Page 96 of The Noble's Merman

Kent also asked him if he knew if it was possible to regain his tail, now that he was in human form. He said he could. Mo wasn’t sure how exactly, but he knew it was possible because of what Wenta said her grandmother was able to do. But he reassured Kent that either way, even if he didn’t figure out how to become mer again, he had no qualms living the rest of his life as a human, as long as it meant a life by Kent’s side.

They walked further along, and Kent spotted the same field of sheep he saw earlier. He pointed them out to Mo, who cheered in delight so sweetly, witnessing the animals for the first time.

“I swear, I’ve never seen a creature so adorable!” said Mo, leaning against the short fence that kept the sheep within.

“Even more adorable than me?” Kent hugged him closer, still holding onto Mo’s waist.

“I meant something other than a human, mind you,” he chuckled.

“I know, I know. But just wait until you see cats and dogs.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, because right now I’m smitten with the sheep.”

Kent was glad the farmer was nowhere in sight because he knew they must’ve made quite the picture: two shirtless men, holding onto each other so closely, enchanted by a simple flock of sheep.

The town was still quite a good distance away, and Kent knew that before they approached, Mo and him had a lot to discuss on how they would go about finding hospitality. Not only that, how would he introduce Mo to his family when they finally found a way back to Fareham House?

“You’ll need a human name,” said Kent, walking with Mo down a cart path cutting through the grassy fields. He wasn’t supporting Mo’s weight as much anymore as to encourage him to balance on his own, but he still kept one hand touching Mo’s back. “Humans have at least two names: a Christian name and a family name. For example, Kent is my Christian name and Wilson is my family name. Fareham is simply a title because of my nobility, so you won’t need to worry about that.”

“All right,” said Mo with a grin. “What do you suppose would be a good name for me?”

Kent hummed and scratched his chin with his free hand. “Something similar to Mo. How about Mo… Mo… Mor… Maurice? Yes, what do you think of Maurice?”

“Maurice…” he said it slowly, as if weighing the syllables on his tongue. “I like it! Would that be a ‘Christian name’ or a ‘family name’?”

“A Christian name. That way I can still call you ‘Mo’ for short. Humans use shorter forms of names as terms of endearment.” Kent winked at him. “Though I’ll likely only call you Mo when we’re alone, or perhaps around my sister.”

“Ah, yes. I remember her. She’ll be one of the only people who knows the truth of who I am.”

“Mhmm.” Kent nodded, leading them toward the buildings of the town he saw in the distance. “As for a family name, I suppose it doesn’t matter, as long as it’s not my own. But it will still have to suit you, since that’s what most people will actually call you.”

“Is this some sort of… formality rules?”

“Yes, unfortunately. So people will only call you Maurice if they are close to you.”

“I understand. I think the only other person who I heard call you ‘Kent’ was your sister.”

“Precisely. So, what would go with Maurice… Something that you wouldn’t mind being called by strangers… Maurice R—how about Richards? Yes, that’s a well good family name.”

“If you like it, then I like it!” Mo exclaimed, and then he nearly stumbled, catching himself before he fell completely over.

“Woah, easy now!” Kent held out an arm to help Mo balance. “Perhaps you should watch your feet as you walk, to prevent yourself from tripping. Are you in pain?”

“A bit, yes.” Mo grimaced, then shook his head, making his expression relax. “I’ll be fine. This is the first time I’ve ever walked before, you know.”

“Of course. Do you want to take it at a slower pace?”

“Not really, because I’m too curious to see what the inside of a human building looks like. I’ve only seen paintings of them; I wish to witness it myself.”

“All right, all right,” Kent chuckled, and they continued walking like before. “Maurice Richards. That will be your human name.”

“Maurice Richards. Thank you, Kent. I wouldn’t have gotten a better name from anyone else.” Mo lifted his hand and placed it on the small of Kent’s back.

“You’re very welcome, Mr Richards.”

They walked along the path further, and it wasn’t much longer to where if they went any closer, most likely another person would spot them. So far they were lucky to have not come across anyone in this very rural area, but they needed to have a story. They needed to be prepared for what to tell the townspeople to explain themselves and their state of undress, though thankfully, Kent had an idea of what they could say that wasn’t that far from the truth.

He told Mo the plan: Maurice Richards was a man Kent met on board The Sterling Mer, a swab who had no living family or place to call his own. Both of them, along with some friends they were searching for (Allen, Seth, and perhaps Wenta) were taken captive as prisoners aboard a pirate ship. But suddenly the weather turned for the worse and the ship sank, not too far away, and they all had bravely swam back to shore. Kent could hopefully use his status as nobility to garner them a nice place to stay for the night, along with a coach to travel back to Stubbington. And perhaps, if they were lucky, they’d run into their missing friends again.

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