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Arick hid his grin. Ailsa had promised that Lady Quigley could always be counted on to oppose MacIsaac. “That His Highness is correct, and there are merfolk held prisoner in the lower dungeons.”

“Who granted you the right to speak?” Murray demanded.

“The tradition of allowing all invited guests to hold space,” Lady Quigley retorted.

“They’ll let just anyone have a say in how this country runs now,” Murray muttered.

“Yes, which is good for you; otherwise you would be silenced as well,” Lord Jarvis pointed out dryly.

Murray sunk down in his seat, continuing to mutter into his handkerchief, but it didn’t stop the continued arguing.

“You must release them, Da!” Thomas shouted, his impassioned plea heard by all.

Arick winced. Ailsa had repeatedly cautioned them not to address the king casually, but the noise and pressure were overwhelming for even him.

“You will address the king as such!” reprimanded Murray.

“This is why he is unfit to rule!” Another voice carried over the cacophony.

Arick risked a glance at Thomas’s face, noting the younger man’s clenched jaw, red cheeks, and trembling lip. Tears pooled in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Arick gave the slightest shake of his head and tilted his own chin higher. Thomas swallowed hard and copied his pose.

“Your Majesty.” Arick let his sailor training flow through his voice, the words booming around the enclosed space. The noise dimmed, and he pressed on. “Sire, what the prince has proposed is for the benefit of our nation, our city.”

Arguments rose again, but the king held up a hand, and for once the council obeyed, allowing Arick to continue. “If —if— the storms are caused by the merfolk in retaliation to the others being held captive, would it not stand to reason that letting them go would cause the storms to cease?”

MacIsaac stood, smoothing his sleeve. “Your Majesty, we all know dear little Prince Thomas and do enjoy seeing him partake in these council meetings. But, Your Majesty, matters of national security are hardly a discussion for the entire council, and a true prince would have known that.”

Silence rippled through the chambers, and red filled Arick’s vision for a half second. Howdarehe?

The king caught Arick’s eye and nodded toward the door right before giving the order to dismiss the council. Arick hurried to follow Thomas before anyone else could crowd him. The younger man turned, tripping over his feet in his haste. Arick gripped Thomas’s arm firmly and propelled him from the council chambers. He wouldn’t let the prince’s blurry vision cause him to stumble in front of these bigots. How could they still be so blind after twenty years of watching Thomas be the kindest, wisest, most caring person to ever walk the halls of the castle?

“Lord Arick,” MacIsaac called.

Arick nudged Thomas around the corner and turned to face the small man, using his bulk to block the hall. He shouldn’t have worried. MacIsaac didn’t even notice Thomas’s escape. “Where’s that young woman of yours? Left her to fend for herself at the pier again?”

Arick narrowed his eyes. “You seem awfully concerned about her. Do you know where she came from?”

“Of course not. You’re the one who brought a woman of unknown character into the castle, exposing the princess to who knows what.”

Arick recoiled. Did MacIsaac intend to insult everyone around him all in one day?

“You leave my sister out of this!”

Unbeknownst to Arick, Thomas had returned. His cousin trembled, his hands balled into fists as he glared at MacIsaac. Tears once again filled his eyes, though he held them at bay. “You…you are not a nice man,” Thomas managed to bite out.

MacIsaac looked affronted. “My role is to protect the crown, in whatever form that may take.” He shot Arick a gloating look. “Even if that is from those brought in to tarnish it.”

Thomas sputtered, and even Arick didn’t know how to respond.

“MacIsaac, your role is to represent the people before the crown, not to make my son cry,” the king’s voice rumbled over them. Thomas gulped loudly and fled down the other hall. Arick stared at his uncle, at a loss for what to do. As the king draped his mighty arm over the narrow shoulders of the councilman, Arick understood he was free to go, and swiftly made his exit.

But his stomach churned. Nothing had been resolved, and even more problems were raising their scaly heads.

Chapter fifteen

Thatnight,Sorchatrailedher hand in the cool water. The sea was impossibly calm, the waves whispering against the little boat as the stars reflected in the midnight waters. It was strange to be on the sea but not in it. She was used to seeing the water from below, or from just above the surface, her head peeking up from the depths. But now, she sat floating on it, with Arick looking at her like she was the moon.

Her throat caught, and heat rushed to her face. She had done nothing to deserve such a look, but oh, how her heart sang to see it. She gave him a tremulous smile, wishing not for the first time that she could understand him.