“I am sorry your original gown was ruined, but I hope you can accept these as a replacement.” Lucius went to the pile and held up the blue version. Instead of white puffs of material, it had stringy yarn-like yellow.
“I…” Olivette tried to swallow her growing concern. He couldn’t be serious, could he? The expression on his face said he was. “I, ah, I can’t…”
“Aye, you can accept it. I promised you I would give you the gowns and—”
“When did you promise that?” she questioned, sure she would have remembered such a conversation.
“When I held you in the shower after the dive.” Lucius held the dress against his body and smoothed it as if readying it for her use. “You may not remember, but I did promise to give you twenty gowns since yours was ruined, and I always keep my word.”
“Oh, dear.” She slowly lowered the green gown and placed it on the couch with the others. “This isn’t necessary. That wasn’t even my dress. It was a work costume.”
“But…” He slowly laid the blue dress on the others. He appeared so forlorn.
“Thank you,” she said belatedly. “These five gowns are too generous. Please don’t make twenty of them. Though, I would like to blend in a little more with the women of Atlantes. Perhaps I could have a gown like Althea in place of the others?”
Lucius smiled. “Aye, my lady. Whatever you wish.” He looked at the gowns, and then expectantly at the white floor-length pajama dress she wore.
Olivette forced a smile as she pulled the dressing gown over her head and laid it on the bed. She then reached for the purple gown and tried to slip into it. The fit was snug, just like the original uniform had been. It hung to mid-thigh.
Lucius looked her over before digging to the bottom of the pile. He handed her a pair of leggings. “They are trying to recreate the fishing net you wore, but hopefully these will suffice until then.”
Thank the gods for small favors, she thought as she pulled the leggings over her bare legs. At least her ass wouldn’t be hanging out as she walked around the palace. Maybe if she were lucky, no one would see her like this.
“Aye, the gods have blessed us,” Lucius said with a nod as if he’d read her thoughts.
“Thank you,” she said, unsure of what else to say.
“You are beautiful.” Lucius cupped her face. “May I kiss you?”
Olivette forgot all about the dress as she looked up at him and nodded. “Yes.”
His lips gently met hers. He took his time as he explored the texture of her mouth. When he pulled away, he said, “Someone approaches.”
She didn’t hear anything.
“Sounds like Aidan’s footsteps,” the king added. He gave her arms a small squeeze before striding toward the front door. It opened before Aidan had a chance to knock. “Are the arrangements being made?”
“Althea told me the rituals that must be performed, but she will not go near the dead. Ladies Laurel, Lyra, and Victoria are willing. Lady Cassandra is with her husband in the borderlands. Lady Bridget said you had her working on something and she did not think she could stop. Will three be enough?”
“It will have to be,” Lucius said.
“Four would be better.” Aidan leaned to look at Olivette where she watched them, almost expectantly. By the easy manner in which he spoke to the king, she assumed him to be a trusted advisor of some sort.
Lucius began to shake his head in denial.
“If I can be of help…” Olivette started to offer.
“Aye,” Aidan answered.
“No,” Lucius said at the same time.
“My lady, thank you,” Aidan finished. “Another set of hands would be appreciated.”
“I don’t think this task is right for,” Lucius hesitated, “for someone so new to the abyss.”
“The other women are new to the abyss,” Aidan said. “Relatively speaking.”
Olivette didn’t know what she was signing up for, but she wanted to prove herself useful—especially if she was going to be spending time with the king. She could see the tension in Lucius’ shoulders. “I’d be happy to be useful.”
“No,” Lucius stated. “Not this. You don’t know what you’re agreeing to.”
“I don’t mind helping if—” she began.
“No,” Lucius repeated.
It had been a very long time since someone had treated her like a child and tried to boss her around. She didn’t like it. “Oh, but it’s fine for the others? Tell me, does this mean I’m better than them, or worse?”
