Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
A quarter of a moon passed as Mo was adjusting to human life. He didn’t officially take the position of Kent’s valet yet, as he needed time to learn what sorts of things a valet even did. But Kent helped him practice his duties, teaching Mo how to tie his cravat, button his coats, and shine his shoes. Mo was delighted to do it all. Being Kent’s personal assistant was the perfect excuse for him to be close to his beloved as oft as he could during the day, and honestly, it just felt good to serve him.
Apparently, one of a valet’s other usual duties was also to shave his employer’s face, but Kent mentioned he’d always done that himself. Kent took pride in knowing how to use a razor with ease, and he even helped Mo shave since he no longer had his claws. Kent didn’t keep his short beard for long and was soon back to being smooth-faced again, but he was still just as handsome. Beard or no beard, Kent would always be the most beautiful man in the world in Mo’s eyes.
Mo was assigned his own bedroom to have his own space if he needed, and as protocol for complying with human customs. As a guest of the house and a man himself, he couldn’t openly claim Kent’s bedroom as his own too, after all. But there was a slim door that connected Mo’s bedroom with Kent’s, for ease of access as his servant, so no one would know the better if Kent simply… kept it unlocked. And Mo just… happened to slip in. Every night. Mo never slept in his own bed, and crawled under the covers with Kent every time.
Walking was much easier now, no longer needing help for balance, and he was getting used to climbing up and down stairs. But despite that, pain still flared every now and then. It certainly was lessening as time went on, and he had no doubt that perhaps in another quarter moon the pain would go away completely, but it still being there at all limited what he felt capable of.
For instance, now that he and Kent had their own private space and Kent’s wonderful plush bed, Mo wanted more than ever to be intimate with him. Helping him dress and undress, caressing his body as they cuddled to sleep, kissing him fervently as they lay in bed—it all stoked a fire within his belly. But Mo was afraid to exert his new body in such a way when the pain was still there. Not just that, he was nervous due to his inexperience as a human. So until he felt completely comfortable, he would abstain from taking his own pleasure, but that didn’t mean he left Kent hanging. Oh no, he made sure to ravish Kent splendidly with his mouth, now easier and more wonderful than ever with his flatter teeth. Kent cried in ecstasy each time Mo swallowed down his delightful release.
One afternoon, they took a carriage out to Portsmouth for Mo to experience the city. He’d only seen it from the angle in the water by the docks, so being here on land with every other human was absolutely spectacular. Kent treated him to dinner at an eating house, and Mo was thrilled to find they sold squid tentacles there. Not raw squid like he was used to, no—human-cooked roasted squid. It only enhanced the flavor of his favorite food even more, so incredibly delicious, and Mo swore he’d never go back to eating it raw ever again. Kent laughed, cheeks flushed red, having to remind Mo to use his fork instead of just tearing at it with his bare hands.
Afterwards, they visited a place called a tavern, which Kent told him served rum and other forms of alcohol. Kent reassured him that he didn’t have to drink any if he didn’t wish to, especially with his fear of losing control of the Song, but the offer was there if he wanted to take it. Mo thought he’d be fine if he limited himself to only a couple drinks, as long as he stuck to one crucial rule: absolutely no singing.
Though, as they were served their drinks at the bar, Mo looked around the room at all the people scattered about. Some people were standing around, some were sitting at their own tables, and there —there was one particular group of three: a woman with bright orange hair tied in a knot behind her head, and a wide, burly man with hair of the exact same shade, long and wavy down his back?—
It couldn’t be!
Mo nudged Kent’s shoulder, getting him to turn around, and Kent’s jaw dropped in awe.
“Is that really them?” Kent asked in a whisper.
“I believe so.”
The two of them stood from their stools, drinks in hand, and they approached the three quietly. Now closer, Mo recognized the third member clearly, lanky and skinny, with long black hair spilling from his hat?—
“Seth! Allen! Wenta!” called Mo.
All three of them turned in their seats to his voice, and then erupted in excited gasps and endearing smiles. “Mo!” Wenta cheered. “Oh seas, you’re also a?—!”
“Careful what you say, Gwendolyn dear!” Seth touched her shoulder. Mo knew if she wasn’t stopped, she was going to say human . “Ahoy there, fellow friends!”
“Good evening to you all,” said Kent. “You must remember my friend Maurice Richards .”
“Of course,” said Allen, tipping his tricorn hat. “Please, have a seat with us.”
Mo sat in the unoccupied seat next to Wenta and Kent pulled up a chair from another table, them all now sitting in a circle at the rounded table. “So, young miss,” said Mo as convincing as he could, “what are you called now?”
“Gwendolyn Allen,” said Wenta, dressed in a flowy mantua of dark blue fabric, and she had a white fichu wrapped rather high around her neck. “After some great discussion, I’ve learnt that Thomas here really is my long-lost half-brother. We have different mothers, but share the same… eccentric father.”
“That’s amazing! I knew it must be true. I’m so glad you’ve found each other.”
“I don’t believe we ever would’ve if it weren’t for you, Mr Richards,” Wenta giggled.
“Where are you staying now?” asked Kent to the three. “I’m so curious about your story, how you got here.”
“We’re all currently staying with Charles Davies’s brother, actually,” said Allen. “His family owns a shipping company here in Portsmouth, and I’d remembered that he said if I was ever in a pinch, his house was my house. They’ve been providing well for us now in the meantime, but I’ve been looking for a job for my own sustainability, and so has Seth.”
“Preferably one on land,” said Seth, raising his pointer finger. “After what happened, I wish to stay away from the sea and pirates for a very, very long time.”
