Chapter 9
NINE
O ver the length of about half a moon, Mo met Kent on the beach, time after wonderful time. Every other day, Mo was always waiting for his beautiful human to return. They read more of the history book (which no information thus far was inaccurate), chatted about how similar or different human life was compared, and Kent brought a piece of food for Mo each time. The most delicious of them all was the most recent present: cake. Mo had never tasted anything so enticingly sweet; he knew he would grow addicted were he to have more of it. He thanked Kent by presenting his own gift: a whelk shell. The smile on Kent’s face never failed to make Mo’s heart soar.
On one of the days, Kent sang for Mo again, delighted to hear his amazing voice. It in turn prompted Kent to ask Mo to sing for him again, too. It was wonderful, connecting with the human in this way, sharing each other’s songs note after note. Kent smiled so sweetly and said, “Are you certain you are not a siren, using magic to make yourself sound so wonderful, luring me in?”
His tone was in a joking manner, but Mo’s chest tightened. He laughed along with Kent, hiding his inner worries. “No, I’m not using any magic to sing.” He could answer truthfully, in this instance.
On other days, Kent joined him in the water again, splashing, playing, having fun. Each time they met, Mo could feel them getting closer to each other, physically—holding hands, gentle touches, even giving hugs before they parted. And not just that, but emotionally closer as well. Kent was opening up about his life, little by little. Kent said he lost his eyesight in his right eye from a simple accident when he was younger, running into a desk. He also told Mo about his drive to help people, how he went to a university called ‘Oxford’ to study medicine, how his mother taught him how to stitch wounds, and how he occasionally volunteered at a place called the ‘barber-surgeon’. Mo realized he’d heard the word ‘surgeon’ before—Captain Brooks mentioned it to his crewman.
Presently, Kent was reading another passage of the history book, sitting on the beach at Mo’s right, his eyepatch taken off his face and laying on the ground. They were on a chapter that made Kent blush adorably at simply the mention of it: Families, Courting, and Reproduction. First he read aloud about younglings, how they are born live from their mother instead of from an egg, and how they are raised by their parents. Typically, it wasn’t really different from how humans were raised. Sure, there were certain things that would always be different, but the principle was the same.
“What about your parents, Mo?” asked Kent curiously. “You’ve never mentioned them. What are they like?”
Mo let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. He could tell Kent. He felt the need to be open with him about this, as close as they were. “My father was never around much. He was one of the lead architects employed by the Portic royal family, leaving my mother to raise me most of the time. And Mother… she was awful. So fucking horrible to me. She hated the fact I was interested in humans.”
“Really?” Kent’s eyes widened. “I remember you said merfolk think of humans as dangerous, but still…”
“It was much worse than simply disliking humans. She punished me for showing interest toward them at all,” he said, pain in his voice. There was more to it than that, but he couldn’t tell Kent. ‘You are a siren. I’ve been supposedly blessed with a siren for a son, but sirens are not meant to enjoy humans. You’re meant to eradicate them!’ “You see these scars all over me?” He touched his face, his biceps, and chest. “It wasn’t from me being reckless or anything. No, she gave them to me. I had scavenged a human painting, but… she found it. Abused me for it. She dug her claws into me, made me bleed…”
Mo raised his hand and extended his claws. Kent gasped, almost terrified, and then Mo realized—he’d never shown his claws to him before. He quickly retracted them, curling his hand back in a fist.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to frighten you?—”
“Oh, Mo, no, it’s fine. I’m sorry that had happened to you.” He grabbed Mo’s hand, pulling it down to rest gently on his thigh. The motion made Mo’s heart flutter. “She’s not around anymore though, is she? Could she still hurt you?”
Mo shook his head, looking down at their shared grasp. “No. This all happened quite a long time ago, back when I was only thirteen years old. Then shortly after… my father found out. And he murdered her.”
“He—what? Oh, God…” Kent put his free hand to his mouth.
“They were arguing, yelling at each other so fiercely. I’d witnessed them arguing before, many a time, but nothing as intensely as that . Next thing I knew, Father extended his claws, and then—struck his hand right into Mother’s chest. I stayed back, hidden from them; Father never noticed I was there. He must’ve thought I was sleeping.”
