ANNEMETTE IS AWAKE AND DRESSED WHEN I RETURN, standing at the window, looking out to the sea. Despite the sky and sun pouring in, there’s a weight to her silhouette, as there should be. This day—the next sixteen hours—means life or death.
If she hears the door and my footsteps, she doesn’t turn. Doesn’t ask where I’ve been. After a moment, she finally speaks. “It’s so beautiful, watching the sea from this view,” she says, now facing me. “But I’ll never be able to go back, and I can’t stay here. Oh, Evie. I shouldn’t have come!” A sob squats in her voice as she buries her head in her hands.
There’s not time for talk like that. No time for wishes and should haves.
“I know what to do,” I say.
“No.” She lifts her face, furious in the new light even as her voice cracks. “I told you. You can’t use love magic, Evie. You don’t understand how this works! What I’ve done. What I have—”
“Yes, I do.” I take a step closer, stubbornness squaring my shoulders. “And if Nik doesn’t have the answer, I do. I’ve found the right spell. Between the two of us, we can keep you here. I know it. I have it figured—”
“No. You. Don’t.” She lunges toward me and grabs my wrists. Her angelic face blooms with pockets of deep red. “Whatever little spell you’ve created doesn’t matter. The magic won’t take anything else. It won’t, it won’t, it won’t . . .” All the fight drains out of her in a flood, and her body sways and then begins to sink. I catch her on the way down and try to soften the blow as we hit the stone floor in a heap of silks and gold thread.
Her head dips into my lap, her shoulders heave in wracking shakes, and she moans. No tears, of course. I know that now. I place my hands gently on the back of her head, combing my fingers through her hair. I take a deep breath and let my voice settle, calm.
“We’re spending all day on a boat with Nik. Just the four of us. And then there’s the ball tonight. Balls are the most romantic venue in all the world—true love is practically a decoration.”
Annemette tosses her head from side to side in my lap, but she doesn’t say anything.
“If after the last dance, the magic still hasn’t been satisfied, we’ll do it our own way.” I wrap my arms around her shoulders and lay my head upon hers. “I won’t let you go.”
Annemette’s nerves are as obvious as her freckles as we appear in the sunlight.
She’s nervous about the time remaining.
About Nik’s feelings.
And, almost more than any of that, she’s nervous about being on the water. I know now that when she transformed, she had to let the sea go in every way possible, and it won’t take her back, not even to indulge her to enjoy a day gliding on its back.
I grab her hand and give it a squeeze as we spot the boys by Iker’s schooner. Iker and Nik each have a tulip in hand—pink for Annemette, red for me.
“Ladies,” Iker says, “you’re so beautiful today, the mermaids will be fuming with jealousy.”
I do a little curtsy, and Annemette bobs with me. “Convenient, then, that we have two dashing princes to keep us safe from their clutches.”
Iker cocks a brow and draws me in for a kiss on the cheek. “You’re meant for my clutches, not theirs.” His arms squeeze my waist in a bear hug.
Blushing lightly at the ears, Nik rolls his eyes. “Is this how it’s going to be all day with you two?”
Iker meets my eye. “Probably.”
Another roll of Nik’s eyes, and then he tugs at Annemette’s arm. “Let’s go, before it gets so crowded we can’t leave the dock.” I lift my brows in encouragement at Annemette, mouthing, “You’ll be fine.” She turns a nervous smile toward Nik.
Iker and Nik hop onto the schooner first and hold out their hands to us—no gangplank available. I step into the boat next and immediately regret not waiting to help Annemette. Her coloring has not improved, and now she stands alone on the dock, both hands gripping her tulip with white knuckles.
“Are you all right?” Nik asks, stepping forward.
Annemette nods, but there’s no credibility in it.
“She’s a tad nervous—boating accident when she was a kid.”
The kindness in Nik’s face makes me melt. “I know what that’s like. I haven’t told you about my recent incident, have I? It was scary, but the best way to beat the fear is to get back on the water. And you’re with an expert sailor today, Mette,” Nik says, slapping Iker on the back. “The best there is. You’re safe here. I promise.”
Annemette nods but doesn’t move to come aboard.
“Here, jump to me,” says Nik. “I’ll catch you.”
Annemette takes a deep breath. After several seconds, she leaps into his arms.
I stumble back out of the way just in time to give them more room. Nik’s excellent balance keeps them upright, and Mette lands as gently as possible on the little schooner’s stern, a grateful smile at her lips as she beams up at him, scooped against Nik’s chest. Exactly where she needs to be.
“Summer wine, Mette? It calms the nerves,” Iker says, sitting down on the bench next to me. Annemette shakes her head at his offer.
I meet Nik’s eyes. “Perhaps some water?” Nik nods for Iker to retrieve it from the chest he filled with chipped ice.
We’d made it to the mouth of the harbor with ease and were now pleasantly floating. Well, pleasant for everyone except Annemette, who can barely look over the rail.
Iker returns and slips the canteen to Nik, who uncaps it for Annemette.
She takes a greedy pull. “Better?” Nik asks, and she gives another unconvincing nod.
Iker grabs a large jug and fills a tin cup with the contents—from the smell of it, hvidt?l.
“Starting early, Iker?” A glint rises in Nik’s eye, and he takes a swish of Annemette’s water.
“Starting right on time. And who do you think you are, second-guessing the captain on his own boat?”
“Someone who is often in charge and remains sober for his duties.”
“This is a festival, and there has been entirely too little drinking for my taste. I am eighteen and a prince. I can enjoy myself on my own ship as I please.”
“Iker, may I have some water?” I ask, because they can’t continue this way. Not that I’m sure I can stop them, but I’ll settle for distracting them as a means to turn this around. It’s supposed to be a romantic jaunt.
Iker plops down on the bench and takes a long swig from his tin cup.
“If your sober prince wants to share, of course you may.”
I eye the flask—most likely Iker’s personal water jug and no more. It sits lightly in Nik’s hand, a third gone with two measly glugs.
“Not to second-guess the captain, but is that all you brought to drink?”
Iker shakes his head into the cup. “Like I said, there’s summer wine,” he says before raising the jug in his hand. “And hvidt?l too. I’m not an idiot—I know it’s hot.”
I roll my eyes. “What about to eat?”
Iker stands and flips open another chest of ice, plunging his free hand into the depths. “Ah, yes, cheese and fruit and not a single thing more. What is this? A garden party? There’s not even a herring.”
“Mette’s allergic,” Nik says. He was in charge of packing the food.
“Well, I’m not. And allergy, my arse. She’s just being particular to watch you fall all over yourself to accommodate her.”
Annemette winces and heat grows in Nik’s cheeks, a true argument brewing in his veins. While I’m pleased to see fire from Nik regarding Annemette, it does nobody any good if the boys toss each other overboard.
I place my hand on Iker’s forearm. The bickering is too much and almost as bad as the lack of water and food. If it goes on, this day will truly not go as planned. He turns to me and I give him a calming smile.
“We have the sun and blue sky and each other. We have enough.”
Iker draws me in to the flat of his chest—the scent there more than salt and limes, a sour note from the hvidt?l ruining the balance. Nik glances down.