying in her lungs. “Of course we’ve done it.”
“I knew it! That’s what I thought. Pearleza doesn’t know a dang thing. She just likes to stir up drama. Do you think you’re pregnant yet? Ooh, that’ll stop everything.” She bit her lip.
Visions of running from the palace and swimming far away racked Tatiana’s mind. Her worst fear had come true. How could she show her face in the palace knowing everyone knew
she and Azor hadn’t done the deed?
“Yeah.” Tatiana felt her eyes glazing over. She needed this to stop—she needed to help Girraween start a new rumor. One that involved someone else.
“So … how’d you do it? Fishy style?” Girraween’s eyes grew. “Or the naughty?”
“Girraween!” Tatiana cleared her throat as her mouth turned into a sand dune.
Ignoring Tatiana, she laughed and pulled out peacock feathers from a big box and rambled about the mating habits of the mers before chaperoning laws. But there was no way Tatiana would share about any type of mating—most definitely not the human way.
“I know mers say they don’t do the naughty, but where else do they do it if not in their bubbled homes, you know? Have you ever wondered that? Of course with the compound, there isn’t an air bubble, but still, I was hoping you’d tell me because it’s all so foreign to me. I mean, where do your legs go? Do you have the same parts?”
“Uh… don’t you think your mother should talk to you about this? I don’t feel comfortable—”
“My mother? Heck no. You’re the only one, Tatiana. Please. All my sisters are chaste, and I’m surrounded by stuffy mer matrons. No one will tell me.”
She held her hands prayerfully and shot doe eyes. Tatiana gulped, staring fearfully back at her. Even if she’d wanted to share, she hadn’t much of a clue herself.
“It’s pretty special,” Tatiana finally said.
She frowned. “Special? Not fun? Fin tingling? Mind blowing?” She lay back in her pillows, clutching one to her chest, and stared dreamily at the ceiling. “Utterly romantic?”
“Eh-uh yeah, those things, too.” She pitched up her lips in a huge smile, hoping she’d satisfied her curiosity.
“Hmmm.” Girraween sounded slightly disappointed. “Well, I’m hoping you are pregnant and have a boy merling so I can finally go to the dating parlor. I’m so tired of being locked away from life.” She sat up quickly and tossed the gold colored throw pillow. “To finally, you know, do it.”
Everlost (Mer Tales, Book 3) Page 7