Lucius looked as if he wanted to argue. His bright blue eyes hardened. Finally, he answered through clenched teeth, “As my lady wishes. Go with Aidan to tend the body.”
Olivette began to smile in victory—until his words sank in. Tend the body? This task had something to do with Maia, his ex-lover? She liked pretty things—floral arrangements and well-maintained gardens—not chopped-up dead bodies.
Aidan lifted his hand and motioned that she should follow. She wanted to run in the opposite direction, but it was too late. She had insisted on being useful. Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut?
Somehow, she managed to make her feet move. She gave a sideways glance up at Lucius as she passed him. He wasn’t pleased. She wished for him to grab her arm and demand she not go. He was king and she couldn’t defy the order. He didn’t move. She listened for footsteps, hoping he would come with her, but the decisive thud of his closing door indicated she was on her own.
“Your help is much appreciated,” Aidan said as if he didn’t notice her extreme distress at their current task.
“What exactly am I helping to do?” The words were quiet, maybe too quiet, because he merely glanced at her and didn’t directly answer the question.
“That is a lovely dress,” Aidan said. “I’m glad to see the king find someone.”
“I’m his ward,” Olivette answered. “He bought it for me because my other dress was ruined.”
“I’ve heard that before, yet somehow all wards end up being something more to the men who rescued them. I think it’s a direct blessing from the gods.”
“You’re new here, yet you believe in their gods? Is that what you mean when you said you have converted?”
“I’ve seen too much not to believe. After all, here we are, sunken in the ocean on a lost island of Merr.” He gestured to the halls. “Look around, listen to the people you meet, you will begin to see it too within the stories they tell.”
Olivette didn’t have an answer. She always believed there was more to the world than could be known with modern logic. Though, she had thought those supernatural things would be ghosts or aliens. Ghosts because the energy from a body would presumably transfer at the time of death and had to go somewhere. Aliens because it was a vanity to think they were the only living creatures created in the whole expanse of space. But mermen in the ocean? They had never even blipped in her imagination.
“I don’t know what beliefs you hold,” Aidan said, “but here, the preparation of the body is a sign of respect the gods demand. The shade, or spirit, began its journey to the Underworld with the last breath, leaving the body in a small gasp of air.”
“So I’m playing the part of an undertaker?” She gave a small shiver. Why didn’t she just hide in the bedroom and say nothing?
“This really is about pleasing the gods,” Aidan said. “We have not sent one of our own to the Underworld for a long time. There was another death, Pirene, but the guard worm ate her so there was no body for a funeral. It’s important this is done right, or we will cause insult. We do not wish to fall out of favor, if we are in any kind of favor at all, with Poseidon and his brothers.”
“Naturally,” she mumbled in half sarcasm, half disbelief.
“From what Althea has explained, there are three steps to a burial—the prosthesis, the ekphora, and the interment.” Aidan gestured that she should turn the corner. “First, you clean and prepare the body with oils. Then, afterward you’ll carry it to the
grave at dawn. And, finally, you’ll place it into the ground and cover it. It won’t be much of a procession to the gravesite, as they’re trying to keep the death…” Aidan stopped as if he realized how loud he was talking and lowered his voice to a whisper. “We’re trying to keep the death quiet.”
“Why?” she asked, just as softly. They passed a mural of a red octopus sitting near a shipwreck.
“I…” He looked back toward the king’s home. “I am not sure I can tell you.”
“You want me to tend a dead body and you don’t think you can tell me why?” Olivette arched a brow and looked the man over. He wanted to tell her. She could see the need to speak bubbling inside of him. “I already know it’s Maia.”
“You know?” he asked in surprise. “That’s a relief. Maia wasn’t well liked, but her death means something is happening with the Olympians. There is a power shift.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, Aidan sounded almost excited by this.
“Is that a good thing?”
“It depends.” Aidan again gestured her to turn a corner. “If they revolted because they want to rejoin the Merr under King Lucius’ rule, then yes.”
