He knew her from somewhere. Those eyes-
He realized he had closed his own eyes and forced them open. No matter what else had happened, he refused to fall asleep in a council meeting.
Gustave glanced around the room. Most of the council hadn’t noticed his lapse, but his grandmother had.
Blast it all.
“If we have concluded our business, then I suggest we conclude the meeting,” Marquis Corbeau said. “I am still busy finalizing details for the gala.”
“Details that weren’t part of the approved budget,” Marchioness Rouge said. “Perhaps you would like to enlighten us about that?”
“His Majesty is tired and should not be bored with such trivial matters.”
Marchioness Rouge leaned forward, her eyes glittering. Gustave slumped back in his chair. He knew that look. This meeting was about to escalate into a war.
“I have something to say,” Dowager Queen Bernadine said.
Marquis Corbeau looked relieved at the interruption. Marchioness Rouge looked disappointed.
“I believe we have been unfair to Gustave. I would like to remedy that situation.”
Gustave sat up a little straighter as everyone turned their attention to him. Had they realized he was daydreaming about mysterious blue eyes instead of focusing on the meeting?
No, that was impossible.
So what did his grandmother want to say?
“We have asked Gustave to learn the duties of king and run the country while he searches for both his father and for a bride. It is too much. Especially since he has now twice been injured by kraken and is still recovering.”
“No one asked him to search for his father,” Marquis Corbeau said. “That quest has proved deadly and pointless and should be discontinued.”
“But Father moved yesterday, and the light changed directions while we were sailing, as if we had passed him,” Gustave said. “It seems too much of a coincidence that a kraken also happened to be guarding that particular place in the ocean. This is the best lead we’ve had since he disappeared. I think it is possible that the mermaids are holding him underwater.”
“Be that as it may, the search must be postponed until after your gala, Gustave,” Dowager Queen Bernadine said. “You cannot risk yourself again in such a manner. You must focus on hosting your guests and finding a bride. At the very least you should get to know the young ladies who have been invited to the castle.”
Gustave narrowed his eyes, and his thoughts strayed to the woman from the beach. He wouldn’t mind spending more time with her. Maybe he could learn her name somehow or remember where he had seen her before.
A golden fog wrapped around his mind, teasing his memories and reminding him that he was already in love with someone.
“I know who I will marry,” he said. “I just have to find the woman who rescued me.”
The council members shared nervous looks but did not comment.
“Your Majesty, there is no need to obsess over mystery women,” Marquis Corbeau said. “I have arranged for many suitable young ladies to attend the gala.”
“I certainly hope they are more suitable than Lady Annabelle,” Dowager Queen Bernadine said.
Marquis Corbeau glowered.
“Any of the young ladies I have suggested would make excellent brides. But since King Gustave has proved himself unreasonably picky, I have widened the net, so to speak.”
“Aren’t you worried about the expense of housing so many guests?” Gustave said.
He winked at Collette. She giggled, and Marquis Corbeau scowled.
“We are getting off-topic,” Dowager Queen Bernadine said. “As I began to say, we have asked too much of Gustave. We must lighten his load so that he can focus on finding a bride and recovering from his injuries. I propose we relieve him of his administrative duties until after the gala.”
Gustave stared at his grandmother.
“I have put my whole heart into ruling this kingdom. Are you saying it’s not enough?”
“Calm down, Gustave. I am saying that it is too much. You cannot rule with your whole heart while also looking for love.”
“I do not intend to marry until I find Father.”
“And you cannot be a proper king until you do.”
She was giving him a look. The one that made him feel like he was a child again and had done something disappointing.
“Someone must rule,” Marquis Corbeau said. “You cannot expect the council to cover for His Majesty. The extra paperwork alone-”
“I propose that we name Princess Collette co-regent until after the gala. She can review and approve any decrees that need royal approval.”
Collette gasped.
“Oh, I couldn’t, Grandmother. Gustave is doing just fine. I could never take his place.”
She looked at Gustave, her eyes full of apology. He shook his head and smiled at her.
“No one accused you of that, Collette. Do you truly think I’m incompetent, Grandmother?”
He watched Thomas translate and scolded himself for being inconsiderate and not signing the words himself. Having an overwhelming day was no reason to be rude.
If he was honest, he wouldn’t mind a few days off. He just didn’t want to spend them searching for a bride when the options presented were Kara, Elaine, and Lady Annabelle.
And the mysterious woman from the beach.
But none of that mattered, because he was in love with the woman who had rescued him.
Gustave rubbed his temples, trying to fend off his building headache. This was all a bit much.
Maybe his grandmother was right.
Dowager Queen Bernadine watched him in silence for a moment, as if his actions had confirmed her theories.
“You’re more than capable, Gustave, but you are also injured and distracted. Your birthday gala is more than a family party or a chance to find a bride. It is an affair of state. You need to be well-rested to greet diplomats and any royal families that visit.”
