The Mermaid Bride (Fairy Tale Heat Book 6)

by Lidiya Foxglove

  My face felt tight with tears. Luckily it was easy to hide tears underwater. All I had ever wanted to do was make my little sisters happy.

  Okay, maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe I was selfish. Maybe they would have been happier if we settled down in one village, made more friends, found contentment. But certainly, I might be a thief, but I had never been cruel.

  “I don’t think you answered my question,” I said. “Why would you heal people when you’d rather be cruel?”

  “Because, it gives me value. It lets me call in favors. It means no one will stand up to me when I get rid of you, because I mean more to them than you do.”

  That stung. Badly. Because deep down, I knew no one really loved me except my sisters, and I had no one to blame but myself. I was always chasing something I could never find, instead of being content with what was around.

  Wrindel was the first person I had chased who had also stuck with me. Week after week, he kept coming to talk to me. At first, it was a light flirtation. Pretty soon, I was telling him everything: about how it was raising my sisters when I was only five years older, how I felt like their mother and yet so undeserving of replacing our real mother, about my travels, my wildest and silliest dreams.

  “Wrindel won’t want to trap me on land,” I said.

  “He will think he’s doing you a favor,” Rusa said. “You see, this spell will take away all your memories of your mermaid life. You won’t know where to turn. You won’t know where you belong. Prince Wrindel is actually the one who will steal the stone and your memories with it, but he won’t know. He thinks you have amnesia. He will offer you a home. By the time he realizes what he has done, he will have a hard time letting you go.” She paused. “In some ways, despite it all, I envy you.”

  “Why?”

  “You will see many beautiful things, I have no doubt, before he gets bored of you… It might almost be worth it. Yes…my dear…it might be worth it.”

  Rusa was a very strange woman. I couldn’t tell, in that moment, if she wanted to punish me…or live through me.

  I was still shaking. Could she really do this? Could she take my memories away?

  “You’ve seen it?” I asked, around my rising dread. I felt like that pebble was still stuck somewhere in my chest.

  “I’ve seen it, but you will go farther than I did. I never had legs.”

  “You’ve been to the land?”

  She looked at me with a heavy gaze, her eyes still large and clear. “You won’t remember any of this,” she said. “Yes, child. Once, I went to the land…”

  Chapter Three

  Wrindel

  My favorite courtesan was taking my cock out of my trousers, and yet, quite possibly this was the worst afternoon of my life. She wasn’t cheap, the royal coffers were low anyway, and I didn’t even really want to be here.

  What the hell are you doing?

  Distracting yourself?

  Then I thought wryly, Story of your life.

  “Mmm…prince…I’ve missed you.” Deera looked up at me through a fringe of dark eyelashes. I looked at her and realized, that for all the times I’d seen this girl, I didn’t actually know her at all.

  “I shouldn’t have done this,” I said flatly.

  “Nonsense.” She slid her tongue up and down my shaft. I was getting hard, but more due to her skill than my own engagement. I leaned a hand against the wall. Come on. You already paid, and…

  Imagine Talwyn doing this…

  Her face sprung to mind immediately. Easy grin, tanned skin, dark blonde hair with surface strands kissed by the sun to a lighter shade, comfortable in her naked skin, with a rather direct way of speaking. I noticed something new about her every time we met. Last time, even though I’d been in the middle of trying to organize the merfolk to halt a ship before it got far from land, I noticed that she chewed her nails. They were all uneven and ragged and for some reason I found it charming.

  She lived in a very different world from me, but you’d never know it, to talk to her. She didn’t seem like some mythical siren, like the stories. She could have been a shepherdess or a girl selling peanuts on the corner, just far more interesting.

  But—had she really injured herself that day?

  I thought the witch was lying, but I also hadn’t seen Talwyn since, and I was starting to go a little crazy. I needed someone like her, someone I could talk to who stood apart from all the worries swirling around the palace.

  “Stop,” I said.

  “Stop?” Deera pulled back incredulously. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t do this.”

