Page 100 of The Noble's Merman

“It required a deep connection within ourselves,” said Kent, and then he gazed into Mo’s eyes with a smile. “Needless to say, we fell in love. And our love was what connected us to make the shift happen.”

Mo smiled back at him. “Yes. Now, I can live on land with you all. I’ve always wished to live among humans, even when I was little, so this is my biggest wish come true.”

Katherine put one hand over her bosom and fanned her face with the other. “You’re going to make my teeth rot with how sweet you are. So, Mo—or should I say Maurice—how is it having legs? It must feel so strange when you were used to having a tail all your life.”

Mo chuckled. “It is strange, and there’s this lingering pain I feel, especially if I exert myself too much. But I’m getting used to it. Just an adjustment I have to make, and I’m more than willing.”

“Of course.” Katherine nodded. “Then the whole story of how you swam away from the pirate ship. What happened? What’s the real story there? Maurice wasn’t already a human then, was he?”

“You can still call me Mo, if you’d prefer,” said Mo, and then he looked at Kent. They’d discussed on the way here that since Katherine already knew so much, it was only fair to tell her the entire truth. “Shall I tell her or would you like to?”

“I’ll do it.” Kent gulped, then focused his gaze on his sister. “Mo was still a merman, and used the Siren’s Song to sink the pirate ship. We fell into the water, and he swam us both to shore.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait.” Katherine jerked her head toward Mo. “The Siren’s Song? Are you telling me this man here is a siren? A vicious killer of the seas, and you just brought him here to live with us?!”

Mo’s jaw hung open, absolutely speechless, and Kent had to step in. He waved his hands frantically and it snapped his sister’s attention back on him. “Yes, he’s a siren, but do not fret! He used the Song to save me. Those pirates were… they were being absolutely horrible to me, violating me. They’d also restrained Mo, so singing the Song was the only thing he could do to stop them. You must understand how much I appreciate him saving my life. Mo promised not to use his power again unless he absolutely had to. I believe him most certainly, and I ask that you will too, Kathy.”

His sister’s brows shot up high on her forehead, lips parted in surprise. “Oh, oh Kent…” She swallowed, then licked her lips. “I’m sorry. Kent, I’m so sorry that happened to you. This information just comes as a shock, you know. With every story I’ve heard of sirens, how cruel they are, you wouldn’t think—I mean, Mo seems so kind! And he is, of course. He did save your life. Oh, I’m making a fool of myself.”

“No, please, you are fine.” Kent leant over and put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “I was shocked by it all, too. But please trust me, to know you can trust Mo as well. Why else would he become human and come here with me if we didn’t love and trust each other with all our hearts?” He looked at Mo, giving him a reassuring smile, and he saw how Mo’s shoulders slumped in relief.

Kent pulled his hand away. And then, Katherine sighed, shaking her head. She smiled as well. “I see. Yes, you’re right.”

“Kent speaks the truth: I promise to not use the Song again,” said Mo, addressing Katherine. “Not unless I have to, if any of you need my protection. But then again, I’m unsure if I can even use the Song at all whilst in human form, so… there’s that.”

“I see, I see.” Katherine nodded. “I apologize, I believe you. Thank you for trusting me with this, as it is a rather important secret.”

“You’re welcome, and you’re fine,” said Mo.

“Of course,” said Kent.

Katherine covered her mouth as she giggled, then looked at Kent. “So now, Mo is going to be staying here indefinitely. And—I’d actually thought of an idea, since I knew that a merman wouldn’t have any prospects for a human job right away, you know. When you’d left for your trip on The Sterling Mer, Turner left for work elsewhere, leaving you without a valet whenever you’d return home. I wasn’t sure if you’d hire someone new once you came back, but now that Mo is here…”

A light flickered in Kent’s head. “Oh, I see what you’re getting at. Well, all right, Mo,” he said, “So, I used to have someone work for me as a personal servant. Now, I understand if you wouldn’t want to work in a servant’s position, but?—”

“Kent, as your most beloved, I already devote my entire life to serving you.” Mo reached for Kent’s hand and took it in his. “So doing it as a paid job is only a bonus. I would love to work for you.”

