“A mermaid,” Patricio confirmed. “Yes. She was cursed by a sea witch into human form. I’m trying to help her break her curse so she can return to the sea.”
As the last words left his lips, something twisted in his gut. The thought of returning Marcela to the sea suddenly seemed…unpleasant. He met Marcela’s eyes, and for a moment he would have sworn he saw a tightness around her eyes. She turned slightly to look at him. He held her gaze, searching, asking her without words if she still wanted to leave. Don’t be a fool, he scolded himself. Of course she still wants to leave.
“Well, Patricio, why didn’t you say so?”
Emiliana abruptly stepped between Patricio and Marcela, breaking their eye contact and silencing whatever silent communication might have been possible. Before Patricio could say another word, or even gather his thoughts, Emiliana reached out and grasped Marcela’s hand in hers.
“My dear, I want you to stop worrying, this instant,” she said firmly, her voice once more sweet and lilting. “I know someone who might be able to help you break this wretched curse, and I’ll take you straight to him as soon as I’ve sent my servant ahead to make certain he’s available.”
She gestured back toward her carriage and a woman hurried out of nowhere. She was dressed in a gown less fine than Emiliana’s but with more expense than the other people Marcela could see in the village from this vantage point. Her dress was a coppery red, trimmed with gold thread. It reached up to her neck, offering much more modesty than Emiliana’s own low-cut gown, and the bodice did not seem laced as tight. Emiliana had a few words with her and the woman nodded and scurried off.
Emiliana was sparkling once again when she turned back to Marcela and Patricio. “Now, we’ll just wait here for a bit until my lady in waiting returns.”
Marcela blinked at Emiliana. “I… Thank you.”
She glanced at him and again their gazes locked. His heart pounded. Just like that, he’d gone from the prospect of a budding relationship with Marcela to waiting to say goodbye. He hadn’t even realized he wanted her to stay. Now, however, he was certain of it.
“Marcela,” he began softly.
A small troupe of musicians started to play nearby, the sweet sounds of their instruments filling the air with a rich tune.
“Patricio, darling, won’t you dance with me while we’re waiting?”
Emiliana’s voice tore Patricio’s attention away from Marcela. He glanced toward the sound of the music, a little trio of street performers. A few people had started to dance in the round open area, smiling at one another as they took a break from their work to enjoy the music. Patricio stifled a groan. He hated dancing. Bad enough he towered over everyone else, but his wings were certainly not conducive to whirling around in small spaces where people were trying to get around. He glanced at Emiliana, trying to gauge how critical his dancing was to the political relationship between their families. Her glaze flickered from Marcela to him with a not-so-subtle warning. Very important then.
He shoved down his irritation and took her hand. “Of course.”
Together they walked a ways away from Marcela. Emiliana sidled as close to Patricio as his thick robes would let her, bending the rules of polite society until Patricio could practically hear them groaning with the strain. After holding Marcela’s soft curves in his arms, the angles and thin slopes of Emiliana’s body felt like cavorting about with a scarecrow from a farmer’s field. It was only a very primal instinct screaming at him that looking at a woman other than the one in his arms could get him killed that forced his focus to stay on Emiliana and not seek out the former mermaid who held sway over his thoughts.
Emiliana thrust her hip to the side, sending them into the dance. Patricio bit the inside of his cheek, trying to tuck his wings as close to his body as he could manage while simultaneously trying to remember how the blasted series of steps, twists, and bows went. It was a back breaking jarring of bones compared to the smooth, seamless movements of flying…or swimming.
A few minutes later, Patricio became aware of Marcela’s voice.
“Oh, no, thank you. I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer.”
He whipped around to face Marcela, ignoring the glare from Emiliana as he whirled her body a little too suddenly to the side. A modestly dressed man was holding Marcela’s hand, laying a kiss across her knuckles. Patricio gritted his teeth.
Marcela met his eyes. Emiliana put a hand on his cheek and drew his attention back to her. Her brown eyes were narrowed into splinters, her smile as fragile as a glass carriage.
Concentrate on Emiliana, you fool. You—
“Oh!”
Patricio whirled Emiliana around again in time to see the man lead Marcela out into the impromptu dancing area. He had a strange urge to throttle someone as the man put his hands on the smooth swells of Marcela’s ample hips, his fingers nestling into the smooth fabric of her dress. Marcela’s mouth was still open in a surprised “O” as he started to twirl her about, launching them both across the circle as the musical trio broke into a new, faster song.
If Patricio had expected Marcela to be clumsy, he’d been very sorely mistaken. Marcela herself looked surprised as her body swayed in perfect beat to the music. After a while, the man she was with let her out of his embrace, calling out encouragement and clapping his hands as Marcela whirled around on her own. Soon the other dancers abandoned the dance area as well. Patricio couldn’t help but stare as he came to a stop despite Emiliana’s tugging on him to keep moving.
