Page 47 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea
She hesitated before replying “yes.”
He rubbed her arm and guided her to a door in the side of the cliff. She hadn’t noticed before, but the castle wall extended down to the shore. They slipped inside, and Sorcha blinked against the sudden gloom. Thomas whispered something to the guard, then led her to a small comfortable room. A fire danced cheerily, filling the air with the rich scent of burning heath.
Thomas directed her to a chair and pushed a footstool over for her. He scampered around the room, moving tables and tugging another chair closer. The cooky leaned against her legs, lifting one paw to beg for pets. She obliged while waiting for Thomas to finish whatever it was he was doing.
He dropped a blanket in her lap. “Sorry,” he signed. “I should have brought that first.”
The door opened, and a young woman in a gray dress backed in, pushing the door open to not spill the tray of tea she carried. When she turned and saw Thomas, she blushed pink and gave a little bob. Thomas’s ears flushed red, and he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room until she’d set the tray down and left.
With deliberate movements, Thomas poured two cups of tea and added generous amounts of milk and sugar to both. He carried over one cup in both hands, mincing his steps to avoid spills. His hand jarred it as he set the cup down, sloshing tea into the saucer. He let out a deep sigh.
“Sorry. Too clumsy.”
Sorcha helped him mop it up and took the second cup from him so he didn’t have to lower it to the small table. She took a sip, expecting the same earthy flavors as the tea Elsbeth served. To her surprise, this one tasted of fruit and was much sweeter.
The ache in her limbs faded as the warmth from the tea and the fire soothed her, but the burning one in her chest lingered. She didn’t know whether it was caused by her separation from Arick or the deeper rift he’d torn between them.
After some time, she gave in and asked where he was, using slow hand motions to ensure Thomas understood her meaning.
He fidgeted, then shuffled his seat over so they could see each other’s hands easily. “He’s with the councilmen. They wanted to talk to him…about me.”
“You? Why?”
Thomas squirmed again, looking down at his hands. “They don’t think I’m a fit prince. They want Arick to have the crown.”
Sorcha frowned as she followed his hands. So many of their signs were the same, but some were different, so she wasn’t sure whether she understood correctly. “But you’re the king’s son.”
He nodded, rubbing a hand across his face. “I am. But I’m…different. I know I’m not as smart as Arick. He’d make a good king.”
“What do you want?”
Thomas looked surprised at the question, then nodded. “I want my people to be happy. To be protected.”He paused, his hands starting to form words, then stopping. “I believe I could be a good king. But if Arick would do a better job, then maybe I should step down.”
The dejection on his face made her heart ache. She leaned forward to touch his hand. When he finally met her gaze, she gave him an encouraging smile. “I think…if you’re willing to do that for your people — to step aside to let someone else rule for the good of your country — then you’re just the sort of king they need.”
He dashed a hand across his eyes and smiled at her in return. “Thanks, Sorcha. You’re pretty smart yourself.”
They sat quietly until a servant summoned him away, leaving Sorcha alone. The warmth made her drowsy, but she couldn’t help thinking of what she and Thomas had talked of. As much as she wanted nothing more to do with Arick, maybe she needed to put her feelings aside and do what was right for everyone — merfolk and humans alike.
Arickstormedthroughthecastle, seeking an escape, but no matter which way he turned, there was always someone lingering. He didn’t want even a servant to see how angry he was.
How dare those fools use his brother’s death to manipulate him?
And how dare Sorcha not tell him she was a mermaid?
“Maybe because she knew you wouldn’t have been able to understand her?”
He jumped. His wanderings had taken him into the long gallery that he hadn’t realized was occupied. Or that he’d spoken aloud.
Aisla set her book aside and stood to join him.
“Still,” he grumbled, “she could have found a way to tell me.”
“Oh, sure, that would have gone well,” his cousin replied. “‘Hi there, human man who has never seen a mermaid. I am one, and I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d help me get back home.’” She crossed her arms. “And you’d have believed her, then?”
“I…yes.”
Ailsa quirked an eyebrow at him. “Right. Because when you did learn about mermaids being real, the first thing you did was…?”