  “Aw.” She stood up and ran a hand through my hair. “Sweet Wrindel. You’re worried about your father, aren’t you?”

  “Of course. I’m not heartless.” It was easier to blame my sudden lack of interest on that. A few weeks ago, it looked like our kingdom might have happiness again, when my older brother Ithrin announced his engagement to an adorable half-goblin girl. But then my father had his ‘spell’. He seemed confused as dinner began, and then he collapsed. The healers rushed to him, and pulled him through whatever it was for the moment, but he seemed out of it ever since. He kept getting dizzy and forgot things. Every day he grew weaker. He wasn’t even getting out of bed now.

  My father was young for a high elf, to face death. But ever since my mother and older siblings died when I was a baby, he didn’t care much for his health. I guess it might have caught up to him.

  My father seemed invincible, until this week.

  “He’s recovering nicely,” I said, remembering to take the official stance. The people of Wyndyr knew he wasn’t feeling well, but no one knew how bad it was.

  “There’s no shame in pleasure,” Deera said. “You need to take care of yourself.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t suppose I could…put it on hold for later?”

  “Sure you can. You’re my favorite customer.” She sauntered to the side table and poured me a drink. “But are you going to be able to button your trousers? Your head might not be in it, but tell it to that stiff rod.” She came over, sliding a hand up my shaft.

  I cleared my throat. “Deera. I told you to stop.”

  She paused with surprise and maybe even a bit of pique. Then she handed me the drink with a shrug.

  I took a swig of sweet wine. “A cold walk on the shore will straighten out my head. That’s what I need right now. I’m sorry, Deera, you know it’s not you. You’re the loveliest woman in Harborside.”

  “Once you told me I was the loveliest woman in Wyndyr. Now I’ve been downgraded to the neighborhood! Is it because Ithrin finally got married? How many hearts will break if you decide to grow up, Wrin? It’d be a national emergency.”

  “Yes,” I said soberly. “But I suppose it would have to happen sometime.”

  As I left the tavern, I had this weird feeling I would never cross its door again.

  I can’t believe I’ve gotten wrapped up in one woman, I thought, taking the steep steps down to the rocky shore. It was getting closer to sunset, and our city faced to the west, so I thought I’d stroll long enough to watch. A mermaid, at that.

  This was her world: the dark mystery of the water. It was not a place for me, and my world was no place for her either. If she was an ordinary girl, I told myself, I would’ve forgotten her already. I was obsessed because I couldn’t have her, that was all.

  But what if I’d always known? The sea was the place I turned to when I felt especially lost, even when I was a boy, long before I could turn to women. I used to spend hours picking my way along the rocks, looking for treasures, letting the waves ebb and flow around my bare feet, gazing at the unknown. This was the place I found peace, and it made some sense that a girl from the sea would be the girl I couldn’t forget.

  Wyndyr had always lived and died by the sea. Like all the kingdoms of the Isles, we were a hub of trade and fishing. Every person in the city knew the signs of an approaching storm. Today, it was calm. I stood there for a little w
hile, hands in my pockets, cold wind whipping my hair into my eyes. The waves tumbled onto the beach in a rhythm. Farther out, fishing boats were steady as they sailed back to the harbor before sunset.

  Despite the cold, I took off my shoes, like I always did as late into the fall as I could stand, hooking my fingers around the laces of my boots. I started walking again, passing children who were looking for mollusks. They waved at me, most of them too young to recognize their prince.

  I stopped short when I saw something in the distance, on the rocks where I had recently encountered the witch.

  Was that a body sprawled on the boulder?

  I started running, rocks jabbing the soles of my feet.

  Yes. It was a mermaid. She wasn’t moving.

  “Talwyn?” I caught my breath as I reached her, after a long sprint. “Tal!” She was slumped on the rock, unconscious, but breathing. Thank the stars for that. Her hair was almost dry, like she’d been there a while. The skin of her tail was almost dry too. I wondered if she was all right like that, or if her tail needed to stay wet. It was smooth silver-gray, like a dolphin, but more luminous. Seeing her like that made me think of a fallen star.

