Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The corridors of the palace were long and winding, their gold-trimmed walls and flickering candlelight casting shifting shadows as Ursula padded toward her chambers.
The salt breeze crept in from the open terrace doors, filling the air.
But beneath it, beneath all of it was the lingering stench of court politics—power, greed, and pretense, woven into the very foundation of this place.
She was bone-weary, her muscles aching from sitting too stiffly for too long, smiling too much, speaking too little.
It had been a day of too many glances slid her way, too many suspicious whispers, too many smiles that held nothing but knives hidden behind teeth.
The men didn’t want to listen to her, the women didn't trust her, and the ones who did look upon her with openness were still calculating, scheming on how best to use her presence to their advantage.
Land courts, sea courts—it was all the same game. She had spent years clawing her way back to a seat at the table, only to find herself exhausted by sitting at the helm of the very thing she had fought to reclaim.
She should have relished this afternoon. The maneuvering, the mental cataloging of allies and enemies alike, the art of knowing exactly who would backstab whom and when.
She was better than them. Sharper. More ruthless. Today, for the first time, she questioned why she wanted back in at all.
The answer to that question should have been easy. She deserved it: the seat, the scepter, the crown, the trident. It had been stolen from her. Triton had taken everything, and she would not rest until she took it back.
And yet, as she reached her chambers, none of that mattered. Not now. Not when the only thing she wanted in this moment was to stretch her fin and curl up in her husband’s arms.
Her husband.
She hadn’t expected to feel anything about the word.
Hadn’t expected her heart to clench in her chest the way it did when she thought of Eric waiting for her, warm and welcoming, with hands that sought her out instinctively, lips that pressed against her skin like he was afraid she might disappear if he let go.
Soon, emissaries would arrive from Triton. They would expose her.
Soon, Eric would learn that it wasn’t Ariel who had saved him but the sea witch.
Soon the sea would whisper its secrets—that Ariel had unleashed her siren’s wrath upon Prince Phillip’s castle, that Eric’s most trusted ally had nearly drowned in a wave so massive it shattered stone.
Soon Eric would realize that his fleet had been plagued by pirates, not by coincidence but because of her.
And when that moment came—when everything unraveled and he saw the full scope of her deception—
She would have only one card left to play.
Her song.
Her voice could erase the fury from his eyes. It could soften his clenched jaw. It could wash away the betrayal that was sure to come.
She could make him forget. Could make him forgive. Could make him love her still.
That was tomorrow’s battle. Tonight, she just wanted one more moment of peace. One more night of pleasure. One more taste of the happiness she had no right to claim.
The scent of sea salt and warm water filled the chamber before Ursula even stepped inside.
The door creaked open, and she stilled in the entryway at the sight of Eric standing beside a large bath basin.
His sleeves were rolled up. He was pouring coarse grains of sea salt into the steaming water.
He looked up, caught sight of her, and smiled.
Not the polite smile of a king. Not the regal one he wore in court. It was the smile he gave only to her.
“What are you doing?”
Eric dusted his hands off and nodded toward the basin.
“I assumed you’d want to stretch your fin.
With everything going on, with tensions uncertain between your father and Phillip, with rumors of attacks—” He hesitated, his jaw clenching before he forced it to relax.
“I thought it best if you didn’t go out too far into the sea for now.
So…” He gestured toward the bath. “I brought the waters to you.”
Ursula stared at him, unable to process what she was feeling.
“I was also thinking that I should have a pool built for you here on the castle grounds. We can have sea water pumped in daily, so you never have to be too far from the sea.”
He was giving her the sea. She tried to summon a smirk, something teasing, something to brush away the unexpected warmth in her throat. “You’re trying to keep me from leaving.”
“I'm trying to keep you safe. I want you to have everything you need. But I’m not trying to hold you hostage, siren.” He reached for her, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering along her jaw. “This is your home now. I want it to feel like it.”
This man. The people, the palace, the crown, the war—damn it all. She only wanted him. She would lie, cheat, and steal to keep him. And if the world tried to take him from her—she would drown it.
Ursula stepped back. Her hands went to the lacings of her gown. She undid them with a slow, deliberate pull.
Eric’s hands tensed at his sides, as if resisting the urge to reach for her.
The silk slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet, leaving her bare under the dim candlelight.
His gaze dragged over her, darkening with heat, with the same raw, unguarded need she had seen in his eyes the night before.
She stepped into the water, sighing as the warmth enveloped her nudity. The salinity was perfectly balanced. Her legs tingled, prickling with energy, with magic, and then—with a shift, a ripple, a shimmer of scales—her fin unfurled beneath her.
Ursula stretched, arching into the pleasure of being back in her natural state, letting herself float for a moment, weightless, free. Then she reached a hand toward her husband.
“Join me.”