Authors: Tera Lynn Childs
Doe’s eyes widen innocently.
Tel in just smiles. “No,” he agrees. “It was not.”
“Then why don’t we take this into the kitchen,” I suggest,
“so we can talk over a plate of Aunt Rachel’s white-chocolate macadamia-nut cookies?”
“Count me out,” Doe says, heading for the stairs in what almost seems like a desperate retreat. “I need another bath.”
She’s gone before I can reply.
Like she can’t wait to get away from me.
Whatever. I’m not the cause of her problems—I’m trying to help solve them.
“Guess it’s just the two of us then,” I say to Tel in with a smile. “More cookies for me.”
I wave him into a chair at the dining table while I arrange a nice stack of cookies on a plate. I pour us each a glass of milk and then take the trayful to the table. I’ve consumed two milk-soaked cookies before I feel ready to talk.
“So,” I begin, “why are you in Seaview?”
He swal ows the last of his third cookie. “What if.”
“What if.” I sigh. This is what I’m afraid of.
“I can’t stop thinking about it, Lily,” he says, sliding from his chair across the table to the one next to me. “Since our conversation in Thalassinia I’m consumed with the idea of our what-if.”
I’ve been thinking about it too. Especial y considering what’s going on with Doe. The thought has crossed my mind that, if the mer world weren’t a secret, precautions might have been in place and Doe’s parents might never have died. Things would be so different right now.
Sadly, the other risks and losses far outweigh that potential gain.
He gets up and starts pacing. I’ve never seen Tel in in terraped form, and I wonder briefly what his legs look like under his pants.
“I’m tired of hiding in the ocean.” He stops behind a chair and grabs the back with both hands. “I want to tel the world
—the whole world—who and what I am.”
“You know that’s not possible,” I argue, even if I wish it were. “It’s not responsible. Think of how many merfolk would be put at risk.”
“That’s melodramatic,” he returns. “There wil be a period of adjustment, to be sure, but I believe that terrapeds and merfolk can coexist peaceful y.”
I shake my head slowly, sadly. “I don’t—”
“I think you believe it too.” He drops back into the chair and lays his hand over mine. “You wouldn’t be living on land if you didn’t.”
“I…” The idea is too big; my mind is swimming. “Even if I did,” I insist, “there’s nothing we could do about it. The heads of al the mer states would have to agree. We can’t force them to take that kind of risk.”
“I know it can’t happen overnight,” he says. “But you are the royal princess of Thalassinia, and I’m the crown prince and acting king of Acropora. With our joined forces, we can initiate the tides of change.”
Could we? I wonder. If Tel in and I were to put the resources of both our kingdoms to the effort of trying to bring the mer world to a consensus about revealing ourselves to the human world, could it happen?
Should it happen?
Even if it
might
be possible, we’l never find out.
“I’l admit it’s a bril iant dream,” I say. “But you’re forgetting one thing.”
He lifts his cinnamon brows, waiting.
“After my birthday next Tuesday, I wil no longer be a royal princess. As an unbonded heir, at midnight I wil sign away my title.”
Tears prickle my eyes at the thought. I’ve been a princess al my life, raised to be the future queen and to accept al the responsibilities my position entails. To behave with decorum and compassion and with the greater good in mind. The idea that, with one scrawl of my name, al that wil be gone… wel , it makes a mergirl sad.
Not that I would change my decision. I would never be a great queen, and Thalassinia deserves a great queen. I belong with Quince—I belong on land. Which makes Tel in’s what-if al the more appealing.
Living on land means living a lie. The possibility of discarding that lie, of admitting my true identity, of helping my kingdom openly from land, is an enticing prospect.
It’s also an unattainable dream.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Lily.”
“Yes,” I say, my throat tight with tears. “It does. I’m renouncing my title and living on land as a practical y human girl. It’s the choice I’ve made.”