“Understandable,” Kent chuckled.
“As for how we got here,” continued Seth, “Gwendolyn and Allen swam us to shore, and we landed in Cornwall, as I suppose you probably did as well. But once on the beach, Gwendolyn and I had… a lot to talk about. Then with learning how she was connected to Allen—Thomas—here, it… how should I say this subtly?”
“There might be no way to,” Wenta teased.
“Perhaps not.” Seth chuckled. “But it made me realize just how connected we were. It sparked another sort of… connection in Allen as well. They shared familial bonds, and I gave my own friendly vows to Gwendolyn. It was euphoric! I’ve never seen anything like it, how she… transformed.”
“That is extraordinary! I’m so happy for you,” exclaimed Kent.
“The same sentiment from me.” Mo beamed. “Allen, what of your neck?” He lifted his hand in a vague pointing gesture, curious. “I remember that in the water, you’d…” Fuck , it was so hard to talk about it without actually saying the words aloud.
“Ah, well, something inside of me pulled at that part of my heritage when you sang, Mr Richards. I don’t quite know how to describe it. Then Gwendolyn’s transformation sparked something in me as well. These closed up, and now appear as nothing more than scars.” Allen pulled down his cravat to show the red lines on his neck, matching the ones on Mo’s.
“That’s fascinating.” Mo smiled. “I would love for us to meet again, perhaps at K— Lord Fareham’s residence, if he’d allow, and speak further on this.”
“Wait, I’ve an idea!” Wenta proclaimed, then spoke her next words in mer-tongue: “ No eavesdroppers will understand us if we talk like this. ”
“Oh seas, no, Gwendolyn!” Mo said back in English, laughing with his words. “If we talk like that, do you realize how silly we’d sound to others? People would think us crazy, clicking and chirping so much.” And such was true, as Kent, Allen, and Seth all gave them funny looks.
“I see what you mean… Ah, but I’ve another idea! Et si nous nous parlions en fran?ais, plut?t? ”
Mo gasped. “ Oui, voilà une idée brillante. ” He hadn’t heard spoken French in quite some time, but the merfolk’s communication magic still worked its wonders and he understood perfectly. French was at least a human language, so it wouldn’t sound strange to people’s ears, and it was unlikely that anyone else would understand them when everyone around spoke English.
“ Anyway ,” Wenta continued speaking in French, “becoming human myself has to be the strangest thing I’ve ever experienced. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s all I’ve ever wanted—despite it being painful during the first shift.”
“That’s something that you never told me about: the pain,” Mo said in French. “I thought I was dying at first, especially when I wasn’t expecting it.”
“I’m so sorry, such a thing slipped my mind!” She chuckled. “But either way, here we are. The pain should go away soon, and shifting between forms will become easier and easier. If you’re like me, I’ve already gotten quite used to walking.”
“Yes, I’ve gotten used to it, too. But about that—how does one become a mer again? Did your grandmother ever tell you?”
“She had, yes.” Wenta nodded, then turned her head to smile at Seth, who was simply staring at her in awe. Kent was doing the same to Mo, and it made his cheeks warm. Wenta addressed Mo, still speaking French, “To regain your tail, at least half of your body will need to be submerged in saltwater. Then, you think of life under the sea, and concentrate. Focus on what your tail felt like, and imagine swimming with it. It’ll hone the magic to take hold, and you’ll become a mer again. Personally, I’ve never tried it—I’ve only just recently become human the same time you did, you know—but I witnessed Grandmother transform years ago, so that should suffice.”
“All right. Yes, that’s good. What about becoming human again? Is it the same sort of sentiment?”
“Yes, but you’ll need to be completely out of the water, on something dry, whether it be land or a boat. Think of having legs, living in the human realm, and especially what will help expedite the magic process is to think of the human you connected with.” Her happy expression faded slightly, pouting her lips with a tinge of sadness. “Grandmother’s human lover had died whilst she was pregnant with my father. But she still thought of him any time she used the magic to become human. She was so young when it had happened, but she never remarried.”
Her words struck a melancholy chord in Mo, but it also told him something more. The magic that granted him legs was something that changed him forever—it was an ability that was always stored within him, something that shook his core, something that was hidden in his mer-blood that was locked away, and all he needed was the key. His key was Kent. Oh , he would do everything in his power to ensure that Kent and him would not meet the same bittersweet fate.
“I’m sorry about your grandmother,” said Mo, “but thank you for telling me.”
“I could understand that! Merci beaucoup ,” said Kent with excitement. “I know a few words of French. And I know you’re being sneaky because we’re in public, but you’ll need to tell me what you’ve been talking about later.”
“Certainly,” Mo said in English, finally.
“What I find so fascinating,” said Allen, “was that I understood it all. I’ve never taken a French lesson, but suddenly, I’m fluent in it. I could even understand your clicks.”
“That is fascinating,” said Mo, his eyes widening.
“Gwendolyn,” said Seth, “I cannot begin to describe how alluring your voice is when you speak French. Please, when we’re alone, you’ll need to tell me the filthiest things you can imagine whilst using that language. Oh, it’s already riling me up.”
“Seth, please!” She blushed, and swatted the air in front of him. “You are such a lecher. But I’ll humor you. When we’re alone .”
Mo couldn’t help but laugh at that, and Kent and Allen joined in as well. They kept talking for some time, Kent promised to the trio that he would write to them, and that they would keep in touch. Allen suggested that whenever The Sterling Mer landed in Portsmouth again, they should all get together in a reunion. It was a splendid idea, and Mo’s heart swelled with relief that they truly had found their friends again.