Kent squeezed Mo’s hand. It helped calm him as he recollected the events. He went on, the orange sun setting to their right.
“Father then took her body out of the grotto, and I followed, still unnoticed. We lived on the outskirts of the city, away from the crowds, so no one was the wiser. Further and further he swam out with her, and I did my best to trail them while hidden in the shadows. I was so frightened of what was happening, but curiosity got the best of me, even though he was traveling to waters I didn’t recognize. And then—” He closed his eyes, visualizing it. “He swam straight into a shark’s den. The bloody body of my mother was irresistible to them. They devoured her, and then my father as well. All the while I watched, hidden from everything behind a rock.”
“Oh dear God, that must have been terrifying…” Kent’s face twisted in despair, still holding tight onto Mo’s hand. “You weren’t hurt by the sharks, were you?”
“No, thankfully. They were too occupied with my mother and father. Once they had them, I swam away as fast as I could and went into Portica, alerting whoever I saw.”
“What happened?”
Mo sighed. “Since I was so young, without any other family to look after me, I was taken into custody by the royal family until I became of age. It was quite the change, a great change actually, how well I was treated by them. Instead of constantly hearing the terrible things my mother would spout at me, I was treated with respect. It was strange—I was glad she was dead.”
He stopped for a moment, giving himself pause after those last words he spoke. Did I say too much? Would Kent—the lovable, sweet Kent—think that’s aberrant?
Kent shook his head, giving a comforting smile. It instantly melted Mo’s doubts in one swift manner. “That’s not strange at all. You were happy to finally be free. No one should be treated that way, especially by their own mother. I’m so sorry.”
Mo’s heart raced as he couldn’t help but smile back. He left a bit of the story out at the end—how the royal family valued his place in merfolk society as a siren, granting him residence in the castle as long as he wished. But as much as Mo appreciated their hospitality, he still wanted his own space, his human objects and artwork, and chose to live on his own once he reached adulthood.
“Thank you so much, Kent. You don’t know how much your kindness means to me,” he said fondly. He’d never told the story of his parents to a human before. Not just any human—the human who he cared for the most.
“You’re very welcome, Mo. I’m glad you’re safe and living comfortably now.” He grinned.
“May I ask you the same? About your parents? You mentioned your father to me before, but… I’m curious; what were you having disagreements about?”
That sweet grin faded, expression turning darker. “Oh, yes. Well…” —he squeezed Mo’s hand again— “my mother died of an illness ten years ago, and my father hasn’t remarried. I loved her, he loved her—everyone did. But even though it was heartbreaking, our family had to move on. Onto the next generation, I mean. And that meant me. ”
Mo nodded, rubbing his thumb over Kent’s hand. The sun had now set, stars sparkling in the moonlit sky, and Kent’s face was lit by the sea crystal hanging over Mo’s chest.
“My father is an earl, someone of nobility, like I mentioned before. Once he passes on, I’ll inherit his title. Same for me, when it’s my time, I’m to pass the title to my future son. This wouldn’t be much of a problem were I to have a son, but… as you know, I’ve no wife, I’ve no children. I have no one to pass the earldom to, and if it stays that way, the title, and the Wilson family name, will be no more after me.”
While Mo never had to think about inheritance before with his own family, he certainly understood it. It was a popular topic within members of the royal family: who they would marry, who they would forge alliances with, who would succeed them. It all seemed so frivolous to him—but still, it pained him to hear Kent had to worry about the same issues, being in the midst of it. If it distressed Kent, it distressed him, too. “I see… And… this is something your father is telling you about? That you disagree with?”
“Well, there’s more to it than that,” continued Kent. “It’s not that I’m averse to marrying; if anything, I’d adore having a lover. And I did have one—about a year ago, there was a woman who I was betrothed to. I thought my life was set: we’d be wed, have children, and be happy as clams in the mud at high tide. I loved her, and I thought she loved me too… But no, that woman, Diana, she ruined me. She fucking left me for someone else, and I was heartbroken.”
