44. Bubbles
Wilder sat in the smaller, uncomfortable chair in his father’s private office. The entire way here, he had pondered the meaning. A summons at this time of day was alarming. Was it because of how he had treated Lyra during training?
Regrettably, it wasn’t kind, but it had worked. He was relieved it had worked and was proud of her. She didn’t seem perturbed by his anger; if anything, she understood him. Even with the stress of this meeting, he couldn’t get her out of his head.
But now sitting in front of his father, he was relieved their meeting was overseen by his mother, who had just met with Lyra. Her lingering scent greeted him when he walked into their chambers, and his heart thumped erratically in his chest.
She was everywhere, all the time. In the hallways, the library, the gardens, he couldn’t escape.
“Your mother has decided that she doesn’t like our current state of affairs,” Oberon muttered. He sat hunched over like a scolded child. While Aine stood beside him, with an arm draped over the back of his chair.
“We have only one son,” she snapped. “And I will not allow you to drive him away because you can’t regulate your own emotions.”
Wilder’s brow arched. He had never heard her speak to his father that way. Not even after their incident.
“Yes, yes,” Oberon waved her off. “With that being said, you are to escort Lyra on a tour of our kingdom.”
Wilder flicked his eyes from his father to his mother. He couldn’t decide who was doing this, but it reeked of his meddling mother.
“Is that an order?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
“It is,” Aine replied. “I watched her today—most carefully. She needs more motivation, like what you gave her. A bond between the two of you could encourage her to comply.”
“So you want to use me as what? A bargaining chip? Make the pitiful princess fall for the prince to get her to do your bidding? Good gods, Mother!”
It wasn’t like his mother to be calculating, especially since she hadn’t been on board with this plan from the beginning. Which meant this was his father’s doing.
He turned his head with a predator’s slowness to the male who had sired him. Wilder still couldn’t understand how his father could look at himself in the mirror. How all the greed and vanity weren’t as blatantly obvious to Oberon as they were to him.
“Yes and no,” Aine replied. “I think being around people who are strong-willed and kind will help her grow. She doesn’t know any different from the monsters she was raised by, which could be what is inhibiting her from wanting to help.
And I want her to finish your father’s bargain so we can be done with this. ”
And there it was. Oberon still hadn’t told Aine how he learned of Lyra’s power or the deal between the humans and the merfolk, and it was bothering his mother as much as it had him.
“I have already said that I will not partake in this bargain without knowing the terms.”
King Oberon leaned forward and straightened his shoulders. This wasn’t his father addressing him now, but the king.
“I have had it with your waywardness, boy. You will escort the princess.”
“Is that an order?”
“Yes,” Aine said.
Wilder slid his gaze from the king to his mother.
“Wilder, please. Even without knowing all the details, it is vital that we restore balance before the gods intervene.”
It was unusual that they hadn’t already. This bargain had been in place far too long to go without their notice. This must all be part of the conniving, grand scale that was fate.
“When do we leave?” Wilder asked, accepting defeat.
“Tomorrow,” Oberon ordered.
“Does she know?”
Aine shook her head. “You’ll need to tell her.”
“Oh, and another thing,” King Oberon added. “You will be taking no one with you. Just you and the princess. I’ve arranged for four of the noble houses to host you for two days each.”
“Lyra had trouble on the way here,” Wilder muttered. Flashes of him having to carry her across emerald fields and through the shadows of towering trees surfaced in his mind.
“You can take the carriage, of course,” Aine offered. “But I doubt she’ll enjoy being stuck in there alone.”
There was a light in his mother’s eyes when she said that.
A gleam of meddling he was all too familiar with. She couldn’t be trying to push them together?
Their kingdom would never accept a mermaid on the throne, and her kingdom—well, let’s just say the tithe was not even the top concern when it came to his still-beating heart.
“You should go tell her now. So she has time to prepare for the journey,” Aine said at last. Wilder groaned internally. Another journey, another order, another choice taken away. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this, could be the obedient prince.
He rose from his chair without so much as a farewell and stalked across the castle to her room. This was typical of his life, flitting from order to order, never having plans or goals of his own.
