Page 69 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea
Chapter twenty
WhenSorchaawoke,theroom was dimly lit with soft sunlight. Heavy pink curtains were pulled across the windows, giving the cream walls a rose hue. Gentle strains of music filled the room, and Sorcha turned to see Ailsa in the corner, a tall wooden instrument cradled against her. Her fingers flew up and down the strings, plucking and strumming. The princess smiled and nodded at her, finishing the song before setting the instrument upright and bouncing from her chair.
“I’m so glad you’re awake! I’ll have a late lunch sent up right away, as I’m sure you’re starving, then we’ve got plenty of time to prepare for the ball.”
She signed as she spoke, her hands shaping the words almost faster than Sorcha could keep up. Still, she couldn’t help but smile at the younger woman’s exuberance. Thankfully, she was growing more accustomed to the humans’ language and could understand many of the words — namely “lunch,” which made her stomach growl in response.
“Yes…food, please,” she said, forming the words with care.
Ailsa’s eyes lit with wonder, and she clapped her hands. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re learning!” She crossed to the fireplace and pulled a heavy gold cord. In the distance, three gongs chimed. “I love having someone to sign with, but learning more will make things so much easier for you. And I can teach you a few words and phrases you may need this evening.”
Sorcha gave a small smile. There wasn’t much point in learning more. Not if she was going to turn to sea-foam before the next dawn. She sat up, pushing the blankets away.
Ailsa swept open the curtains, flooding the room with the afternoon sun. She gestured to a basin and pitcher on a carved white stand. “You can freshen up there, then I’ll show you some dresses while we wait for lunch to arrive.”
Sorcha stepped carefully across the soft carpet, inlaid with dainty pink and purple flowers on delicate green vines. The soles of her feet still hurt, but the cushioning of the carpet relieved some of it. She took her time splashing cool water on her face and scrubbing away the dried tears. Thoughts of the ball swirled in her head. She missed the freedom of dancing underwater, but it wouldn’t be the same on land, where gravity pulled at every step. And there would be so many more humans there to laugh at her if she got things wrong. But Arick would be there, and dancing would mean his arms wrapped around her… She bit her lip to hide the smile that threatened. Ailsa hummed as she moved between her wardrobe and the bed, carrying four different white linen dresses.
“I’ve got two for you and two for me. We can decide together which ones we love best!” Ailsa clasped her hands together and spun in a circle.
Sorcha cocked her head, frowning at the identical shapeless dresses. Did they even have sleeves? The only difference she could see was that two were much longer than the others. Judging by the length, the longer pair must be for her, as Ailsa was nearly a head shorter. After regarding them a moment longer, she turned to Ailsa, who was dragging two chairs closer to a small table.
“They’re…same?” she asked, unsure if she had the right words.
Ailsa looked up. “What? Oh! They’re covered — see?” She lifted the bottom of the white skirt to reveal a glimpse of a rich material the color of heather in bloom.
A knock on the door gave Sorcha a moment to hide her embarrassment over not realizing the white linens were just covers. The gentle maid from before entered when Ailsa opened the door, a covered tray balanced in her hands. She set it down on the little table and lifted the cloche.
Sorcha drifted toward the chairs, drawn by the warm, savory scent of stew that curled through the air like an invitation.
“I asked Cook to send something hearty,” Ailsa said as they dug in. “I never get much chance to eat at these parties, so I like to have a good meal beforehand so I don’t get faint.”
Sorcha didn’t care the reason — she hadn’t eaten since the day before, and the warmth of the stew removed the last of the chill that had lingered. The soft rolls were dripping with melted butter, and the cold milk soothed her parched throat.
The maid moved silently around the room as they ate, and when their bowls were empty, she lifted two of the dresses from the bed to show them. She had removed the coverings, and the long skirts draped across the floor.
One was the heather Ailsa had shown her before, the bodice woven with a subtle tartan of violet, gray, and green. The other gown echoed its shape, but in shades of sea-glass blue and kelp green. A row of pleats ran down one side of the skirt, sweeping back to reveal a contrasting underskirt. White lace trimmed the bodice and the cuffs of the bell-shaped sleeves.
“They’re beautiful,” Sorcha signed. She loved that the styles matched, so she knew she wouldn’t stand out. The dress would allow her to blend in with the other ladies. And the colors of the one meant for her reminded her of home.
“Oh, I’m so glad you like them! But don’t decide yet! I want you to see this next one first!”
“You had two dresses made for me? How?”
“Of course I did — I knew Arick would invite you to the ball, and I wanted to be sure you had something appropriate to wear. Elsbeth helped me with the measurements.”
Sorcha swallowed back tears. These two women she barely knew had accepted her and treated her with such kindness. She tucked her head to wipe her eyes.
Warm arms wrapped around her. “You’re one of us now.”
Sorcha returned the hug. “Thank you,” she whispered around the lump in her throat.
Ailsa returned to her seat and nodded to the maid, who lifted the other two dresses. One was a delight of pink and gold, but the second had Sorcha gasping, tears springing to her eyes.
The rich sapphire silk spilled to the floor in gentle waves, a myriad of tiny iridescent gems twinkling in the sun. The bodice draped off the shoulders, right where her scales had started, crisscrossed with threads in varying shades of blue. Two swathes of sheer, shimmering fabric cascaded from the sides, fanning out like the sea curling at her feet. It was a dress for a mermaid, an exact match of her scales and fin, and it made her heart break from longing for what she had lost.
“That one,” she whispered in her own language. “I want to wear that one.”
LordBeattie’swordshungheavily over Arick, clinging to him like damp wool as he made his way back to the central hall. The piercing call of bagpipes drifted in from the courtyard, a lively tune at odds with the churning in his mind. Inside, the noise had doubled since he’d passed through earlier. The hall now brimmed with velvet and brocade, polished boots and practiced laughter. Guests lined up for admittance to the ballroom, their voices rising with the clatter of heels and the rustle of silk.