There was so much anguish in Kent’s voice relaying the harsh story. So much pain he must’ve been holding this entire time, over the past year, he said. Mo had never had his heart broken before, but he could imagine how much it must hurt. “Oh Kent, I’m so sorry…”
The corners of Kent’s mouth ticked up slightly. “Thank you, Mo. But still, with my father…”
“Yes, him.”
“So, after Diana left me, I couldn’t move on. I mean, how could someone move on after that? I had no interest in pursuing anyone else, finding another lady to marry. And I’ve felt that this whole past year… I either haven’t felt ready, or no one else has come that fills my heart in the way she had. But my father has been pressuring me to find someone new, anyway. Either fall in love again, or else he will pick a lady himself for me to marry. ‘Love has little to do with marriage,’ he’d say. I hate it—I wish he would stop…”
Kent’s voice was shaking, and it hurt Mo’s heart so. It tugged and clenched in his chest, making him hold Kent’s hand tighter. “You can’t simply force yourself to fall in love. When it happens, it happens.”
“That’s what I tried to tell him, but he doesn’t care. ‘People enter arranged marriages all the time,’ he said. But that’s not what I want. This past week, I had to deal with him inviting this lady for dinner that I’d recently met, even when I told him no. But he’s trying to set us up, even when I have no interest in her. I just want to live my own life, do what I want to do, how I see fit…”
Mo felt a pull, something he’d never felt before, and placed his free hand on Kent’s cheek. Moonlight shone bright on his beautiful face. “Oh, Kent…”
And, to his surprise, Kent leant into his touch. “But you, Mo, you help me escape all that. Meeting you has been the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to me. A merman, really? I’ve never—ever—seen someone so amazing. None of that nonsense matters when I’m here with you…”
Mo couldn’t stop himself if he tried, with what he did next. He veered forward, closed his eyes, and gently pressed his lips onto Kent’s.
His heart drummed madly, minnows swam frantically in his chest, and his head felt incredibly light. Each beat of his heart was a beat in time with his human’s, and—Kent didn’t pull away. Mo curled his fingers on Kent’s cheek, twirling around Kent’s soft locks. The moment was calm. The moment was still. The moment felt right.
After another beat, Mo pulled away, yet kept his hands in place. He gazed into Kent’s eyes: one brown, one white, looking up at him through his long lashes, and oh, so absolutely beautiful.
“Mo…”
This time, Kent moved forward. He kissed Mo, bringing their lips together again. Mo’s heart soared, a joy he’d never felt before in his life, from only a kiss. It felt so intimate, a closeness he’d never before experienced with anyone —human or merfolk. What was this feeling? It was so wonderful, he wanted more of it—more of Kent.
They pulled away again, yet never taking their eyes off each other.
“Kent…” Mo swallowed, “While I don’t know how to solve your problems, I do hope I can still help, however it may be.”
“Mo,” he breathed out. He looked down, then back up. And then—he smiled. “I always appreciate everything you do. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, my dear Kent.” He smiled back.
Though, he could tell Kent was hesitating, looking to the side, avoiding the inevitable. It was getting much darker now, the sun long gone, the only light source coming from his glowing sea crystal necklace and the moon above, and the human would leave for his home. He couldn’t keep him out here with him forever, as much as he desperately wanted to.
“How soon will you be back?” prompted Mo, since it seemed Kent was going to stay silent otherwise. He finally pulled his hand away from his face, down to his lap.
Kent gave him eye contact. “I told my sister I’d go with her to an event tomorrow, but I promise, I’ll try my best to meet you here the next day.”
Mo grinned at that. “We meet every other day or so anyway, so that’s perfectly fine.”
“Oh, um… yes, yes, of course!” Kent’s face was flushed crimson, his awkward smile so adorable.
“I hope you’ll have a good time with your sister.”
“W-well, Father won’t be there, so I shall manage.”
“That’s great to hear.” He let go of Kent’s hand, moving it instead to pet his shoulder. “I will be waiting for your return.”
Kent bit his lip, still smiling that sheepish smile. “And—I promise I will be back.” He leant forward, pulling Mo in a tender embrace. His warm breath against Mo’s neck kept the minnows constantly fluttering around his heart, and he returned the hug, patting his hands over the cloth on Kent’s back.
“I shall see you soon,” he meant as a promise as well.