“There will be several,” Marquis Corbeau said. “Princesses of-”
“Perhaps I should clarify my proposal,” Bernadine interrupted. “We will empower Collette to handle the administrative matters of Montaigne for a short time. Gustave will continue to handle diplomatic responsibilities. Does anyone have any objections?”
She looked around the room, daring anyone to object.
No one did.
Gustave studied his sister, trying to read the truth behind her guarded expression.
“Do you object, Collette?”
She shook her head.
“I’m happy to help however I can, but how will it look? I don’t want anyone to think that you’re incapable or that I’m trying to overshadow you.”
“If anyone is to be given more power, it should be the council,” Marquis Corbeau said. “I suppose I could take on extra duties if necessary. Or perhaps I could instruct Marchioness Rouge in how to complete the necessary tasks.”
Marchioness Rouge sniffed.
“I hardly need your instructions to run a kingdom, Marquis. Besides, I thought you were too busy with gala preparations to take on extra duties.”
“You truly don’t object, Gustave?” Collette asked.
“It is a temporary measure that will help the gala go more smoothly. I don’t see any harm in it.”
Although, given the way his grandmother’s eyes twinkled, perhaps he should.
Well, too late to turn back now. Maybe if he ended this meeting, he could finally eat something and change into dry clothes.
“I make a motion for Princess Collette to be given administrative authority until after the gala,” Gustave said.
“I second it,” Marchioness Rouge said. “Meet with me later, Princess. I will show you what needs to be done over the next few days.”
She gave Marquis Corbeau a look as she said this, daring him to interfere or offer help.
The marquis was too busy watching Gustave to notice.
“You still have diplo
matic duties to complete this afternoon, Your Majesty. You have received birthday gifts from royal families and need to open them and write thank you notes.”
Gustave swallowed a sigh. His father was somewhere under the ocean, his true love was somewhere on the edge of it, and he was spending his time opening presents.
“Is there any other business before we adjourn?” Dowager Queen Bernadine said.
Everyone shook their heads.
“Then please excuse me while I check on my guests. I invited the young ladies to my parlor for tea and sewing. Will you join us before you begin your training, Collette?”
Collette nodded. Dowager Queen Bernadine gestured for Thomas to push her chair out of the room.
Gustave stood to follow her. A ladies’ sewing circle was not his preferred way to spend an afternoon, but he should check on the woman from the ocean to make sure she had recovered from her ordeal. It was only polite.
Marquis Corbeau ducked in front of him before he could walk through the door.
“Your Majesty, we will need to complete some paperwork to make Princess Collette’s appointment official.”
Gustave sighed. More paperwork. He truly did want to help his country, but why did the tasks involved in ruling have to be so very tedious?
Perhaps once this paperwork was done and Collette was helping with administrative duties, he would have a break from those tasks and be able to convince Captain Whist to sail back to look for his father.
Which would be a more exciting prospect if he had any idea what to do once they were there. If his father was under the sea, Gustave needed mermaids to retrieve him. And except for the mysterious gift of a shell, the mermaids had offered no help at all.
It was all extremely frustrating.
The fog in his head amplified his frustration and agreed that the search was a hopeless matter. He needed to be out on the beach looking for the girl he loved, not sailing the ocean in a pointless quest for his father.
Gustave pushed the thought aside as he stood to follow Marquis Corbeau to his office. When he finished this paperwork, he would have more time to focus on what mattered.
If only he knew what that was.
21
Now that she was dressed, Fiora felt more nervous than ever about being in the castle. The squid ink dye held fast to her hair when she bathed, but would it be enough of a disguise to fool the royal family?
She studied her reflection in the mirror as a servant helped her dress. She certainly looked different without her red hair, but her face was still her own. It was only a matter of time before someone recognized her. She needed to leave before that happened.
Fiora glanced around the room, searching for anything valuable that was small enough to hide in her skirts when she escaped. She felt a twinge of guilt at the idea of stealing from people who had been so kind to her but pushed it aside. They wouldn’t miss whatever she took. If they did, she could repay them once she had found work.
“I’ll need to take your measurements so we can tailor something for you, miss,” the servant said.
Fiora gave up her search and returned to studying her reflection in the mirror. The dark green dress she wore was not a perfect fit, but it was surprisingly close since the servants had been given so little time.
The hems were decorated with an embroidered pattern of silver seashells, and the fabric was far nicer than anything her father had ever provided for her. This was an expensive gown.
Perhaps she didn’t need to steal after all. They had given her the dress. If she sold it, it was valuable enough to provide for her needs until she found work.
Maybe she should stay a little longer. If they tailored more dresses for her, she could keep one and take the extras to sell when she made her escape.
Fiora frowned at her reflection. It was slightly less blatant theft but still dishonest.
Well, she was on her own now. She would have to do whatever was necessary to survive.
The servant finished taking her measurements and stepped away. Fiora twirled in front of the mirror, admiring how the fabric moved through the air. Almost like the way her hair floated through water when she was a mermaid.
