Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

desperate straits. Law forbids I kill or harm your grandmother, but I will not let her kill one of my children, you know that. But I don't think that is necessary when the curse is much easier to break than that."
    Seree opened his mouth, then closed it again. "What do you mean? You know how to break the curse? As easily as that?"
    Looking amused again, Meris replied, "Seree, you're the best warrior in my palace, I daresay in my kingdom. You've served me faithfully since you were a boy, always there when I needed you— no matter what the reason, no matter what the cost."
    "Yes," Seree said, because obviously— what else was he supposed to do?
    "Did you know I sent your cousin Trel to land the other day over in the seventh sea?"
    Seree stared at him, confused by both the odd turn in conversation and the amount of wine his father must have drunk to think that was a good idea. Trel was hopeless when it came to acting like a human. Most of the others were. Seree had more knives than his father had warriors he could completely trust to go on land.
    "You weren't there," Meris said defensively. "It was him or the other cousin."
    His cousins numbered in the alarming digits, but Seree knew who he meant. But he really wasn't interested in discussing his sharky cousin. "I see. What does this have to do with my dying in two days? By the time you come to your point, I will be dead."
    Meris sighed, but he still sounded entirely too amused for Seree's taste. "My point is that, of all the men and women at my disposal, you are the only one who can pass as human with ease— who has no trouble being human. You know the ways of not just one sea, but of all of them. Your knowledge of them surpasses even mine. More and more of your duties involve going to land, despite the pain it must cause you."
    Seree opened his mouth, closed it, and then finally said, "As you say, no one else is good at it. I'm the best."
    "No one endures that sort of pain over and over again just because they're good at pretending to be human," Meris said. "No one suffers that amount of pain, time and again, for something they absolutely hate."
    Huffing in irritation, Seree said, "So what, I do it because I like it?"
    "You like being on land, Ser," Meris said. "I wondered if you knew it, and decided you must, because surely at some point in all these years you would have figured it out. Clearly, I gave you too much credit. Do you remember the way you used to demand bed time stories from me as a child?"
    "No."
    Meris smiled at him. "Your favorites were of those who journeyed onto land. You loved the story of Beltana, especially. After your mother died, you didn't want story times any more. You grew up way too fast and spent all of your time on work and duty. The only time you linger on anything is when you are on land."
    "I don't dawdle—"
    "I said linger, not dawdle," Meris said, levity turning into sternness. "There's a difference, Seree. You always linger. You say it is to be thorough, but you linger— savor. I'm not sure why you deny it to yourself, but you're drawn to the land."
    Seree shook his head, unable to say anything. "I'm not. I'm a warrior of the Deep, I protect—"
    "You've done enough protecting, Seree. When your mother admonished you to always take care of your family, she did not mean for you to sacrifice yourself. She would not want that."
    "Father—"
    "You called me up for advice, Ser, and I am giving it: whatever you tell yourself, you are not happy as you are. Content, maybe, but that is not the same thing. Your mother was the first to teach me the difference. Stop telling yourself what you think the rest of us want to hear and be honest." He patted Seree's cheek. "Amusing that I have so many children who think they want to be on land and must be fetched back, and the one child I have who would be happy up here tries to deny it. Your curse is easy to break, Seree." He nodded at something past Seree's shoulder. "Go talk to your pretty young man there."
    Seree whipped around, heard his father laugh, and felt him depart, but nearly all his attention was on Aimé. He stood far enough away not to have overheard; his expression was a tangle of curiosity, wistfulness, and resignation. His gold hair was loose around his shoulders, the morning breeze tugging at his loose shirt and flashing teasing bits of skin.
    Aimé tensed as Seree waded out of the water and walked up the beach to him. "I'm sorry— I didn't know— I just wanted to talk to you