Marcela spun as if her feet were not even touching the ground. The music seemed to be a part of her, and she leapt and twirled with a grace even the fey would envy. She was a feather on the wind, tossed about with every note, but never rushed or hurried, always moving as if each dip and turn was all part of a beautiful, intricate spell. Her red hair caught the sun and threw it back in a wave of fire, her eyes sparkled like the sea at the peak of spring, crushed emeralds and sapphires dusted together, and her ruby red lips parted in a grin that erased the tension from her face and made her appear…free.
When the music finally stopped, Marcela came to a graceful halt, her chest rising and falling rapidly, the swell of her breasts flushed with exertion. A smile lit up her entire face and Patricio couldn’t help but return it.
“That was amazing.” His voice was a little gruff, and he cleared his throat self-consciously.
“Thank you,” she said breathlessly. “I don’t know what happened, I… Oh, Patricio, it was like swimming.” Her eyes shone with tears and Patricio pushed away from Emiliana and stepped closer, taking Marcela in his arms.
“Ah! There’s my lady in waiting now! Marcela, dear, come along, we must be off. We wouldn’t want to keep the wizard waiting.”
Patricio gritted his teeth as Emiliana practically ripped Marcela from his arms, her pale, dainty hand closing like talons around Marcela’s soft flesh. “I’ll go with you.” He stepped forward to remain by Marcela’s side.
Emiliana tugged at Marcela again and Marcela winced, her good humor dimming dramatically as Emiliana nearly wrenched her arm from its socket. Patricio bristled at Emiliana’s rough treatment, annoyed that the noblewoman was being so rude. As he opened his mouth to ask Marcela if she was all right, Emiliana put herself between him and the former mermaid. The frost on her face stopped him in his tracks as he stood staring down at her.
“Patricio, you really needn’t come with us. We will only be taking a short carriage ride. I know how much you detest carriages.”
“It’s all right, I can fly along behind.” Patricio tried to keep his eyes on Emiliana to avoid irritating her further. “I—”
“Patricio.” Emiliana’s voice dropped its sweetness and slithered forward like a serpent ready to strike. “As you know, our families were very close to an accord with the former prince of Meropis before you…gained the throne. I’m so pleased that relations between our families did not suffer after my previous fiancé’s death, and I do wish for them to continue to b
e so pleasant.” Her eyes hardened. “But I have already been very gracious about not insisting on any formalities between us, as you so kindly reminded me. I trust we have an understanding that soon our…friendship will progress to a more formal arrangement. As such, it simply will not do for you to be seen running about the kingdom with this…unmarried woman.”
“There is nothing—” Patricio started.
“I will not be embarrassed in this way, Patricio,” Emiliana said quietly, her voice thunderous in its calm. “I am being quite kind right now. Your…friend, is in need of help, help that my wizard can provide. We have an opportunity here to make sure everyone gets what they want. Now…please return to the palace. I will bring you good news soon, you have my word.”
Without waiting for a response, Emiliana whirled around and half-dragged Marcela to her waiting carriage. Patricio watched her go, dumbfounded at the change in Emiliana. Marcela glanced back at him as she allowed Emiliana to pull her, but as their eyes made contact, she tripped. By the time she recovered her balance they were at the carriage. Patricio clenched his hands into fists at his sides. It took more effort than he wanted to admit not to call her back.
Chapter Eleven
“Your feet are bleeding.”
Marcela jolted forward, wincing as the pain in her feet that she’d been studiously trying to ignore throbbed in yet another wave of agony. Emiliana’s voice was absorbed by the thick velvet lining the interior of the carriage, making her tone all the heavier for lack of an echo. As the noblewoman’s words registered, Marcela slowly raised one foot. Her eyes widened in horror at the sight of the blood trickling over the straps of her shoes.
“Don’t worry about the carriage, my dear,” Emiliana said, her voice lacking any of its earlier sweetness despite the reassuring words. “It must have been excruciatingly painful, dancing on two legs after a lifetime swimming about in the sea. The flesh is too new, you see. Your delicate little feet aren’t used to the confines of shoes, or the impact with the ground—much harder than water.”
Marcela kept her eyes on her injured feet, but inside her nerves leapt as though they’d been struck by lightning. The hair on the back of her neck was standing up, and for some reason, the carriage seemed to grow smaller with every breath. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about Emiliana was…wrong.
She should have stayed with Patricio, followed her original plan. Nothing good ever came from making rash decisions, she knew that. What had possessed her to follow this strange woman into her carriage on the promise of help from some wizard she’d never met? What had possessed her to leave Patricio’s side, when he was so obviously dedicated to making sure she was all right? Her heart twisted at the memory of Patricio’s face as she’d left with Emiliana. It was a silly thought, but Marcela couldn’t help but think Patricio hadn’t wanted her to leave. You can see him again, you twit, she chastised herself. You live in the sea right outside the palace for goodness sakes.
Of course there was a certain …intimacy to being with him on land. Away from the prying eyes of her people. She—
“Patricio is a handsome man, is he not?”
Emiliana’s voice ripped Marcela out of her thoughts and she blushed as though Emiliana was somehow reading her mind.
“I suppose so,” she mumbled. “If you like the two-legged sort.” She added the last part in the hopes of assuaging Emiliana’s obvious concerns about her future with Patricio, but the thin smile that stretched the noblewoman’s lips suggested Emiliana was not buying it.
