Page 128 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
One prince falling for me was strange enough. How am I supposed to live with that damn siren blood knowing it can influence emotions in ways I don't totally understand?
He offers a sad smile. "Lady Snow... no offense, but my heart is a fucking fortress.”
"Listen to the girl. She needs a warm drink and a good night's sleep. Not romance," Mabel interjects.
He caresses my spine up and down in a soothing motion. "Okay, then I'll meet you back here in a few days, and we'll think of a plan."
I’m too overwhelmed to reply. He presses his mouth to mine for a quick second, and the gesture is so tender and natural… it scares me to my core.
"I'll see you soon, Lady Snow."
I offer a small nod, and he disappears through the mirror, leaving me alone with Mabel.
"He's a passionate kid. It usually gets him into trouble," Mabel comments. "You've never trained your song, have you?"
"How did you know? The first time you saw me, you knew."
"Plenty of Sea folk lived on the coast of the Islantide, in my day. I can tell the difference."
“It’s almost funny how this worked out. Aidan planned to ask you to marry us tonight."
"If it helps, I wouldn't have agreed."
"Why?" I ask, lowering my gaze. "Because of what I am?"
Her kind eyes soften, her bite of power washing over me like a warm blanket. "No, because of who he's meant to become."
A raven lands on the windowsill and taps on the glass, spooking me. Mabel peels herself from her seat and inches the window open. The bird deposits a rolled piece of parchment in the cup of her hand before flying off to its perch in the corner.
I watch the sleek black bird for a moment before asking, “Who is Aidan meant to become?”
"Never mind that now. Most prophecies end up being incorrect, especially those about the end of the world." She unrolls the message. "My grandson was right. I'm used to smuggling all sorts of troubled folks out of Faerie. And the world hasn't been particularly kind to your lot, not since the fall of my first husband."
The scope of her life hits me all at once. This woman has lived through all the wars and battles and history I’ve been studying.
"Was the Eye of the Mists as beautiful as the legends say?"
Her eyes glaze over. "It was all they say andmore." She takes a meaningful pause, staring off at the emptiness in front of her as if it’s a gilded and glorious past. After a minute, she clears her throat. “I know someone who can help you. She's in America now, but she's trained stranded sirens before.”
I consider her offer.
Unless I learn how to control the siren in me, I will never be sure of a man’s heart again. And in spite of what he said, Ezra can’t make the trip back and forth from Faerie without being followed. Ethan would probably beat his son to death before allowing him to cavort in the new world with me—or loving anyone he isn’t told to.
Besides, I love Aidan. And I will love Aidan until my last breath.
Ezra is better off without me in his life altogether. He might have been forced into an arranged marriage, but he doesn’t deserve to pine over someone who doesn’t love him back.
Mabel sips on her tea, pulling me out of my dark thoughts. “Mélusine is getting old, but I'd say she wouldn't pass up the chance to help someone as brave as you."
"Brave? I'm not brave,” I scoff.
Mabel tips her cup of tea toward me. “You stood without a shred of fear on that altar at Ezra’s wedding, under the scrutiny of the most powerful beings in the worlds, while secretly planning to elope with the Crown Prince of the Summerlands. I'd say that's pretty courageous."
"Naive and dumb is more like it."
"Don't do that. Don't sell yourself short for dreaming up a better world, young Beth. When you've lived as long as I have, you might find some dreams end up stretching farther than we ever thought possible.”
“Dreams and nightmares, too,” I say quickly, thinking of her life before she came here.
