Page 60 of Bright Soul

“Madigan and Hana do seem to be in a lot of them,” I said.

He hummed, nuzzling into my hair. I stifled a giggle at the sensation.

“Well, you might as well tell me why this one was different from all the rest,” he murmured.

I told him of Willow’s potential change in status as a mer princess, distracted quickly when he took the opportunity to pepper my earlobe on down to my jaw with playful nips and brushes of his cheek against mine. Hopefully this meant he wasn’t angry at me anymore for yesterday’s disagreement.

“I am not overly surprised,” he rumbled close to my ear. There was no hiding my shiver, and I felt him smile. “Her mer side is powerful enough. Hybrid or no, it was impressive that she nearly drowned several people upon unlocking that side of herself.”

“Sure, but it’s made her more afraid of what she can do. I hope Zander can teach her some control,” I sighed. “In the meantime, you were in a different meeting and never told me the outcome.”

“Which one was that?”

“You spoke with Geo and Ben privately,” I prompted.

“Oh. I think you will be pleased, bright soul.”

“But, like, what did you all say?” I asked. “Did you get Geo to agree—”

He patted my hip. “Be right back.”

His solid form turned to shadow, and he set me to sit upright rather than roll into the space he left behind. I sighed and rested my head back, taking my own advice and resting for the day ahead. Now that Braza had pointed it out, I recognized that he was going out of his way to change the subject.

Phaeron didn’t take long to reform. His shadows tickled my face again before becoming firm fingers, tugging my hair to fall over the back of the couch. I sat up and glanced over my shoulder, seeing he’d retrieved a comb and a brush and something else coiled in his tail.

“Don’t worry. They’re yours,” he said. He started brushing out my hair, gently teasing out the knots.

I flushed. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“Are Braza’s memories still fading?” he asked in return. “You are my mate. It’s my joy to care for your needs.”

He brushed on, humming a merry but unfamiliar tune. When I tried to look back at him, he pressed his fingertips to my temples and steered my head to the angle he wanted. I tried to focus on what I remembered of Braza’s life, some of it slipping through my fingers like water. “You used to wear dark blue on your face and horns.”

“A couple lifetimes ago, yes.”

“If you want to teach me the symbols…I could try drawing them on your horns,” I offered.

“Soon, bright soul.” He stooped to kiss my temple. “I am the definition of ‘at war’ right now and should not wear any adornments.”

“But when Myuna is dead…”

He breathed a wistful sigh. “If you are comfortable observing this part of my culture, I would love to be marked as a mated male once more.”

“Of course,” I breathed, sensing this meant a lot more to him than he was willing to put into words.

I barely felt the plastic edge of the comb as he divided my hair into sections. “Though I suppose you would have to source gold stain for the task. But maybe I’m overthinking it. I’m not sure it will matter as much as it used to.”

“Gold is for the king?” I guessed.

“First prince,” he answered. “Paradoxically, my parents were able to wear whatever color they desired. And yet every day, they had servants paint white upon themselves.”

“Wait—”

“Hold still,” he chuckled. I let him adjust my head and start braiding my hair.

“But you should be the king,” I said. I noticed an extra tickle on my scalp from his shadows moving with his fingers and had the feeling he was about to tie my hair into a complicated style.

“And yet I have no intentions of ever being a king. The treaty that joined the tribes of my people was poisoned by Myuna’s influence. I want nothing to do with it. Besides…the world has moved on while I was in stasis, and my people have too. Thereisno throne to take.” He almost sounded happy about it, so I simply shrugged.

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