3. Chapter 3
Chapter three
LYRIELLE
The ship dipped and bobbed as the men stared down at me.
“She’s a mermaid, she has to be,” one whispered.
“She’s a beauty. A gift from the sea gods?” another hissed.
I curled in on myself, trying to hide, to be small.
Then a pair of bare feet landed on the deck. “Give her some room, men. She’s had enough fright for a lifetime, I’m sure.”
They shuffled back, immediately deferring to his authority. A prince, indeed. I looked up at him as he stood there, dripping wet, his blue trousers and loose white shirt clinging to his body.
“Maybe she’ll sing for us,” said an old man with a weathered face.
My muscles tensed, terrified that they somehow knew of my gift and would insist on using it.
But then—I glanced down at my cut hair, which barely brushed my elbow—I didn’t have my gift anymore. I blinked heavily as that fact sank in.
A man with a neat beard and dignified bearing shook his head. “She’s got legs, lads. She’s not a mermaid.”
My eyes darted to my legs, hoping they were not too exposed. Thankfully, the hem of my dress clung just below my knees. Not quite respectable, but considering I’d been fished from the sea, I wasn’t going to quibble over the modesty of my calves.
“But her hair!” the old sailor protested. “I’ve never seen such a thing.”
“Miss,” the prince said, ignoring the comments of the crowd of men and crouching in front of me. His dark, dripping hair clung to his forehead and his clothing was finer than the other sailors. “Miss, are you all right?” His brow furrowed in grim concern.
“I…I don’t know.” My voice shook. All of me shook.
“I’m sorry about your hair, but there really was no other option.”
I nodded mutely. Yes, I’d planned to cut my hair once I got away from my tower, but the actual loss of my hair was more than a little frightening.
However, on the heels of that feeling, a huge, coursing surge of joy washed through me.
Looking down at my remaining hair, seeing the choppy, uneven cuts, was such a…
relief. Without my hair, I no longer had the ability to heal, and without that ability, I wouldn’t be obligated to help everyone around me.
I wouldn’t be sapped of my energy day in and day out.
It was what I’d longed for, the ability to decide what I wanted, what I needed.
I would have the opportunity—finally—to have some say in the course of my life.
I’d be able to move—unencumbered by my hair.
Startled tears rushed down my cheeks as I breathed freely in a way that had been impossible for too many years.
The man’s eyes traced my face, concern etching the corners of his eyes. “Are you hurt, miss?”
I gave a tiny shake of my head. “No, sir. It doesn’t hurt at all.”
“Then why are you crying, little mermaid?”
The silly nickname made me chuckle just a bit. “Um…relief? I think?”
He studied me for a moment and then nodded. “I suppose that’s as good as can be expected. I don’t know how you could have lived your life with the burden of all that hair weighing you down.”
“It was a challenge,” I whispered, the words completely inadequate.
“How did you end up out here?” he asked.
His question brought back all my confusion, and I searched for any sort of logical answer I could give. “I don’t know.”
He paused and narrowed his eyes at me, almost suspicious. “You don’t know?”
My eyes swept my surroundings once more, but beyond the ship’s deck, I could only see the dark night and hear the splash of water. “I…I shouldn’t be here. It shouldn’t be possible for me to be here.”
He frowned but didn’t respond. Instead he focused again on my hair, reaching out to gather it all at the nape of my neck.
I stiffened. His closeness, his gruff kindness, the feel of his fingers brushing my neck, this whole situation was too much, and my silent tears increased. “What are you doing?”
He gentled his stoic expression, curving his mouth in what I supposed was meant to be an encouraging smile.
“I just need to be certain I didn’t cut your shoulders or back while I was cutting your hair.
” He lifted my wet hair and inspected my neck, back, and shoulders, then allowed my hair to flop back into place.
He stood and reached out both hands. “Come along. You need to get warm.”
I stared at those hands. For the last ten years, I’d only ever been touched by my aunt.
It was such a strange thing to have this stranger reaching out to me, offering help and even comfort.
I didn’t know if I could trust it, but I longed to, so I put my hands in his.
When he pulled me to my feet, I became dizzy.
He held tight to my hands while I steadied myself. “It will take a while to get your sea legs.”
I studied the ship, with all its wood and rigging, watching as it swayed not quite with the waves, but in contrast to them.
I’d only ever seen depictions of ships in books that Gregor had snuck to me.
