Page 47 of Secrets Among the Tides
My mind was actually racing. Had the Princess really said that to these mer? To reduce Prince Kai’s title of the Dragon Prince to something as little and as demeaning as a lizard? She reallywasa guppy. How could she not see kindness when it was staring her in the face?
“If I did call him that, it was in the past,” I said stiffly as I reached for my tea cup and brought it to my lips. “You will do well to remember, though, that Prince Kai is my betrothed and you will address him with the respect a Prince is owed.”
They were shocked into silence because none of them spoke for a long while after that. I took the time to dig into my tea and pastries. They were surprisingly good. So unlike the nasty food they’d given us at the anniversary dinner. These were much, much better.
Chatter eventually picked back up, though no one really directed any words at me, as if sensing my earlier hostility they moved on to simpler subjects that had nothing to do with the royals, the war, or anything of importance. All they could do was talk about who had the latest dresses and who was kissing who in secret.
I fought not to bring my elbow up to the table and rest it there. Bad table manners.
A servant eventually came to switch out the now empty pastry plate for a new one. Smiling, I reached for the empty plate and handed it to the merservant, who looked at me incredulously as she took it in her fingers. “Thank you,” I said as she sat the new one down.
“No need to thank a simple servant, O,” Jessinda cut in cruelly. She was watching me with cold eyes, and glaring at the servant, besides. “She probably can’t even read.”
The servant’s face flushed a bright shade of red, and my own heated right alongside hers. I’d worked at Tides’ Tavern for years as a waitress, cleaning up after mer and feeding them and never once had the freshwater mer treated me like these royalty treated their own.
“Whether or not she can read is irrelevant,” I ground out tightly, scraping my nails across the top of the table. “Saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ is common courtesy and politeness. Something none of you seem to comprehend.”
Jessinda’s eyes widened, as did Scarlet’s and Silviya’s. “What is your problem today, Odele?” Jessinda asked angrily. I knew this was going to be a shipwreck of epic proportions. The ice in her voice told me so.
“I don’t have a problem.”
“Something is so different about you. Thanking a servant? How beneath you.” She flicked her long hair behind her shoulder.
“I’m just doing what any decent mer should do. You don’t have to treat servants or anyone who isn’t a royal badly just to prove that you can, you know.”
They all blinked at me and then Jessinda laughed. “Oh, please, Odele. Do not come at us with this righteousness like you’re some type of angelfish. You treat everyone badly, more so than any of us at this table ever could. Stop pretending like you’re better just because you said ‘thank you’ once.”
My hands curled into fists. “I don’t treat anyone badly.”
She scoffed. “Oh, please. A few months ago you had the stable merboy whipped because he put the wrong saddle on your hippocampus. You are such a hypocrite.”
Because I couldn’t take the things they were saying, I shot up, scraping the chair against the polished quartz floor. My breathing had grown ragged and heavy. I wasn’t a monster. The Princess may have been one, but Iwasn’tand I hated the looks in their eyes. They were looking at me as if I was her. As if I was the Princess.
“Well at least I didn’t kiss Scarlet’s merfriend behind her back,” I called out, and I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth. I’d watched so many conch’s, had memorized nearly every word and secret the Princess had spoken, that I couldn’t help but blurt the words in the same cruel voice she’d used. If only to take the attention off of me. If only to get them to stop looking at me like I was a monster.
But by doing this, I became the one mer I swore I never wanted to be like.
I became the Princess.
Scarlet’s eyes had widened as she turned to glare accusingly at Jessinda. Jessinda’s face was as bright as coral and I had to take a stroke back. “I’m sorry,” I gasped quietly. But they weren’t paying attention to me. The three girls were yelling at each other.
I didn’t want to stay and watch this aftermath turn ugly. I dashed away, going as fast as my limping fin would allow me. It wasn’t until I was in front of the Princess’s bedroom doors, was I whipped around and staring into the angry gaze of Captain Saber.
He opened the door himself and practically shoved me in, closing it behind him. “What in the tides was that?” he demanded angrily. I didn’t blame him. I’d messed up. I’d ruined the image of the Princess that I was supposed to maintain. But I didn’t want to maintain an image. I didn’t even want tobeher.
“It’s not my fault,” I whispered weakly.
“Do youwantto blow your cover? Do youwantthe whole palace to find out you’re not the Princess? You had one job Maisie, and that was tobeher. And you can’t even do that.”
I exploded. It was too much, the pressure, the poison, the almost getting killed, those mer without a speck of remorse or empathy in their bodies… I couldn’t handle it. “I’m not the Princess!” I shouted. “I couldneverbe the Princess! And why would I want to be someone so spoiled and bratty?” My breathing was heavy as I went over to the coral shelves and lifted a glass statue and in one impulsive move, threw it across the room and watched it shatter. “Why would I want to be a mermaid who does nothing with her time but drink tea with daft cousins or doesn’t give a flip about anyone else in Thalassar but herself? No, I’m not the Princess, Captain Saber. And I’m glad of it. Because I’d never want to someone so weak, annoying andworthless—ah!”
Captain Saber was suddenly in front of me, his hands gripping tightly at my upper arms. The rage on his face was plain to see in the flaring of his nostrils, in the blazing of his eyes. He shook me and my head rattled. “Shut your mouth, bottom feeder!” he snapped. His face was so close to my own that I could feel the heat of his anger coming off of him in waves. “Don’t youeverspeak of Odele that way again or so help me—” He cut off abruptly and shoved me away.
I watched him as he seemed to try and physically compose himself, to rid himself of that explosive anger he’d displayed only a moment ago. He ran a hand through his hair, tried to steady his breathing. But his face was flushed and so were the tips of his ears.
I was too shocked to do anything but lower myself to the fin of the bed and press my hands into my lap. I stared at him as he paced from one end of the room to another, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.
Odele. He’d called her Odele. When he spoke to me of her, he was always so careful to use her title and speak of her respectfully. And when he did, he spoke of nothing but praise.