“But what if you didn’t have to choose?” He lifts my chin until he can look me straight in the eye. “What if I offered a solution that would al ow you to remain with your beloved
and
fulfil your duty to your kingdom?” Love and duty. If only. My heart beats faster. “What solution?”
His pale blue eyes don’t blink. “Bond with me.”
“What?” I bark with a strangled laugh. “That’s ridic-ulous.”
“Is it?”
Of course it is. I love Quince, and Quince loves me. I’m not about to go bonding with another boy, just because he happens to be a mer prince with some big ideas—even if they are big ideas I happen to agree with.
“I don’t mean a true bonding,” he explains. “A bond in name only. So you could remain Thalassinia’s princess—
her crown princess, and her future queen.”
“That’s… I don’t know,” I say, processing out loud. “I can’t bond with you. You’re like my brother.”
“Think about it, Lily.” He leans closer. “One brief kiss, and everything remains as it should be.”
He makes it sound so easy.
One little kiss.
Could I do it? Could I kiss Tel in to retain my title? It may seem simple, but I have a feeling it’s way more complicated than that. There’s bond magic and hurt feelings and jealousy and a whole ocean of other obstacles that make this a very bad idea.
Besides, what’s in it for Tel in?
“Why?” I ask. “Why would you want to do this? Sacrifice your future happiness with a mermate to bond with me, when you know I could never love you?”
“For the greater good,” he says, his spine straightening.
He looks every inch the prince, the king, even. My young friend is long gone. “You understand the demands of royal duty. The mer world needs progressive leaders who can take us into the future. Who can help our world become far more than we have been in the past.” His eyes soften. “You know I love your father as my own, but he is mired in the old ways. Thalassinia needs you and your experience on land and your commitment to the ocean environment. It is your
duty
to lead them.”
This is al so overwhelming—the idea that I might be able to retain my title, I might stil be able to accept my responsibility as Thalassinia’s queen, al while remaining true to Quince.
B u t
would
I be true to Quince? I’m sure he would understand the need for the single kiss—or at least he’d pretend to understand—but the bond is never that cut-and-dried. As he and I learned a few weeks ago, the bond plays with your emotions and your thoughts, magnifying whatever feelings already exist. Bonding with Tel in wouldn’t be as simple as kiss-and-move-on. We would be connected for life, for a century or more.
I can’t take the risk that this sham bond might eventual y come between me and Quince.
Looking into Tel in’s expectant gaze, I shake my head.
“I’m sorry.” If he had ever been in love, he would understand. “I just… can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“Yes. Both.” I give him a sad smile. “We each deserve better than that kind of empty connection. And Thalassinia deserves better than me.”
The muscles in his neck tense, and he looks so wound up that I want to rest my hand against his cheek to tel him everything wil be okay. But who am I to know whether every-thing wil be okay? I’m just struggling to get through the day-to-day.
“I’m not giving up,” he final y says. “I have until next Tuesday at midnight to convince you of the merits of my proposal. You wil realize that fulfil ing your duty is the right choice, the honorable choice for the future of our kingdoms.
Don’t expect me to disappear.”
“You won’t change my mind.”
“Maybe not,” he says. “But I have to try.” I nod. We’re both being steadfast in what we have to do.
For half a second I wonder which of us is going to succeed in the end.
Then, with a nod, he stands.
“Tel Dosinia I said good night,” he says, and he turns and heads for the door. “I’l see you tomorrow.” It seems wrong to let him just walk away. He was one of my closest friends for many years, and he is in a strange town for the first time.
“Do you have somewhere to stay?” I ask.
He stops in the doorway. “No.”
My heart melts a little. He took a big risk coming here, with no plan except talking to me. And I just shot him down. I can’t send him out, alone, into the Seaview night. Not when there are sheets to spare and a sofa bed in the living room.
“I’m sure Aunt Rachel wil insist you stay with us.” I don’t know if I make the offer because he is my childhood friend or because, maybe, one tiny little part of me wants to give him every opportunity to succeed in convincing me to agree to his plan. Like Doe hoping I can help her get over her hate. It’s hard to toss aside a lifetime of duty. “The couch converts into a very comfortable bed.”
