The Mermaids Madness

‘persuasion, ’ ” said Father Isaac, emerging from the vestibule at the back of the chapel. He carried Lirea’s knife in both hands. “While I can understand her urgency, I fear her passion will lead her down dark paths.”
    “You have no idea,” said Talia.
    Snow stomped through the church and snatched the knife before whirling on Talia. “How did you trick me into falling asleep, anyway? I don’t remember drinking anything.”
    “Magic.” Talia waved her fingers. “Now sit down. If you’re going to break Morveren’s spells, you need to know the truth about what she tried to do.”

    Danielle walked slowly through the palace, Armand at her side. She was still trying to process everything Talia had shared. How many people had died because of Morveren’s quest to “improve” her race? “Do you believe her? That the undine have no souls?”
    Armand shrugged. “There are some who say the same of the fairy folk. I’m told there was a time women were thought to be soulless as well, and children weren’t named or accepted as human until their fourth birthday.”
    “But Morveren’s magic lets her manipulate souls. Wouldn’t she know the truth?”
    “Perhaps,” he admitted. “Or perhaps the undine are simply different.”
    They had just reached the kitchen when a page came running. “Princess Whiteshore,” he gasped. “Captain Varisto demands you meet with him.”
    “Thank you, Fenton.” Danielle stared longingly through the kitchen door, inhaling the smell of fresh-baked bread and cinnamon. “I suppose I should be grateful he waited this long.”
    “I’ll grab something for you,” Armand promised. “You go get ready.”
    “What do you mean?”
    Armand’s eyebrow quirked. “You’re going to be meeting with a prince of Hilad. You might want to run a brush through that hair, and maybe even grab that crown you love so much.”
    Danielle groaned and turned back toward her room.
    Two handmaidens were already waiting when she arrived. Before she could protest, they began stuffing her into a formal forest green gown, cinching the waist tightly enough to interfere with her breathing.
    “What have you done to yourself?” asked the older girl, Aimee. She grabbed a hank of Danielle’s hair and tugged a comb through the ends. “Did you spend your entire time at sea standing in the wind, just to make our jobs more difficult?”
    Danielle grimaced, but didn’t struggle. She had learned a long time ago that fighting only made it worse. “If I’d had to endure this to attend the ball, I think I would have left Armand to my stepsisters.”
    The other girl, Sandra, pressed a hand to her mouth to cover a giggle. She turned away to pull out a drawer at the base of the wardrobe, retrieving a pair of glass slippers.
    Danielle shook her head hard enough to yank the comb from Aimee’s hands. “I haven’t been able to fit into those since before I had Jakob.”
    Armand returned a while later, bearing a cinnamon-topped pastry in one hand. He pressed it into Danielle’s hand, then retrieved her sword from beside the bed where she had left it the night before.
    “Bless you,” Danielle said, taking an enormous bite of the pastry. Armand stepped around behind her, strapping the sword belt to her waist despite Aimee’s protests.
    “She’s meeting a Hiladi prince,” Armand said. “If she goes unarmed, he’ll believe her weak. Given that they’ve already faced one another in battle, he’ll likely take it as an insult.” He stepped back and gave Danielle an appraising look. “You shouldn’t need to use it, as long as you refrain from any further insults. But carrying a weapon means you respect him as a threat.”
    Aimee stood on her toes to set Danielle’s crown onto her brow. The braided circlet of silver and gold was heavier than it looked. The metal felt cold against her forehead. She closed her eyes as Sandra dabbed an eye-watering scent onto her neck.
    “How did he find out about our . . . visit to Hilad?” she asked.
    Armand shook his head. “I don’t see how the undine could have reached him so quickly, and I can’t imagine he sailed close enough to spy on you. Not without Hephyra noticing. That woman has eyes like a hawk.”
    “I’ve never seen eyes so green,” Danielle said.
    Armand snorted. “You should see her in the fall. They change with the seasons, turning the most amazing shade of hazel.”
    Danielle stood as her handmaidens adjusted her hair, her gown, and even