“But you don’t think that’s what this is?” Olivette paused by the mural of a mermaid under water. She lightly touched the tiles as she passed, shivering at the idea of someday growing her own fish tail.
“I think it’s more likely a power struggle,” Aidan admitted. He touched the mermaid picture briefly. “Everything I’ve heard about Queen Maia and her followers leads me to believe they’re not the type to admit they were wrong and seek forgiveness. That is why you must bury Maia quietly but properly.”
“Sounds straightforward,” Olivette said, still not wanting to participate.
“Oh, hell no!” A woman gagged as she stumbled into the hall and covered her mouth. The golden brown of her hair was pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head. She shook her head violently in denial at no one in particular.
“Lady Laurel?” Aidan questioned, leaving Olivette by the mural to rush to Laurel’s side. “What is it? What happened?”
“I’m not rubbing oil on that,” Laurel declared, gagging a second time. “Have you seen what’s in there?”
A second woman joined the first. She covered her nose and mouth with her hands, nearly hiding her green eyes with her fingertips. Her long dark blonde hair was tied at the nape of her neck and whipped as she came to an abrupt stop. The words were muffled as she said, “It smells like a fish cannery in there. The king has lost his fucking mind. He can’t be serious about this.”
“Lady Lyra, please,” Aidan begged, with a glance at Olivette.
Both women turned to look at her. Their eyes moved over her attire, and she glanced down self-consciously. She still wore the costume.
“This mermaid tried to kill me at least three times.” A third woman joined the group, appearing to have a stronger stomach than the others. “I can’t say I’m sorry she’s no longer a threat.”
“Lady Victoria.” Aidan acknowledged the brunette. “Lyra, Laurel, please, I’d like to introduce you to Olivette. She’s here to help—”
“Fresh meat,” Lyra stated, rubbing her hands together.
“Ignore her,” Laurel waved in dismissal of her friend. “She’s only teasing.”
Lyra’s smile didn’t look threatening.
“Welcome to Atlantes,” Victoria said. “I’m newly arrived myself, but if there’s anything I can do to make your transition easier, please let me know.”
“Thank you,” Olivette said. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Olivette, that’s a pretty name,” Laurel said.
“I’m told it means elf army,” Olivette answered. The women began to chuckle.
“That explains the outfit.” Lyra motioned to Olivette’s clothes.
Aidan looked at Olivette’s clothes. “What’s wrong with the outfit?”
“I’m a purple Mrs. Claus minus a stripper pole,” Olivette mumbled.
The women laughed harder. Lyra moved toward her, only to hook her arm around her shoulders. “I like you, elf.”
“Ladies,” Aidan insisted. “About your duties—”
“Take it easy, Aidan, we got your ancient ritual. We’ll come find you when we’re done,” Victoria said.
Lyra led Olivette back the way the women had come. “Hold your breath, elf, this is going to be a long night.”
Chapter Ten
Long didn’t even begin to describe the night Olivette had. After preparing Maia the best they could, taking shifts when the task became too difficult, they carried the dead queen on a cot through the back door of the palace. Victoria insisted on a shroud. It was for the best as the mermaid was hard to look at.
Torches lit the halls and greeted them as they stepped into the dark outdoors. Olivette took several deep breaths of air, only to gasp as the king stepped out of the darkness to join them. He glanced at the shrouded body before nodding at the woman. He moved ahead of them, leading the small procession. The other women’s husbands also joined them, each carrying a torch—Lyra’s Rigel, Laurel’s Brutus, and Victoria’s Demon.
Yes, the woman’s husband was actually named Demon. And aptly so. He looked like a giant brute of a man with long black hair and black eyes, as did his identical twin, Brutus. Rigel was their younger brother, a lighter version of the twins with dark brown hair and gray eyes.
The king led them from the palace down a dirt path. She willed him to turn around and look at her, but the rigid set of his back said he would not. Perhaps she’d read too much into their time together. She’d been the one to seduce him after all.