“I would be”—Tel in turns back to face me, a sober expression on his face—“very grateful.”
“Come on,” I say, trying to break the tension, “I’l show you where the linens are.”
As Tel in fol ows me to the hal closet, I can’t stop thinking about his what-if. And wondering whether the two of us, united, could turn it into reality.
“What do you mean, he’s staying with you?” Quince asks through the phone.
I wiggle my tail fin to send smal waves of salty suds up over my torso. “He doesn’t have anywhere else to go,” I explain. “He is one of my oldest friends. I can’t just throw him out into the street.”
Quince mumbles something that sounds like “
I
can.” I haven’t told Quince about Tel in’s proposal. I can just imagine the results. Quince would probably grab Tel in and throw him headfirst out the front door. At this point, it’s better that he not know. It’s not like it’s going to become an issue.
“You’re just mad because he ate al the cookies,” I tease.
“Aunt Rachel and I wil make a double batch tomorrow.”
Knock, knock, knock, knock, kno
—
“What?” I shout at the door. Instead of an answer, I see the door handle turn. “Dosinia!”
Who else would just barge in on my bath? Certainly not Tel in or Aunt Rachel.
Sure enough, her blond head leans in.
“Your aunt said you could show me how to communicate without a message bubble or messenger gul .” I sigh back against the porcelain.
“Just a second, okay?”
Rather than the glib response I’ve come to expect from her, she quietly says, “Okay.”
I hear the door click shut.
“Gotta go?” Quince asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “Doe needs to use the phone.” Neither of us wants to hang up. After a few seconds of listening to each other’s breathing, Quince says, “She’l come around.”
“I hope so.” Closing my eyes, I focus on my transformation, returning to my land legs. “I’m not sure what to do if she doesn’t.”
“She wil ,” he insists.
“How can you know that?”
“Because I have faith in you,” he says, and I can hear the grin in his voice, “And I have faith in love.”
“Me too,” I say, echoing his smile.
“I’l see you in the morning.”
“Yes please.”
We exchange I-love-yous and good-nights before hanging up. I pul the plug from the bath, splash the soap film off my chest, and climb out as the water swirls down the drain.
“Doe,” I cal out as I wrap a towel around my dripping body. “I’m read—”
“Great.” The door pops open, and she steps into the bathroom. “I need to communicate with Brody.” With a sigh at her near-invasion of privacy, I hand her the receiver and explain how to dial the phone. She stares at the buttons, confused. Pushing it back at me, she says,
“You do it.”
I start to take the phone but stop myself. If Doe is going to learn how to appreciate humans, she’s going to have to learn how to
be
human. “No,” I insist. “You dial it or you don’t talk to him.”
She throws me an evil look but careful y pushes the talk button. As I recite Brody’s number from memory—at least three years of crushing left me with something useful—she dials, only messing up and having to start over once. When she’s finished, I indicate that she needs to hold the receiver to her ear.
“It’s buzzing,” she says, sounding concerned.
“Ringing,” I correct. “That means you did it right.” Her attention shifts as the ringing stops. I can hear someone say something on the other end.
Doe asks, “May I speak with Brody, please?” There’s a pause and then, “It’s Dosinia.”
Holding her hand over the mouthpiece, she says to me,
“His mother is fetching him.”
I smile.
Until she adds, “You can leave now.”
My first thought is to strangle her. Her attention is back on the phone; she’d never see it coming. But that would leave Brody heartbroken by an unsevered bond. I couldn’t do that to him.
Besides, I don’t have the energy to do it right.
In the end, I just clench my teeth, take a deep breath, and leave the room. Doe slams the door behind me. Maybe, if I ask real y nicely, Aunt Rachel wil get me my own line. Or, even better, a cel phone. Though I can only imagine the cel phone company laughing when I bring in my soaking phone for replacement.
Maybe I should just stick with the land line.