  “Talwyn?” I put a hand on her shoulder. Her skin was cold. I had never touched her before. Come to think of it, of all the lovely young women I’d spent time with, I don’t think I had ever gone so long just talking, not touching.

  Which meant I’d talked to Talwyn more than most women. It was strange to see her not talking. You know how some people just seem invincible? Talwyn was one of those people. It disturbed me to see her knocked out, like some law of the universe had been broken. I suppose I should be used to that by now, after what happened to Father.

  Around her neck hung a chain with a blue-green stone wrapped up with a gold wire. I had never seen her wear it before, and found it rather conspicuous. I reached for the stone—and heard a whistle.

  The witch-mermaid from before surfaced in the water just below the rock.

  I stood up and drew the slender blade I carried. “What did you do to her?”

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” the witch shouted to me, her voice melodious and younger than her face. She wasn’t that far away, but the waves striking the rocks made for a lot of noise. “It’s your decision, but just so you know, if you take off the necklace, her tail will split into legs. You have to hide the stone from her and never say a single word about it. If she so much as lays an eye on it, if you even tell her you have hidden it from her, she will immediately become a mermaid again. And this time, it will be forever. Maybe your healers might be able to help her amnesia in a more natural way. Who knows?”

  I knew the witch expected something out of me. Maybe she had even cast an enchantment that would force me into loving Talwyn, the way my brother had initially been enchanted by his bride. I had encouraged Ithrin to give in to a love spell, but then, my brother was stiff around women. I didn’t need such encouragement.

  But whatever game the witch is playing, can’t I outwit her?

  I shouldn’t make that assumption. But I also couldn’t imagine leaving Talwyn behind, vulnerable to a woman with dubious motives.

  Witches tended to cast their spells toward a man’s weakness. And I certainly knew my weakness. My reputation probably preceded me. Even mermaids knew I couldn’t resist a pretty face. She thought I wouldn’t be able to handle a pretty face without legs, and the treasure between them.

  I’ll bloody well show her.

  “I don’t think I need to turn her into a land dweller to try and solve her amnesia,” I said, taking Talwyn into my arms.

  “That is true…,” the witch said. “You are a kind man, after all.” She bowed her head, seeming to indicate that she wouldn’t stop me.

  I carried Talwyn up a rugged path cut between stubby bushes heading back up from the shore to town. Talwyn was surprisingly heavy. Her body was long and felt more muscular than the idle society girls I was used to, and her tail kept bumping against the shrubs. She remained unconscious, one arm dangling down.

  I stopped at the top of the path and took off my jacket, wrapping it around her naked breasts to shield her before I moved on.

  Soon, I had reached a wooden promenade that fronted the beach, with painted clapboard cottages lining a well-kept lane. The men were still out fishing and the older children were mostly at school. I smelled bread baking. A lithe young elf-wife carrying a pail paused to stare.

  “A mermaid,” she breathed. Then, louder, “Is she hurt?”

  “I don’t truly know,” I said.

  “She’ll only get sicker outside the water,” the girl said, putting down the pail and walking over, wiping her hands on an apron. Then she stopped short and bowed. “Your highness! I didn’t recognize you from a distance. You’re taking her to the palace, then?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But what do you know about mermaids? Her tail is somewhat dried out. Is that all right?”

  “Can I touch her?” the girl asked, hesitating before getting too close to me, her pale cheeks blushing. No doubt, she knew my reputation too. I flustered all the peasant girls. In the past, I would have gladly flirted with the young woman. Right now, my reputation was getting in my way. I didn’t give a damn about anything except Talwyn.

  The girl ran a hand along Talwyn’s tail. “Your highness,” she said. “Far be it from me to advise you, but she is quite dried out. She could catch sick. The merfolk really don’t fare well outside the sea. Even the palace isn’t a good place for her. The pools are shallow and the water is fresh. They can adapt to fresh water, but they don’t thrive.”

