He takes my hand in both of his. “Let me right this wrong. Please. That girl means nothing to me.”
The icy-blond girl is nowhere to be seen. She’s not hanging over his shoulder. She’s not anywhere. His dismissal after one song must have been more than disappointing.
I make the mistake of looking into his eyes. He’s spelled me as deeply as any magic I’ve ever known, using memories as much as the present. But I can’t dance with him. The embarrassment of rejection will double if the townsfolk see this as a pity dance. I shake my head.
“Please,” he begs. “I can’t bear to dance with any of these girls. I need you, Evie. Only you.”
I look around at everyone enjoying the evening. Dancing, spinning, laughing. Why shouldn’t I have that? Let them talk.
Finally, I nod, and he draws me up and sets one hand upon my waist. My hand fits neatly into his other palm. Like it’s meant to be there. The band plays at a sweeping clip, and we make our way onto the floor. I feel as if the entire world has blown away and only Iker and I stand alone, pressed together in an invisible, swirling tide.
“My aunt must have put that girl’s name on the scroll,” Iker whispers in my ear. “It has to be. Yours was the one that I requested.”
I want to believe him. I do. But I know his reputation. His habits. And somewhere deep in my gut I wonder if he and that girl had met before. He didn’t look my way when her name was called. Not like Nik. Iker only looked at her—like he knew her.
“Please, Evie—” Iker leans back so I can glimpse his face as we sweep through traffic on the dance floor. The strain in his voice has reached his eyes.
“Iker, it’s fine,” I say. Even though it’s not.
He twirls me past the king and dodges Malvina and Ruyven. We pass Nik and Annemette, and a prickle of magic shoots through my blood. I wonder if Annemette has used a spell to keep her feet from tripping up. For all her grace, even after an hour of practice, her legs weren’t doing what she wanted, her exhaustion too great.
Iker follow’s my eyes. “What?” he asks.
There’s not much I can say that he’ll agree with. “Nik and Annemette—they’re just so . . . this is just so . . .”
“Questionable?”
That was not the word I was thinking of. The specter of his anger on the ship rises. I haven’t seen him have a sip of hvidt?l tonight, but his true feelings are on display again in that single word. I smile, hoping it will soften the edge in his eye. “Romantic. That was the word I was going for. Romantic.”
Iker laughs, bold, in his way. The few heads that weren’t watching our drama unfold turn at the sound, and he makes a show of plucking a wayward curl off my face before leaning back in to whisper in my ear. “There is not a single iota of real romance in that relationship.” His voice is light, but I know he’s not kidding.
“Have you seen them?” I shoot back, my voice as cheery as possible, though there is irritation crawling across my heart. Why can’t he accept that Annemette could make Nik happy—that we could all be so incredibly happy?
“Evie, you are as brilliant as you are beautiful, strong and ship worthy; your wit is a marvel . . . but”—and my heart drops here, made worse by the fact that it feels as if his eyes are seeing through me—“all this time with Nik, and you still don’t understand that royal duty is duty to the people? We are walking symbols—ones who can dance and sing and perform. We do those things for our people, whether we want to or not—symbols do not have a choice.”
We whirl around in another circle, and he moves to the other side of my face, pressing his cheek into mine. “That romance you see is just passing. It cannot stay—the crown won’t allow it.”
And just like that, Iker confirms everything I’ve known all along. He may be angry at Annemette, but his same rules apply to me. It’s been sitting there right below the surface the whole time we’ve been together. And in each chance that I’ve had to walk away, I’ve willingly fooled myself into denial, his smiles or promises changing my mind.
But the cruelest thing is that he thinks I should just accept this, which is why the words fall off his tongue as if they’re a passing phrase. He can beg me to dance, to sail away with him, be at his beck and call, be his . . . plaything. And I’m supposed to accept it because he has responsibility, he has his duty? No.
I want to break free, but we’re spinning, one turn after another as his painful words swirl around me. His grip is so tight.
“Don’t you see how exceptionally dangerous she is, Evie?” Iker goes on.
“There’s nothing dangerous about love, Iker,” I say, the heated words sounding cold.
“Everything about love is dangerous. When I look at Annemette, I see a person I don’t know who has incredible interest in my cousin. Considering his status, his responsibilities, and his heart, that isn’t innocent. It’s predatory.”
Predatory? Maybe only in the plainest sense: Annemette has to win Nik’s love to stay. But considering she’s invested her life in this, considering my magic is insurance, considering she belongs here—I know deep down she is one of us—predatory is the wrong word.
Fate is the right one.
This is fate. It is fate for this to succeed. For our world to be righted again.
“And do you see me as a predator?” I finally ask. “I’m a girl without a title. But I wanted to be with you.”
At this he smiles, and for the first time I’m not sure if it’s for me or for the couples surrounding us, swirling across the marble. Iker as a symbol—Prince Charming. His role.
“Of course not, because I asked you. And I know that you, of all people, see how this works.”
He’s right. I always have. And under the light of the hundreds of candles decorating the chandeliers above, there are no more dark spaces to hide away this reality.
And just like I can never truly be with Iker, Nik can never truly be with Annemette. When he finds out she’s not really nobility, it’ll be over, and never mind if he ever finds out what she really is. If she was truly Anna, maybe. Maybe. But Anna is dead, and no spell can fix that. I don’t know what I was thinking, asking Annemette to believe that Nik would fight for her. That he’d ever be able to defy the queen. I guess I just wanted to believe it for her as much as I wanted to believe it for myself.
I look for them, twirling at the center of the room. Although she only needs true love’s kiss, and not a proposal of marriage, I worry that Nik may never let himself give one without the other.
I try to catch Annemette’s eye. We should go. I can do my spell and she can stay, and we can be friends. New love will eventually find each of us. But instead I catch Nik’s. For some reason, he breaks rhythm and leads Annemette our way, cutting through the couples, against the tune.
“Cousin, how is the dancing?” Iker greets them, as jolly as ever.
“Magnificent,” Nik answers. “Though I wondered if we might switch partners for a song.”
He doesn’t give a reason. Just meets my eyes again. The same weight hangs in their dark-brown depths as when my name wasn’t called.
My stomach blooms with warmth for the shortest of moments before a tiny sound from Annemette breaks the hold Nik has on me. I draw myself together and look to her. Color has rushed to her cheeks, her blushed lips hanging open—it’s clear the last thing in the world she wants is time with Iker.
“It’s so hopeless,” she says, a sob cutting into the air.
She gathers her skirts and shoulders past us, toward the balcony. Toward privacy for tears that won’t come.
Without a second thought, I chase after her.
FOUR DAYS BEFORE
The little mermaid knew she wouldn’t be as lucky as her namesake queen. She knew the death of another was the only way to get her soul back.