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)
“I’m sure. I just can’t focus today.”
“Maybe you need to hit the gym. That usually helps to shake out the cobwebs.”
“Maybe.”
Henry watched him for a moment, then sighed.
“All right. What is it? Not campaign manager to political hopeful. Friend to friend.”
He knew better than to believe they could separate the two. But he had no one else to talk to.
“It’s Iris.”
“Did she pick up throat singing? Séances? Collecting werewolf claws?”
He could bring up the incredibly creepy vintage porcelain doll that had been sitting in the bathroom first thing in the morning. Or the fact that he was reasonably sure he heard a musical laugh out in the hallway when the sight of it made him let out a yelp he wasn’t exactly proud of.
“Not yet. But I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“What is it, then? Just her weird hobbies? Those can be … guided. Smoothed over.”
Finn sighed. He’d always appreciated Henry’s ability to view a situation as an objective outsider. But they were talking about Iris now, not some abstract idea. He didn’t want to hear all the ways she could be altered to better serve a preferred image.
“I’m not trying to change her.”
In fact, the problem was he liked her a little too much just as she was.
“What, then?”
“Tell me more about the arrangement.”
“What do you mean? You get married. After some carefully chosen and executed events. Pretty simple.”
“I mean the process of setting it up. Did you speak to the queen herself?”
“No. From what I understand, Tatiana doesn’t come to the surface.”
“Why, then, would she want a princess to?”
“We’ve covered this. Pollution regulations.”
“Who did you speak to?”
“Maria. She’s the queen’s land dignitary.”
“What did Maria say the queen said about the situation?”
“That she was open to it. What are you trying to get at here? What are you digging for?”
“Information.”
“About what?”
“If Iris was forced into this or not.”
“Oh.” Henry’s shoulders slumped a little. “That, I don’t know. But I’d venture a guess that the merfolk are a lot like many other paranormal royal families.”
“Meaning?”
“That there is an expectation of … advantageous weddings for the princes and princesses.”
Finn mulled on that for a moment. “Was Tatiana’s own marriage arranged?”
“Oh, absolutely. That was a big to-do. They’d never even met until the day of their wedding. Tatiana’s consort was an important political figure from a merclan from somewhere off the shores of Greece. So, I would venture to guess that Iris knew her whole life that she might end up married for political gain.”
Maybe that was true.
But she’d likely never considered that her marriage would end up being on land.
His mind flashed back to Iris diving into the pool in his building, the enthusiasm of her movements, the joy on her face.
She clearly loved the water.
It was in her blood.
Every time she looked at him instead of the sea, she was reminded of what she was losing, of what he had stolen from her.
Something sacred.
Her very nature.
“Is she complaining?” Henry asked.
“No. She never complains.”
Except about the temperature of the air conditioning. And why human beings had yet to develop a comfortable shoe. And the fact that her favorite Chinese food place closed too early on Tuesday nights. And, of course, that the sequels to certain books weren’t even written yet, let alone close to publication.
She said almost none of those things directly to him, though. Most of it was things she’d grumbled to herself or confessed to Monty. Or, even on occasion, to Checkers. To his credit, he was happy to warm her lap anytime she wanted it.
Iris rarely, if ever, spoke to him, unless she absolutely needed to. It was something that bothered him more with each passing day. Even if, admittedly, he’d never been great at bringing up random topics of conversation, unless they had to do with politics or his campaign.
He’d been coached on who to be for so long that he was starting to worry he’d forgotten who he was—under the talking points, beneath the plans.
“Then why are you asking about the arrangement?”
“I want to know if she agreed to it. Or if she was forced into it.”
“I think, in a way, it would be both, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
“Why these thoughts all of a sudden?”
“I dunno,” he lied. “I guess it’s just the first time I’ve slowed down enough to really think about the situation.”
That may have had a small part in it.
But Finn knew what had changed was the dynamic between the two of them.
Anytime he thought about the incident in the hallway, he swore he could still feel her, could still hear her moans.
Then the kiss on the street.
The reason for it may have been manufactured, but the passion itself was all organic.
But after both instances, when he’d maybe been expecting softness and sweetness, he got coldness and guardedness.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted him—he’d felt it. But something always snapped shut afterward. Like desire for him was dangerous. Like it cost her something. And he didn’t know why.