  I hated to believe her, but the people who lived on the water knew more about merfolk than anyone else. “I can’t put her back in the sea. She’s a friend of mine, and she’s hurt.”

  The girl glanced at me apologetically. “Her own people can help her better than we can. But—I could ask Dame Biriel, if you’d like to be sure. She’s older than me, so—”

  “I believe you,” I said. “No need. I’ve had enough of old women today. Truth be told, I think there’s a sea witch who has it out for her. The witch told me if I took off her necklace, her tail would turn to legs, and as long as I hid it from her, she could stay here forever. I could try it, and give it back to her once she’s feeling better, if it’s true. Have you ever heard of that sort of magic?”

  “Oh yes,” the girl said. “Of course. Some merfolk carry a talisman that lets them turn to human form. Some of them can’t resist the land, you know, and the men dream of finding them. If a man steals it off her, she has to be his bride. That’s the story I hear, mind you.”

  So much for my willpower. I’ll only keep the stone until she’s feeling better, I told myself. “Would you help me?” I asked. “I have to give it a try. If she’s going to change forms, I’d need to borrow a dress from you for her to wear. I’ll compensate you many times over.”

  “Oh, of course! Your highness, it would be my honor. But—” She flushed again. “I must get Dame Biriel. If my husband came home, she would—help me explain.”

  I knew what she meant. She didn’t want her husband to find me alone with his wife. Of all the stupid things. “Hurry.”

  “She lives right next door to me!” The girl dashed toward one of the houses.

  In another moment we had: Talwyn in bed in front of a crackling fire, me, the pretty young elf-maiden, a very vigorous older woman with a baguette tucked under her shoulder, and two small children arguing over a wooden horse. That was just how everything was in the hamlets lining the shore. Everything had an audience.

  Dame Biriel had already taken the liberty of wrapping Talwyn’s tail in a wet sheet, deftly handling this entire operation without dislodging the baguette, which I considered might taste of armpits by the time it was eaten. It certainly did make you think about food purchased on the street.

  Talwyn still slept. No doubt, magic guided her slumber. No normal circumstance would allow a person to sleep through this ruckus. At this point, I
was getting agitated. I just wanted to see her eyes open. I unfastened the necklace’s clasp. Immediately, a spasm ran through her body, almost knocking off the wet sheet.

  “Put it away,” Dame Biriel told me, patting the necklace. “Quickly now. I knows the legend of the shore-stones. If you want her as a bride, you can’t show it to ‘er.”

  “He doesn’t want her as a bride,” the younger woman said. “He just wants to help her.”

  “Nonetheless, young man, put it away. She can’t be seeing it now.”

  “Dame Biriel, this is the prince,” the elf-maid said.

  “I know he’s the prince!”

  “Oh, please do be polite, that’s all.”

  I shoved the necklace in my pocket, barely paying attention to them. I was riveted by what was happening. Small moans escaped Talwyn’s lips, and as she thrashed, her tail split into legs. Her fins shrank so quickly and naturally beneath the sheet, it was like watching a bellows deflate. The young woman finally nudged the children out of the room as Talwyn cried out like she was in pain. I clutched her hand. And then she kicked off the sheet.

  Damn.

  I already knew mermaids had the best breasts in the world, and Talwyn especially—full, round, and high, like they helped her float. Granted the miracle of legs, she had the most breathtaking form I had ever seen. A girl of the land, but—not quite. I had never seen a girl who looked so sleek, lean muscle and gorgeously formed ample curves, with the smoothest, softest skin you could imagine and not a hair on her anywhere besides her head. Her sweet little sex was plain to see and begging to be tasted.

  I already knew I wasn’t going to give her back up to the ocean easily. Maybe the witch had me. I didn’t even care. It hit me hard. I already love this girl.

  “Talwyn?” I said.

  Her hand suddenly gripped mine back as her eyes flew open. She looked at me, at the two women, and at her body, and screamed loud enough to call the fishing boats into the harbor.

  Chapter Four

  Talwyn