Merrick sank back into the chair and gazed at her too-white sheets.
Nothing in life was ever that white. Things appeared white. Smelled white. But if he held them up in the light and gave them a hard look?
He’d see brown. Yellow. Beige.
Because despite the exterior his father wanted to paint for his perfect family, if Merrick truly looked? He’d see the truth.
Exposed to the light too long, and he’d see. Anyone would.
The dirt.
The muck.
The ugly.
Stains. Yeah, that was the right word.
Stains were all he would see.
Ten
Coral
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The king’s voice boomed through the hallway. He looked down at his youngest daughter.
With all the courage she could muster, Coral met his gaze. “I’m looking for the crown princess.”
“She’ll be along shortly.” Her father took her arm in a firm but painless grip. Though his touch was different from the way Duke had handled her, that didn’t make it welcome.
Coral didn’t dare try to escape her father’s grasp. She did, however, glance over her shoulder and speak up a second time. “Where is she? Where is my sister?”
King Jonah did not answer. Soon they entered the ballroom together. At the precise moment the light of the grand hall lit her father’s face, his stoic expression lifted into one of quiet amusement.
This was the merman the people knew.
Coral wished he was the same one who held her arm now.
The clock at the other end of the ballroom with its gears fashioned from ships’ wheels tick, tick, ticked in time with the band’s blue-hued tempo. The second hand, made of human bone, twitched with the little mermaid’s uncollected concerns. How much longer? A fathom? A bubbled breath?
When at last the band ceased and the maestro tapped his wand, Coral straightened. The crowd’s chatter faded to a low hum the color of mud. The maestro cleared his throat. “Presenting King Jonah . . . and, here she is, the princess Coral Atlantica!”
Urchins. She was trapped now. Coral glanced up at the lower tier to find Jordan and Duke already sitting in their chairs. Jordan caught her stare, then quickly looked away. When Coral sat, Jordan said nothing about the empty chair between them. Was that satisfaction lifting her sister’s cheeks?
Their father rose above them to the highest tier, charred crown of deadened coral atop his head, black trident held firmly in his grasp.
Coral’s stomach churned.
The crown princess was nowhere to be seen.
When the king tapped his trident, drawing the guests’ attention, Coral kept her eyes fixed on the entry arch. Any moment now her oldest sister would make an entrance.
“Mergents and maids,” the king began. “I welcome you, one and all, to the inception of my youngest daughter into what has become not only our great tradition but our purpose as the sentinels of the sea. We extend our deepest gratitude to all who have traveled from far and wide to join us for this momentous occasion.”
Coral’s anxiety was a thrashing hammerhead shark. But not because she was about to make her own debut performance. Those nerves had been replaced by a new sort of unease.
Where. Was. Her. Sister?
“Your crown princess would have loved to join us for the festivities, but I am afraid she has taken ill.” A pause. A cough. “I ask that you hold her in your hearts and thoughts as we continue without her.”
Wait. What? Coral twisted in her seat, squinted up at the king who’d said her oldest sister was on her way seconds before. When his gaze didn’t yield, Coral attempted to exchange glances with Jordan. Only Duke met her eyes. He winked, then grinned, his crooked teeth glinting.
Eww. Coral tore away her gaze. The merman was the scum of the sea. Why couldn’t Jordan see it?
“Now then,” their father continued. “Let me put you all at ease. Tonight calls for celebration, not sorrow.”
Coral’s pulse throbbed in her temples. The merfolk murmured. She glimpsed a few of them whisper behind cupped palms. At last she found her grandmother’s knowing gaze.
The corners of her mouth turned toward the sand, though the merwoman didn’t flinch.
If anyone knew something, her grandmother certainly did.
The sour feeling returned to Coral’s stomach. Something wasn’t right. It hadn’t been right for some time.
Coral narrowed her eyes at the king once more. Clenched the coarse arms of her chair. How could she celebrate when the crown princess needed her now more than ever?
Heartache, pure and green as sea grass, fell in a swell over Coral’s entire body. Her insides writhed. Muscles tensed.
The king raised his burly hands. “Join me in wishing my youngest daughter a happy birthday.” One hand swept toward Coral. Eye contact, rare and awkward, made its path between her and the merman who seldom looked her way.
She forced herself to hold his scrutiny.
“Coral.” His low voice soothed and terrified. “It is now time for you to rise with your sister to the surface. On this, your first eve as a true merwoman, you shall prove your worth as a member of this family.”
Bitterness coated her tongue. Since when did her worth depend on her voice?
“Coral.” Her father’s tone was firm and final. “Take your place.”
She sat tight. The next words Coral uttered released before she could hold them back. “I’ll wait for our sister.”
Jordan touched her arm. The gesture was so kind, so sisterly, so unlike her that Coral almost freed another tear. “Don’t test him. Father’s wrath is not something you want to provoke at any cost.”
The back of Coral’s neck tingled. She swallowed and her eyelids twitched once more. Coral eyed Jordan. Cost? What about the cost of abandoning their oldest sister in her time of need?
“I’ll wait for the crown princess,” she said again. If Coral didn’t stand for her, who would?
Jordan glanced at Father.
“Coral.” The king tapped his trident.
Jordan bowed her head.
“Rise. Now.”
Coral did as he commanded, but defiance flowed through her veins in full burning crimson now. He wanted a song, he’d get one. But not any tune he’d approved. She drew a breath and recalled the melody from her time at the surface three nights before.
The composition was human. If her father discovered, there was no telling how he’d react. But if no one would speak up for her sister, she would sing until everyone heard.
“As unforgiving as the stormy waves,
Your heart of stone digs watery graves.
She lives in fear while you are near.
Can’t you see what you’ve done here?
Your love could be what truly saves.”
Coral didn’t stop, not even when Jordan began, singing with all her might to drown her youngest sister’s song with her own. Jordan grabbed one arm and tugged. Coral fought to free herself, but Father gave her a warning glare and she relented.
Together, she and Jordan rose into the night.
At the surface, the waves were calmer than Coral had ever seen from her hiding place in the rocks. The sea was glass now, the ocean a reflection of the clear and starry-eyed sky above. Stars that appeared as if they might fall, they shone so close. She ripped her arm free, gasping. She wanted to scream at Jordan. To curse her for how she’d disregarded what was happening.