Pain shot through her feet, and Fiora stumbled. She grabbed a chair to catch her balance and leaned against it until the pain subsided.
“Are you injured, miss?”
Fiora sat and looked at the bottom of her feet. They were a little scratched from walking on the rocks, but nothing too serious. Nothing that would have caused a burst of pain like that.
That could be a problem. If she was going to run, it would be best to have her feet in good condition.
Her pearl ring had not caused any side effects when it transformed her into a human, so Fiora had not expected any from this enchantment. But it seemed that had been a mistake. First her lost voice, now pain in her feet. What else could go wrong?
She didn’t want to know the answer to that question.
Fiora turned her attention back to the room. There were several silver candlesticks that were small enough to take if she needed to limp away before the dresses were ready.
It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was something.
Fiora walked over to the window and looked at the scenery below. Her room was on the third floor and provided a panoramic view of the gardens and the ocean. She half expected to see a kraken or an army of merfolk coming after her, but the water was calm. Just endless waves with ships sailing over them. No clues about what was happening under the surface.
Whatever it was, that was no longer her concern.
She felt a bad for leaving without saying goodbye to Zoe, but what else could she have done? Her family wanted her locked up.
Or dead, if they supported Leander’s plan.
Fiora wiped a tear away. She wasn’t enough. No matter how hard she tried, she was never good enough. She understood that the merfolk had felt betrayed when she left them to join her father, but what choice did she have? He had promised her a place to belong, and she had no reason not to believe him.
Maybe if her aunts had shared their suspicions about his role in her mother’s death, she would have acted differently.
What had they meant by that?
Fiora ignored the voice in the back of her head that said she probably would not have listened if Kathelin and Althea had told her the story. She had idolized her father when she was young. Been devoted to her entire human family.
Until she’d come to know them better.
Fiora wiped away more tears of frustration. These thoughts were not helpful. The past was the past, and she needed a plan for the future.
She was human again, and this time her humanity didn’t depend on anyone but her.
She had exactly what she had always wanted. Time to move forward.
The servant tactfully ignored the tears and presented a selection of shoes in various sizes. Fiora slipped her feet into a stylish pair of silver heels that matched the embroidery on her gown.
Another burst of pain rushed through her feet when she stood. Fiora collapsed onto the bed and glared at the shoes. Heels had never been comfortable, but they had never been torture either.
This was not how this was supposed to go.
“Should I call the doctor, miss?”
Fiora shook her head. Someone knocked on the door before the servant could ask further questions. Fiora tried to call out and tell them to go away, but her voice made no sound. They kept knocking. She gestured to the servant to open the door.
A well-dressed woman with streaks of gray in her auburn hair stood on the other side. Fiora recognized her from the crowd that had gathered in the hallway when she arrived. She kicked off the shoes and curtsied, wobbling a little as her legs shook.
The woman nodded in response and waved her hand to dismiss the servant, who curtsied to Fiora and hurried out the door.
“Forgive my disturbing you. I am Marchioness Rouge, a member of His Majesty’s royal council. I wanted to check on you and perso
nally welcome you to the castle. Did the servants see to your needs?”
Fiora nodded. She was as well as could be expected under the circumstances. She would be even better if she could find some food, but she wasn’t quite sure how to communicate that.
Marchioness Rouge looked pleased but did not smile.
“You have been invited to take refreshments with the Dowager Queen Bernadine and join her sewing circle for the afternoon. Do you feel well enough to do so?”
Fiora considered this. On one hand, spending more time with the royal family was risky.
On the other hand, food would be most welcome.
As would sewing. Embroidery always cleared her head.
“It is a great honor,” Marchioness Rouge said. “And it would be polite to accept the invitation as you are the personal guest of the dowager queen.”
Fiora nodded. It would look suspicious if she refused their hospitality, and without her voice, she didn’t have the means to make up a convincing excuse.
“I see you are nearly ready,” the marchioness said. “Once you put your shoes on, I will personally escort you to the sewing room.”
She stated this as if it also were a great honor. It probably was. A servant should be responsible for such a task. Not a marchioness.
If the marchioness knew that Fiora was a princess, she might feel differently about who was bestowing an honor.
Fiora scowled. She was trying to stay unnoticed and undiscovered. The last thing she needed was for anyone to realize she was important.
She selected the most sensible shoes available in her size, a pair of blue slippers that didn’t match the dress, and nodded to the woman.
The marchioness eyed Fiora up and down, doubtless debating if she should comment that the slippers were hardly appropriate for paying a call to the dowager queen.
She must have decided against it, because she led Fiora down the hall without saying a word.
Fiora followed, doing her best not to show discomfort. Her feet burned. She looked down several times, sure that they must be bleeding through the thin shoes.
But whatever was causing the pain must be internal and related to the enchantment. The scratches on her feet weren’t deep enough to cause it, and there was no other sign of injury.
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