Olivette couldn’t help looking up to see the dome of her new world. Stars danced overhead, swimming in gentle patterns. She could detect no dome, but saw the bioluminescent creatures part as dark streaks tore through them. Had she not seen the trip down for herself, she might have questioned it.
“Hey, elf,” Lyra whispered.
Olivette realized she’d stopped walking and her corner of the cot had slipped out of her hands. She hurried to catch up. At the sound, the king did glance back at them. His eyes met hers. She tried to mouth an apology, but he turned away too quickly.
The women had told her that a village was on the front side of the palace, but where they walked looked abandoned. Tree roots reached up from the ground to create strange mossy arches over the land, and the branches stretched like creepy fingers over their heads. It was within the silent forest that King Lucius turned, leading them toward a shadowed clearing. Such scenes were the thing cult movies were made of. Men and women in ancient-inspired garb circling a large stone altar as a dead woman was placed on top.
Then there was Olivette, a stranger who did not belong in her ridiculous elf attire, a misplaced jingle bell of a brightly colored spot during the solemn affair. She stepped back to the edge of light, watching as Lucius kneeled before the altar. He placed small pieces of food on the stone before stepping away. The hunters lifted the cot and lowered it into a hole, not bothering to remove the transport as they buried Maia beneath scoops of dirt.
After the dirt was in place, the men picked up the altar and moved it on top of the mound, hiding the disturbed earth beneath the stone. It was as if Maia had never been. The food was left on the altar. The king stood, staring at it as the hunters led their wives out of the clearing. Olivette wasn’t sure if she should stay or follow. She watched the king, hearing the soft rustle of retreating footsteps. When he didn’t ask her to stay, she made a move to catch up with the others.
“Very few come to this old altar,” the king said, stopping her. “She will never be discovered here.”
Olivette turned around to meet his gaze. She waited for him to say more, unsure how to provide comfort. It was not like in his home when the physical need of her body to heal drew her to him in mesmerizing passion. This moment carried more weight, more logic, more doubt. She wanted to comfort him but had the presence of mind to hold back.
&n
bsp; “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, unsure what else to say. “I can’t imagine this is easy for you, even if you did say you two were not in touch for many years.”
“I was thinking of the beginning when we first came down. Maia had been with me before the ground began to quake, and then she found me in the water. There was so much confusion and fear. I never forgot it. It flooded into me, their screams and panic as we changed for the first time. We didn’t understand what telepathy was and it added to the chaos. For some reason, Maia didn’t scream, not like the others. It was as if she understood the curse and didn’t care. Maybe I remember it wrong after all these years. I saw fear in her, I know that. We were all scared but she accepted it.”
Olivette moved closer to him. She placed a gentle hand on his arm. He continued to stare at her, but his eyes didn’t appear to see her.
“The day she left the palace, she told me I was a fool. She said I had declared us gods on Earth and the gods answered by giving us immortality. What I called a curse, she called a blessing. She told me I wasted that gift in self-loathing and pining for a surface life, and that I did not deserve to be king.”
“Maybe you were both wrong,” Olivette said. “Maybe it’s not a curse or a blessing. Maybe it just is.”
At that, he blinked several times and focused his renewed attention on her, as if coming out of the past.
“I think sometimes people read too much meaning into the world around them, always looking for signs. Sometimes bad things happen. Sometimes good things happen. I’m here because an asshole tried to rape me and then threw me over the side of a boat to hide his drunken mistake. That was bad. I was able to meet Laurel, and Lyra, and Victoria, and I consider that a good thing as they seem like very nice people. Though, how I met them wasn’t exactly a pleasant circumstance.” She glanced at the grave marker. “Maybe Poseidon didn’t curse you. Maybe he simply wanted more sea creatures.”
He followed her gaze to the altar and stared at it.
“But what do I know? I’ve only been here less than a week.” She dropped her hand from him and stepped away. As much as she wanted to hold him, she realized that she was speaking to a king.
The Merman King Page 6