How strange and marvelous to be on one myself.
“It’s not the ship.” I looked back at the sea, where my hair had all disappeared.
“It’s strange to stand without my hair pulling on me.
My neck feels unstable.” I let out a breathy laugh, then more tears leaked from my eyes.
“You are overcome.” He released my hands and picked up a vest and coat that had been discarded on the deck, then carefully maneuvered to my side so he could put a firm arm around my waist. “Harlan, find her a place to rest.”
“Where, Highness?” the dignified man with the neat beard asked in low tones. “Among the crew?”
The prince let out a grumbling sigh. “I suppose that won’t work.”
“Pardon,” Harlan said, “but the only private space is—”
“Yes, I know. Thank you, Harlan.” He tugged me through the crowd of men. “Come, miss.”
A nod was the best I could do as the feeling of his warm hand shot through me.
“And all of you, get back to work,” he shouted at the milling crew.
I looked back over my shoulders at the men, the ship, and the sea.
Was this all a dream? A hallucination? Perhaps it was a strange afterlife, but I didn’t think so.
The water dripping from my clothing, the chill of the wind against my wet skin, the gentle pressure of this man’s arm around my waist—it all felt too real to be imagined.
I grabbed onto the hand that rested on my waist, my throat tight with emotion as the simple comfort of human interaction washed over me.
Auntie’s hugs and touches of affection had always felt cheap, or disingenuous, and sometimes even dangerous.
But this man, who knew me not at all, simply seemed to care, and that brought even more tears to my eyes.
Despite the insanity of the situation, despite the men staring at me with awe, and despite the confusion of not knowing how I came to be on the water, I was happy to be here.
The prince guided me toward the back of the ship, to a door that was nestled between two sets of stairs leading up to a higher portion of the deck, which I couldn’t remember the name of because I’d had to return the ship book to Gregor before I could adequately study it.
He opened the door, and my brow jumped as I took in the opulence of the small room. Silk drapery and fancy carved wood adorned the space. A bed occupied one corner, a desk in another. A trunk sat to my right.
“What’s this?” I asked, fascinated by the difference in this space compared to the main deck.
The prince cleared his throat. “It’s the captain’s quarters.”
I turned to look at him, my head seeming to move too fast. “Are you the captain?”
“Yes.”
“Are you also a prince?” I was curious due to having no experience with royalty since the royal family of Branfrie had been ousted by the High Court more than three generations ago, after magic had manifested in our land.
The captain prince was slower to answer this time. “Yes.” He guided me to a chair, and after I’d sat, he gave me a very fine bow.
No one had ever bowed to me before.
“I am Prince Tavric of Islewyn.”
“Hello.” That probably wasn’t the right thing to say.
He was a prince, so maybe I should have said something more formal, but I was wet and getting colder by the minute.
Also, I’d never heard of Islewyn. Some of Gregor’s books had spoken of kingdoms outside the shroud, but Islewyn hadn’t been one of them.
Prince Tavric grabbed a coverlet from the bed and wrapped it around me. Then he pulled a cloth from a cabinet and placed it in my hands. “For your hair.”
“Thank you.” I did my best to squeeze my hair with the cloth, fascinated by the way my short hair moved. I stared at the blunt and unevenly cut ends hanging to my waist.
“I’m sorry about your hair,” he said, using another cloth to scrub the water from his own hair.
His brow seemed to be perpetually furrowed, though I wouldn’t call his expression angry. Just…pensive. Perhaps moody, though I was smart enough to know I shouldn’t say that to him. “Don’t be. This is better. Different, but better.”
I looked to the door of his cabin, which had been left open.
Several curious sailors lingered just outside.
I thought perhaps the open door was supposed to be reassuring, but it wasn’t.
The prince was the only one who looked at me without either awe or suspicion.
At least half of the crew seemed to believe I was a mermaid who’d miraculously procured legs.
“Your name?” the prince asked.
I returned my attention to him, noting for the first time that I liked his face. “Lyrielle.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lyrielle. And where are you from?”
Should I tell him? I’d escaped and didn’t want to return, but now that my hair and my gift of healing were gone, perhaps going home would not be so terrible.
As fear and discomfort surged within me, I immediately dismissed that idea, however.
I didn’t want to return. Yet, no lie came to mind.
I had to say something, but I knew very little about any other kingdom or land, and lying was not in my nature.
“From Eldmere,” I confessed.