Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“Nice stripes,” one dragonette heckled. “Did you lose a bet with a zebra fish?”
Up ahead, the bioluminescent coral towers stood proudly, inviting merfolk and sea creatures alike.
Say what you would about maternal expectations and unending royal pressure, but the palace? The palace was magic.
Coral spires, glowing towers, water that hummed with music—this was home.
As she glided through the halls, she ignored the pitying looks from those she passed.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Iris sang as soon as she swam into the throne room, breathless and trying for repentant but likely landing somewhere more along the lines of ‘guilty puppy.’
Queen Tatiana didn’t even blink. Her icy-blue gaze swept over Iris like a glacier.
“I do not have time to be kept waiting, Daughter.”
Translation: you’re in so much trouble.
Her pink hair danced in the water around her as her cool blue eyes took in her daughter. “But, indeed, your dedication to shirking your royal responsibilities ends today.”
Great.
Crab pinches were definitely in her future.
Or maybe a squid-ink graffiti cleaning detail.
“It is time for you to marry.”
Well, then.
Iris blinked.
“I’d rather take the eels.”
Her mother didn’t flinch. Not even a twitch. Which made it so much worse.
As a princess, Iris understood that marriage was a non-negotiable. And likely heavily influenced by her mother. That said, she was young; she had time. Hopefully, by then, all the obnoxious mermen who thought it was appropriate to comment on her seashell bra would be married off to others.
“It’s going to be Osiren, isn’t it?” Iris asked. Her mind conjured up images of the last time she’d seen him—bench-pressing a defenseless manatee to show off his bulging biceps for a group of giggling mermaids. Iris loved her people, but she had to admit, they could at times be a tad superficial.
Unfortunately for Iris, that gene had skipped her. She didn’t particularly care about the size of her potential partner’s muscles.
That was probably why she spent so much time reading the pressed-kelp, shell-bound books in the royal library. Even if there was an extremely limited supply thanks to a general preference among the merfolk for socializing rather than reading.
But those books were full of complex men and women who had motivations outside of sensual escapades and decorating their hair.
That said, she’d known for many years that, politically, her marriage would be to someone important.
Like it or not, Osiren was the son of her mother’s closest confidant.
And, sure, Osiren had abs for days.
But he also had the personality of wet driftwood.
She’d rather marry the manatee.
“It is not,” Tatiana said.
A chill ran down Iris’s spine.
Oh, no.
That meant it was someone worse than Osiren. Which shouldn’t have been possible, and yet, here they were.
But for the life of her, Iris couldn’t think of a single councilman who was anywhere near her own age. The prospect of being forced into marriage with a man old enough to be her own father made her heart sink.
Sure, she knew that no matter how much her heart ached for a real, genuine love connection, she was always meant for an arranged marriage designed to further a political agenda. The best she could hope for was to learn to care for her spouse.
“Who is it?” Iris asked, sounding like a sea urchin was caught in her throat.
“Finn Westrock,” the queen announced.
Finn Westrock?
Iris blinked.
“I’m sorry—who?”
That wasn’t a name; it sounded like a brand.
Was he one of the mysterious, brooding finfolk? Or, perhaps, one of the deeply emotional selkies?
Iris might not mind a marriage with one of them if a union between sea creatures was what her mother was seeking.
“What is he, then? Selkie? Finfolk? Siren with a tragic backstory?”
“He is a human.”
Iris stared. “A human human?”
“Yes. A land-dweller. Bipeds. You’ve seen their trash.”
Iris couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling up and bursting out.
“Oh, thank you, Mother. I was in desperate need of a laugh.”
“I assure you, this is no laughing matter.”
Iris’s heart sank. “You want me to marry a human? On land?”
“Yes, darling. That is where the humans live.”
“But that’s not where I live! I sunbathe on rocks; I don’t collect husbands from them!”
“You know just as well as I do that you are more than capable of living on land.”
Capable? Yes. Willing? Absolutely not.
“Mother …”
This could not be happening. She loved the ocean. It was her home. It was all she ever knew. She’d never technically even been on land. The closest she got was sunning herself on a rock. But she always panicked when she dried too much and started to see skin replace her lovely scales.
“I’m afraid this is non-negotiable, Iris.”
“Why can’t Shelly marry this Finn man?”
Iris’s younger sister notoriously loved the land. She dreamed of little else than stepping out of the ocean for good and living among the people and creatures above sea level.
“You know Shelly is too young.”
“She’s not that much younger than me. It can wait a year. Even two.”