“Let’s not be coy.” Emiliana’s voice was cold and strained. “Your people have a long history of finding the ‘two-legged sort’ very attractive.”
Marcela stiffened. “I am aware of my people’s somewhat shadowy history,” she said tightly. “However, we have spent the last century making up for the errors of our ancestors. My people are responsible for saving hundreds of live—”
“Yes, of course, I know that your people are very eager to leave the cannibalistic ways of your past behind you,” Emiliana cut her off.
It wasn’t cannibalism, we weren’t eating our own kind, you dimwit, Marcela thought darkly. We were eating yours.
“However, I’m afraid you’ve missed my point,” Emiliana continued. “The fact is, I see how you look at Patricio. Your interest is clear. What I would like to know is, do you intend to…act on your interest? Or was Patricio correct in his assessment of your goal to return to the sea—alone?”
In that moment, Marcela would have given anything to have her voice back. Without her songs, she would be completely helpless if Emiliana decided she was too much of a threat. For all Marcela knew, the woman had a dagger in her skirts and planned to add the rest of Marcela’s blood to the pool already growing from the wounds on her feet.
“I have no interest in pursuing a romance with someone else’s fiancé.” She met Emiliana’s eyes. The noblewoman pressed her lips into a thin line, and despite her better sense, Marcela couldn’t resist pushing against that arrogant façade. “Then again, I suppose he isn’t actually your fiancé yet. Not officially anyway.” She tilted her head. “Is he?”
Emiliana’s eyes narrowed briefly before she smiled, a practiced twist of her lips. “Well said. But don’t worry, Marcela. I know that returning to the sea is much more important to you than staying on land to see if you can force Patricio to abandon his political commitments.”
Marcela blinked. “I—”
“After all, as a princess, second heir to the throne, I’m sure you understand how quickly things can sour in a kingdom if obligations are not met. I’m sure you’ve seen how the people can suffer, how lives can be lost and valuable alliances dissolved when a king’s word is broken. Whatever Patricio may think, my family and the king had an understanding before Patricio killed his predecessor. I have tried to be easy with Patricio, but in the end, he will honor his political obligations. And if you interfere with that, then you have no right standing anywhere in line for any throne.”
Marcela’s stomach roiled and she wasn’t sure if it was from the bloodloss or Emiliana’s icy accusations. One thing she was certain of, Patricio deserved better.
So stay, a voice whispered in her head. Turn down the wench’s offer of magic and return to Patricio.
Her heart pounded. She couldn’t. It wasn’t her plan, it wasn’t what she’d decided to do. Besides, she and Patricio would never work, he was far too arrogant.
But he asked for your help to become better.
She scowled. No matter, he was far too bloodthirsty.
He’s lost in his “duty,” he needs someone to help him find balance.
Her head spun and she raised a hand to her temple, trying to ease the throbbing there. Obviously her brains had fallen out sometime during her little swimming flight with Patricio, because ever since then, her intellectual faculties had been worthless.
Before Marcela could center herself properly, Emiliana turned her attention out the carriage window. “Ah, we’re here.”
Marcela looked out the window and gaped up at the sprawling manor as they pulled up around the circular drive to the broad pathway. A giant stone fountain took up so much of the front yard, Marcela could scarcely make out the front doors. Stone angels poured water from glistening golden vases and exquisitely carved unicorns curled around the base as if coming for a drink.
A valet assisted Emiliana out of the carriage and then offered his arm to Marcela. She abandoned her examination of the manor as she accepted his help, trying to hide her embarrassment as she hoped he didn’t look down and notice her mangled feet. A familiar smell enveloped her as she stepped out of the carriage and she halted as the sweet scent of saltwater tickled her senses. Without meaning to, she stepped toward the scent.
“You can smell home, can’t you?” Emiliana noticed her reaction with a satisfied smile. “We are not that far from the palace, actually, down the mountain a ways and back. There’s a flat shelf of rock beyond the forest behind the house. As
soon as my wizard has taken care of your curse, you are welcome to return directly to the sea. There’s a convenient path down the cliff to the water and I’d be only too happy to show you.”
Marcela didn’t even react to Emiliana’s obvious glee at the promise of getting rid of her. It didn’t matter, not really. The scent of the sea turned sour as Patricio’s face flashed into her mind’s eye. As much as she missed her home, she was starting to worry if maybe she wasn’t going to miss Patricio more.
Emiliana set off at a brisk pace and Marcela followed, wincing with every step as more warm blood flowed over her feet. For as concerned as she’d pretended to be in the carriage, Emiliana now appeared blissfully unaware of Marcela’s pain as she kept a quick pace up to the massive front doors. Marcela cursed herself for not taking the damned shoes off in the carriage. She started to call out to Emiliana to wait so she could sit and remove the shoes now, but she was distracted when instead of going up the front steps to the main house, Emiliana veered to the right along a small paved path. It looked like it curved around the side of the house, back toward the forest.
Divine Scales Page 14