Kent’s heart soared at Mo’s wonderful words. “I still would love to see you try painting, so even if you do work for me, please, don’t give up that passion.”

Mo smiled so sweetly. “Oh no, I would never give that up.”

THIRTY-FOUR

Aquarter of a moon passed as Mo was adjusting to human life. He didn’t officially take the position of Kent’s valet yet, as he needed time to learn what sorts of things a valet even did. But Kent helped him practice his duties, teaching Mo how to tie his cravat, button his coats, and shine his shoes. Mo was delighted to do it all. Being Kent’s personal assistant was the perfect excuse for him to be close to his beloved as oft as he could during the day, and honestly, it just felt good to serve him.

Apparently, one of a valet’s other usual duties was also to shave his employer’s face, but Kent mentioned he’d always done that himself. Kent took pride in knowing how to use a razor with ease, and he even helped Mo shave since he no longer had his claws. Kent didn’t keep his short beard for long and was soon back to being smooth-faced again, but he was still just as handsome. Beard or no beard, Kent would always be the most beautiful man in the world in Mo’s eyes.

Mo was assigned his own bedroom to have his own space if he needed, and as protocol for complying with human customs. As a guest of the house and a man himself, he couldn’t openly claim Kent’s bedroom as his own too, after all. But there was a slim door that connected Mo’s bedroom with Kent’s, for ease of access as his servant, so no one would know the better if Kent simply… kept it unlocked. And Mo just… happened to slip in. Every night. Mo never slept in his own bed, and crawled under the covers with Kent every time.

Walking was much easier now, no longer needing help for balance, and he was getting used to climbing up and down stairs. But despite that, pain still flared every now and then. It certainly was lessening as time went on, and he had no doubt that perhaps in another quarter moon the pain would go away completely, but it still being there at all limited what he felt capable of.

For instance, now that he and Kent had their own private space and Kent’s wonderful plush bed, Mo wanted more than ever to be intimate with him. Helping him dress and undress, caressing his body as they cuddled to sleep, kissing him fervently as they lay in bed—it all stoked a fire within his belly. But Mo was afraid to exert his new body in such a way when the pain was still there. Not just that, he was nervous due to his inexperience as a human. So until he felt completely comfortable, he would abstain from taking his own pleasure, but that didn’t mean he left Kent hanging. Oh no, he made sure to ravish Kent splendidly with his mouth, now easier and more wonderful than ever with his flatter teeth. Kent cried in ecstasy each time Mo swallowed down his delightful release.

One afternoon, they took a carriage out to Portsmouth for Mo to experience the city. He’d only seen it from the angle in the water by the docks, so being here on land with every other human was absolutely spectacular. Kent treated him to dinner at an eating house, and Mo was thrilled to find they sold squid tentacles there. Not raw squid like he was used to, no—human-cooked roasted squid. It only enhanced the flavor of his favorite food even more, so incredibly delicious, and Mo swore he’d never go back to eating it raw ever again. Kent laughed, cheeks flushed red, having to remind Mo to use his fork instead of just tearing at it with his bare hands.

Afterwards, they visited a place called a tavern, which Kent told him served rum and other forms of alcohol. Kent reassured him that he didn’t have to drink any if he didn’t wish to, especially with his fear of losing control of the Song, but the offer was there if he wanted to take it. Mo thought he’d be fine if he limited himself to only a couple drinks, as long as he stuck to one crucial rule: absolutely no singing.

Though, as they were served their drinks at the bar, Mo looked around the room at all the people scattered about. Some people were standing around, some were sitting at their own tables, and there—there was one particular group of three: a woman with bright orange hair tied in a knot behind her head, and a wide, burly man with hair of the exact same shade, long and wavy down his back?—

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