Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Once again, Ursula's hand rested lightly on Prince Eric's arm. Once again, she found herself enjoying the solid warmth of him beneath her fingers. He insisted on offering his support, as if she were dainty, as if she needed it.
She didn’t. But she didn’t mind. Because he felt good.
He was so solid, so strong. The muscle beneath his shirt shifted with every step. And gods, he smelled better than any man had a right to—salt and leather and sun-warmed. The scent teased her with every breath, urging her to stick out her tongue and lick.
He was so nice to look at, too. Broad shoulders, sharp jaw, that easy, confident smile set within the fertile brown of his features. She had known men who carried power, but none who wore it so effortlessly as did her prince.
Her prince? Yes, her prince. She might keep him. After she took back her crown, after she reclaimed what was rightfully hers, maybe she’d return for him. He’d be worth coming to shore for. Worth tangling her fin with.
The church loomed ahead, its stone walls weathered by salt and time. The great wooden doors stood open in welcome to all from land, sky, and sea. The scent of wax, damp stone, and distant incense drifted from within, mixing with the briny sea breeze that wound through the marketplace.
Ursula had never been inside a human place of worship. She had no use for their gods or their rituals. But power? Power was found in spoken vows, in written alliances, in the weight of words binding two people together. If Prince Eric wanted to give her that power, she would take it.
"Not sure why we're even bothering with an alliance,” a passerby scoffed, loud enough for half the marketplace to hear. "Nothing good ever came from the sea, especially not from that witch."
That witch? There were plenty of witches in Evermore. The passerby could've been talking about the Snow Queen, who was a witch.
"I reckon it’s the sea witch is the reason for ships sinking. She called the kraken all them years ago."
"I hear she's as ugly as an octopus, with tentacles."
Heat flared through Ursula like a spark igniting dry oil. Anger flashed hot in her veins. Her jaw tensed, ready to let out her song. She'd summon the tide, call the kraken onto dry land to drown that fool where he stood. The murmur of agreement from a few others only deepened her fury.
Eric must have felt the shift in her posture because he glanced down, his eyes narrowing at the tension in her shoulders. "The sea witch? That’s your aunt?"
"Yes." The lie felt fuzzy on Ursula's tongue. So she gave him a truth. "She's not an octopus. She's a siren."
"Like you?"
Ariel was nothing like her. The child had no conception of how to use her powers. Because there had been no one to teach her after they kicked Ursula out of the kingdom.
"You care for her?" Eric continued.
"She saved me as a child. Though I didn't deserve it."
"Don't say that."
"It's true. I was an unholy brat back then."
"You grew up to be my hero. And now you'll be my bride. You wouldn't be here without her. If ever I were to come face to face with her, I would offer her my gratitude."
"You would be the only man to do so. My father—my grandfather cast her out unjustly.”
“Then we will extend an olive branch for her in our kingdom,” he said simply.
Ursula blinked. “What?”
"She’s family, isn’t she?" He squeezed her fingers lightly. "If she saved your life by calling for help against humans who meant you harm, I would consider her my ally."
It was a small thing, those words. The hand gesture. A simple acceptance, a quiet promise. But it stole the breath from Ursula's lungs.
She had spent her life knowing betrayal, knowing what it was to be silenced, to be cast aside, to be unworthy. This na?ve prince with his easy trust and acceptance was lucky she was going to be here to protect him. He'd given her the shirt off his back, for Poseidon's sake.
“Are you worried?” she asked.
Eric gave a lopsided smile as he looked down at her. “Worried?”
“About my siren song.” Ursula tilted her chin, watching his reaction carefully. “Do you think I’ll use it against you?”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Instead, he smiled, slow and knowing, as if the idea genuinely amused him. “I doubt it would have any effect on me.”
Oh? So he was one of those. One of those men who thought he was different, that he could turn a woman's eye from her husband—or her girlfriend. One of those men who thought the rules didn't apply to him.
“I fell under your spell when you saved me. When you breathed life back into me. I can't think of anything you could ask of me that I wouldn't give to you.”
Ursula should have felt satisfaction at that. Should have rejoiced in his gratitude, in his growing devotion. But he wasn’t done.
“I’m offering you my hand in marriage. I only hope one day to win your heart.”
The world around her blurred. The sounds of the marketplace dulled to a distant hum. The voices of the crowd that had irritated her were forgotten. For the first time in her life, Ursula was tongue-tied. She had no words, no clever retort, no sly quip. Nothing at all.
She had stolen a thousand voices in her time. Had taken the wills of men and women alike. But this man had just unmoored her.
She looked away from the prince. A ship rocked gently in the harbor, its sails catching the wind too perfectly, its hull just a little too polished for a vessel claiming to be a humble merchant ship. But it wasn’t the ship itself that made her pulse quicken. It was the flag.
The emblem stitched into the fabric looked innocuous enough to an untrained eye, the symbol of a distant trade guild. Ursula knew better. It was a false flag. A deception meant to mask allegiance, to slip past watchful eyes unnoticed.
A ship like that wasn’t here for trade. It was here to spy, to steal, to prepare for something far more dangerous. She would know. She'd made deals with other kingdoms, sold intel, and played the double agent.
She almost pointed it out to Eric.
Almost.
The words died before they could leave her lips.
She couldn’t afford to be too knowledgeable, too sharp, too aware.
Ariel wasn’t supposed to know the markings of rival kingdoms, the tactics of war, the flags of deception.
So instead, she tilted her head, forcing curiosity into her voice, and let herself become Ariel again.
“Oh,” she mused, eyes wide with feigned innocence, “that’s such a lovely symbol.”
Eric followed her gaze, brows creasing into a flat line as he studied the flag.
“The red reminds me of corals in the reef. I think I saw something like it before,” she continued, keeping her tone light, airy, offhanded. “Somewhere near the”—she hesitated as if struggling to remember, then smiled like she’d just placed it—“the capital of Ravenhold, wasn’t it?”
She felt his posture shift beside her. Eric’s attention lingered on the ship for just a second longer than it should have, his lips pressing together in thought. Then he smiled at her. Easy. Carefree. As though waving it off, dismissing it as a meaningless observation.
His hand slid from hers, fingers curling subtly into a fist at his side. "Do you mind if we take a slight delay? I just want to check on a shipment."
"Of course, Your Highness."
"Eric. It's always Eric to you, Ariel."