Page 4 of The Noble's Merman

The voice didn’t reply; only the waves of the sea answered back.

I thought I was all alone out here. I couldn’t—I still can’t see anything. Am I imagining things? Hallucinations? No, it sounded so clear. Surely, there was someone?—

And there, to his right and past his blind spot, he heard movement in the water. He searched with his good eye, whipping his head to the sound of splashing, something behind that tall boulder?—

It looked like a fishtail.

A frilly, impossibly large fishtail with brown and gold fins, shimmering in the sunset.

And as soon as he saw it, it disappeared back into the water.

“What the…” Kent stammered, blinking his eyes. “What the devil was that?”

He continued to stand in place, gazing at that same spot in the water. Seconds, minutes passed, and nothing else emerged. The sea remained calm, rolling thin whitecaps of delicate, gentle foam.

There was no way what he saw wasn’t real. Not with the sunlight shining on it and the clear sounds of splashing. But it didn’t make any sense—if it was a fishtail, how come it was so large? Did fish as large as that ever come this close to shore? It couldn’t have been a dolphin or a small whale, no, those creatures never came in those colors. Perhaps it was a new discovery? A fish that hadn’t ever been documented? Possibly, but that didn’t explain how he also heard a male voice. Fish didn’t talk. No, perhaps it also could’ve been?—

Merfolk.

“No, that… that can’t be.”

Kent put his eyepatch back on over his right eye and tied the string behind his head. He huffed out a lingering breath, taking in the sight of the sea as the sun moved past the horizon in the west.

For years, Kent wanted to believe merfolk were real. From the amazing pamphlets he’d read, stories and legends he’d heard from various people, it was all such a dreamy fantasy. Whether they actually existed or not, Kent loved to imagine a different world than his own, of half-human, half-fish creatures living peacefully under the water. And with so many pamphlets on the subject that the authors treated as factual, so many tales told through word of mouth, how could such a thing not be true?

But despite his beliefs, all he had was faith. There was no proof merfolk actually existed. Members of nobility had always said merfolk were a myth conjured up by sailors; fun stories to pass the time while endlessly bored out at sea. And such tales evolved, passing onto the common folk taken as fact, when it was nothing more than fiction.

Even so, Kent kept an open mind. What if the Crown was simply spreading rumors to suppress the knowledge of merfolk’s existence? Possibly, but what was more likely was the majority of the peerage truly didn’t believe they were real, never having seen them. From what Kent knew, merfolk rarely showed themselves to humans in the first place.

If—that were true. If merfolk were real.

Kent turned and walked towards the trees, back to Biscuit. He petted her nose as he smiled dearly at her.

“Did you see it too? Or were you too far away?”

Biscuit shook her head, then huffed, making Kent pull his hand away.

“I don’t even know why I’m asking,” Kent chuckled. He sat down on the grass and pulled his stockings, his shoes, and his coat back on.

It was bizarre how in only a few short moments, he’d nearly forgotten why he’d come out here in the first place, now so focused on what he saw.

This trip to the beach was taken out of anger, impulsively, after disagreeing with his father and an attempt to settle the confusion and melancholy that endlessly mustered around in his mind. Love and marriage, that was the cause. He was hurt; he didn’t wish to be seen as a disappointment, and he didn’t want to feel so alone all the while.

While the sea had always been a steady constant, now it gave him something back that made him scratch his head even more. Was this a sign? Something telling him to come here, that if Kent was searching for relief from all his troubles, that all he had to do was look toward the ocean.

What’s waiting out here for me?

Kent stood, gaze still locked onto the sea.

Please. Tomorrow. Same time, same place. I will be waiting, the mysterious voice had said, Kent was sure he heard correctly.

“Perhaps I shall come again,” he told Biscuit, grinning. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

She grunted, and Kent could guess she might’ve approved of his decision.

THREE

Kent hardly slept that night. He dreamt of merfolk, the stories from his books, of what it would be like to live under the water. Wondering how it felt to be able to breathe underwater, what sorts of cities lay under the waves, what sort of civilizations were just out of his reach. As soon as the dream version of himself had ducked his head under the surface, on the verge of discovering something great—he’d woken up. Time and time again throughout the night.

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