The door to Lyra’s room was shut, but he could hear movement inside. Two guards beside the door bowed as he approached, and he nodded in return, even to the dark-haired one he detested.
He couldn’t even remember the male’s name, but there was always a sort of smug arrogance about him.
Wilder rapped his knuckles against the door. There was no answer. He knocked louder and waited. When there was still no response, he tried the handle. It was unlocked.
He paused with the handle in his grip. It was most impolite to just barge in without an invitation, but she was their captive.
“Do you want us to go in first, Your Highness?” The blond guard asked. Wilder approved of that guard. He had always been genuine.
Wilder shook his head and pushed the door open. It was empty, but not still. The window was opened, and a breeze billowed the sheer curtains.
He froze, thinking the worst. That she had somehow snuck out the window and scaled the castle wall to escape. There was no way she could have done that. Her legs weren’t even strong enough to do a complete lap of lunges yet.
The water turned on and off in the bathing room, and he sighed, trudging over to the closed bathing room door and calling through it.
“Legs?”
There was no response. Only the turning off and on of the water.
“I know you can hear me.”
He leaned in close. Her scent was stronger here. The smell of her mingled with the bath oils Daisy added.
“If you don’t respond, I’m coming in. And I doubt you want that,” he said louder.
He waited a heartbeat, and when she still didn’t respond, he pushed into the room and stilled.
Lyra was in the bath, but she wasn’t ignoring him. She had half of her head underwater, specifically her ears. A delicate foot rested against the lip of the tub, and she used her big toe to turn the water off and on.
Her naked body was hidden by clumps of pink bubbles. Yet, he could see enough. She was glorious.
A goddess with moon-white skin and soft curves. With the faintest freckles scattered across her cheeks and nose. He wanted to memorize each and every one.
If he thought he couldn’t get her out of his mind before, it would never be possible now. He wanted to know every inch of her skin, wanted it so badly he might bite her in places so she would never forget where he had been.
Auburn hair wreathed her angelic face. Her sea-glass eyes were shut, and it was the light humming coming from her that had his mouth parting.
She was singing, but not with her power—just singing. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. No wonder so many were lost to the sea, trying to find the source of such a melody.
He wondered what he would sacrifice to keep such a treasure.
Everything.
He might sacrifice everything.
Lyra blinked, and it wasn’t horror that sparked in her eyes. No—it was something darker.
“Prince.” She pulled her head from the water so she could hear him. “Is it common to surprise ladies while they’re bathing?”
He thought back to a few days ago when he had shared a bath with three females. But that wasn’t what she meant.
“I fear that title is lost upon you, Legs.”
Lyra smirked and brought her legs out of the water. Her pale knees glistened in the light streaming through the window. A droplet of water raced down her thigh to places he would love to explore.
“I’m sure you would think that. But I’m not the one stumbling in late in the morning from pleasure houses.” She said the words as if they offended her, but her attention darted over to a very well-loved book on the stool next to the tub. The Knight in Shining Armor.
“You take offense to going to a pleasure house, but see nothing wrong with reading about activities that take place there?”
This line of questioning was a horrible idea. His arousal was clouding his judgment, and her body was becoming visible from the dissipating bubbles.
“Is that a rhetorical question?” she asked with an arched brow.
Wilder shook his head, trying to clear the visual of her skin on his.
“I came to tell you we leave for a tour—tomorrow morning. Begin preparing.”
Her happiness vanished like smoke in the wind.
“Are we staying for Ostara?”
“We should be back in time.”
“Oh,” she said. Her head drooped a bit, and she looked at the water. “That’s a relief.”
The sadness in her voice gripped him.
“It’s not on my order that we leave so soon. You can thank my father for that,” he replied.
Wilder wasn’t there when she looked up. He was already striding through her bedroom and addressing the guards.
“Call for Daisy and see to it they have everything she requests for the journey.”
The dark-haired one looked annoyed. “Everything, Your Highness?”
Wilder came close to lashing out and punching the male in his smug face for questioning him. “Everything.”