Page 49 of The Noble's Merman

Kent shook his head. “No, I’ve only met them a few days ago. Allen… oh, at the meeting we had at the tavern, I remembered he was worried you’d be a siren.”

Mo’s breath hitched, blood running cold.

“But I quickly told him, ‘No, he’s not. You’ve nothing to worry about.’ He understood, and the captain backed me up as well.” He smiled, completely oblivious to any inner turmoil Mo was feeling.

Mo sighed a most relieving sigh, glad of that. He sincerely hoped the magic of the Song would not creep its ugly head at any time during their journey. He didn’t know how he’d explain the sudden sickness to Kent without revealing everything. But what Kent said made Mo even more curious about Allen—did he have some sort of connection to merfolk? He shouldn’t be able to detect the Song’s presence unless he was mer himself. Perhaps he couldn’t; perhaps it wasn’t the Song that drew Allen to Mo, but something else about him entirely.

The thought tugged at Mo’s brain so. He had to find out.

“Well, I’m glad everything is fine.” He smiled at Kent. They continued chatting about everything and nothing until other men happened in on their conversation again, asking Mo questions of merfolk and life under the sea.

After spending time with Mo for some hours, the captain invited the merman to dine with them all on the main deck since it was a gorgeous day, and Kent was delighted. While not everyone could eat at the same hour due to their duties on the ship, Kent was still glad Mo could be around the crew some more. Each moment socializing was a step in the right direction—or should he say swim in the right direction? Either way, Kent learnt more about everyone there, and with how Mo’s handsome smile graced his face, Kent took comfort in the cheerful atmosphere. They really were here. Together. Amongst other people, not afraid to show Mo for who he really was. It brought so much warmth to Kent’s heart.

But as the sun lowered in the sky and blues turned to oranges, Mo needed to return to the sea. He opted out from being lowered by the net, telling Kent that he thought it’d be more fun and thrilling to dive straight off the ship. To which, Kent laughed and agreed. Before he lept off, Mo snuck Kent a quick kiss before anyone could see, and he threw himself into the water. Come morning, they would see each other again. Kent hoped his heart wouldn’t fail with how hard it beat in anticipation.

He found his quarters again belowdecks, in the small room under the forecastle. He lit the lantern on the dresser; whilst the sea crystal Mo gave him would’ve been a more practical solution to lighting, he’d left it at Fareham House, figuring such a precious gift was better kept safe at home. He took off the majority of his clothes and washed up with the basin, preparing himself for sleep. Honestly, he’d never slept in a hammock before. He’d rested in a hammock, yes, but that was different. While his stomach had settled for the most part since the sickness he felt earlier, perhaps that was only because he was keeping himself rooted on his feet. To be in a hammock, swinging with each sway and bob of the waves moving them… he would manage. It would be tough, but he’d manage.

He grabbed a pamphlet he’d packed in his suitcase and lay down, adjusting himself in the swaying hammock as comfortably as he could. It was rather humid inside the wooden walls from the hot summer sun earlier, so he figured he probably didn’t need a blanket… but who was he jesting? He never went a night without one. So he got up, grabbed a thin linen sheet from the drawer beside him, and draped it over his body as he lay down again. There, that was good.

Finally decently comfortable, he opened up his pamphlet. Of course, it was one about merfolk: Legends and Tales from Merfolk, our Companions Under the Sea. It told various stories that Kent always assumed were fictional, to which yes, perhaps they were. But he flipped to the pages of a certain tale that was on his mind, one where a mermaid became human.

It was one that he’d even found in another pamphlet, and one that he’d confirmed Mo knew as well. In the tale, a ship was caught in a storm, destroyed, and her crew fell into the ocean. But a mermaid was there, and saved one of the sailors from drowning. She brought him back to land, to which she sang him a lovely song, and after meeting each other more despite all odds, the two fell in love. Once they finally kissed for the first time, their love brought the magic forth, and gave the mermaid legs.

Love.

Kent felt a pang in his heart. Whilst Mo hadn’t saved Kent from drowning, other aspects of the story were painfully familiar. How they met on the beach time and time again, how they both sang to each other, how they kissed, how they fell…

Have I fallen in love with Mo?

He shut the pamphlet and quietly set it on the floor next to him. As much as he cared for and adored Mo, he never quite knew how to put his feelings into words other than that. But that was what this was, wasn’t it? Love?

How else could he explain the sheer tug in his heart every time Mo wasn’t around, desperate to see him again? The butterflies that filled his chest every time they kissed, every touch of their hands, every gentle word spoken. How terribly he wanted Mo to be here right now, curled up next to himself on the hammock, petting the soft hair on Mo’s chest. Not just now, he wanted it every day. Living together, sleeping in the same bed and waking up to his handsome face in the morning. To be with him forevermore.

It sounded like he wanted to marry him.

Perhaps I do?

He never could truly, legally, but the sentiment was still there. As ridiculous as it may be, it all started to make sense. With why he’d decided he couldn’t marry a woman anymore. Why he craved Mo’s touch. Why his feelings were so strong, warming his chest even now at the thought of his merman.

But if that was the case, how could Mo still not become human? Was there something they were missing? The mermaid in the story kissed her lover and then right at that very moment gained legs. Kissing obviously didn’t work for Kent and Mo. Neither did sex, but Kent wasn’t expecting that to work, either. Or was it something about saying those three words, ones Kent had never spoken yet, but wondered if perhaps he should…?

Would that do anything, though? Perhaps it wasn’t anything mechanical like that, and had more to do with the emotional connection? It was hard to tell what was true or not, when all they had for reference were legends that were written so vaguely no one could confirm or deny them. And those weren’t counting the legends that were definitely false, like a sea witch casting a magic spell (which wasn’t even real according to Mo), or a mer sitting out of the water at sunset (which Mo did every night they met—always keeping his tail).

There had to be something else, but Kent tried not to dwell on it. He figured if it truly was possible, they should find out eventually, so no need to worry himself any more. Perhaps one of the crew knew. If not, perhaps they’d meet someone else along the way that could help them.

Regardless, he was glad to be traveling with Mo. The sooner he fell asleep, the sooner they could see each other again.

EIGHTEEN

About a quarter of a moon passed swimming and boarding The Sterling Mer. Mo was getting used to sleeping on a whale, breaching the surface every now and then, as strange as it seemed. But Noon was surprisingly comfortable, and also incredibly easy to talk to. Despite being a sea creature who couldn’t even talk with humans herself, she had a vast amount of knowledge about them. She said she’d spoken to many a number of merfolk over her years, and learnt great things through their conversations that never left her memory. A whale never forgets, and the saying was true. Which gave Mo the idea to ask her about his great inquiry, despite being the least likely creature who would know the answer…

“Noon, do you know of any way that a mer could become human themself?” he asked one night, laying on his side on her back.

“I do know that it is possible, yes,” she replied.

Mo sat up on his elbows. “Then do you know the process? Of how it can happen? And please, could you confirm to me if the Siren’s Song makes no difference?”

Noon hummed before she spoke. “I do not know the process entirely. I wish I could give you a precise answer. From what I have gathered, the mer needs to have a deep connection with humanity, or it could be with a singular human, for the shift to occur. What that connection is or how one knows when it is there is unclear to me. But I do know the connection must be reciprocated, truthfully, wholly, and completely. To answer your other question—yes. Whatever magic a mer possesses makes no difference. All merfolk carry the ability to become human.”

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