Page 45 of Cursed Waters

The bottom of Barren’s jaw fell open like he was carefully choosing how to respond. Then he let out a deep sigh that hinted that he knew that whatever answer he gave wouldn’t be accepted without complaint.

“Not yet, Your—”

“A change of plans? And just what authority does the Indian Ocean have over the Atlantic’s plans?” Hostility sizzled in King Eamon’s voice. “We welcomed you here, extending nothing more than aninvitation ofcelebrationto witness our grand accomplishment. You have no say in any of it!”

Oh, this was definitely getting good.

The way he’d overly emphasized the “invitation of celebration” part had me fighting back a chuckle. Geez, like throwing a mermaid into a cage was really an accomplishment worth celebrating.

“Need I remind you whose land you’re standing on? Whose chair you’re sitting in? Shall we reminisce over who came to your aid, clothing and feeding and even furnishing that scrap of tinfoil you’re hiding under!” Her noble facade was clearly unraveling. Her volume escalated with every word, and yet all three of our shoulders naturally slumped over the phone, eager to hear the next retort.

King Eamon snarled. “Yes, yes, and those debts will be paid in time! This is entirely—”

“You will hand her over or prepare to be cast out! The mermaid belongs to me!”

“The mermaid belongs to no one!” I cut in, and two pairs of eyes flashed to me, their stunned faces blinking so hard at me I started blinking back at them, too. What? It was true.

Queen Javalynn breathed out an appalled gasp. “What did you say to me?”

I crouched over Barren’s hand so she could hear me better. “The mermaid doesn’t belong to anyone! I’ve spoken to the scribe here and—”

“And who are you to speak of my scribe?” King Eamon hissed in return.

“Oh, this is Prince Kai. Kai Corentine, of the Pacific kingdom—ninth prince, son of King Darias. Hello, King Eamon, Queen Javalynn. You haven’t heard from me before because you forgot to give me a phone when you were handing them out but, uh, hello.” I cleared my throat.Note to self:practice my introduction for future political intrusions.“As I was saying, I spoke to your scribe, and technically, neither of you have any hold over, uh, sorry, I’m blanking on her name.”

“Nerida Galen,” King Eamon spat out, just like I’d hoped he would. Too easy. “She was born under my rule; I have every right to her!”

“That’s right! I spoke to your scribe about a Nerida Galen, but he informed me she was officially deceased. Very, very sad to hear it. The document stating so was even signed by your own hand. Then notarized. I mean, so I don’t know what mermaid youthinkyou captured, but the Law of the Ocean clearly states a free mermaid can’t be held—”

“You invited us to your celebration when you had no claim over her?”

Oh man, Queen Javalynn soundedangry.

“A free mermaid can’t be held against—” I tried again, but a growl cut me off.

“The Atlantic is no longer concerned with what the Law of the Ocean states! Our tridents were the law, and now they’re just as lost to us as the rest of it all!”

A unanimous gasp broke from every throat, followed by a solemn stillness.

I took in a prolonged breath. “Well, I am not a king, but I know that without our laws, we, as merfolk, are nothing. Trident or not, the Pacific will always maintain the Law of the Ocean. You may ask for her help, but if I see a mermaid held captive against her will, be it on land or at sea, the Pacific will not hesitate to let loose the tempests of war.”

“You, a mere fallback princeling, dare speak to a king about war?”

“Such a waste of my time,” Queen Javalynn hissed, and then the conversation went dead. I paused, my mouth still poised to speak, as I waited to see if King Eamon had disappeared as well. When the phone screen turned black, I straightened back up.

“I think I got through to them,” I said with a smile and raised my fist in a cheer. When neither of them returned my act of celebration, I toed at the trash at my feet. “You, uh… you don’t think King Eamon is going to murder his scribe now, do you?”

18

Claira

Iawoke with a groan, peeling my drool-slicked arm from my face. How long had I been asleep?Ugh.And why was everything so bright?

My eyes burned in protest as I blinked up at the unfamiliar lines of metal spanning the ceiling.What the heck?

I rolled over, half expecting to bury my face into the cool side of a cupcake-printed pillowcase and saw only a lumpy, off-whitething. A heavy, masculine scent caught in my nostrils, instantly bombarding me with a rush of memories from the night before. The water. The boat. The press of lips against mine.

“… Oh.”

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