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Chapter Five

Sleep eluded her, leaving her to toss and turn in the narrow bed Caspian had hastily made up for her for the night. He’d returned to the house long enough to tell her where to sleep—a room barely the size to accommodate the bed—before he left again, disappearing into the night.

His admissions haunted her in the hours leading up to dawn. The truths she’d refused to see or think about, believing he’d left the sea—and her—for personal gain. She’d always known in her heart Caspian never thought of himself first.

Tears coasted across her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had no right to indulge in a pity cry. Not when she was to blame for the terrifying chain of events that had led them here. Whether Dima was part of that chain, she didn’t know, but her entrance into Aria’s life was enough to make her wonder if Aria led Caspian to do something to draw the witch’s attention.

“I left the water because of you.”

The whispered confession played havoc with her mind and the tender emotions that somehow found their way to the surface. Had Caspian truly admitted that? Or had her ears played tricks on her in her rush to escape the brutal reality of his disclosure. Why would he leave the sea because of her? The ocean was immense. Surely there were places he could have gone, land not being one of them.

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the east-side windows, casting the wood-plank floors in shades of brown. Dust drifted through the rays like snow. Aria climbed from the bed, fatigue wrapped tightly around her body, and shuffled into the main room.

“Caspian?” She crossed the room to peek into the only other bedroom in the house, glancing into the empty bathing room on her way. Both rooms were empty. She leaned against the doorframe. The corners of her mouth pulled down, the weight of disappointment heavy on her heart. She’d have to check the tunnel. Maybe he had returned to his cliffside to ponder the surf.

A glint of silver caught her eye as she started to push off the doorframe and head toward the closet-like space that concealed the trapdoor. A plate on the small dining table held a pile of cured meats and shelled eggs. A piece of paper beside the plate rerouted her path. As she drew closer, she noticed the small bowl of jam and the slices of bread tucked beneath the meats.

Pretty cursive looped in a short note across the paper.

You will find fruit and juice in the icebox. Be sure to eat your meal. Do not wander the village streets alone. I’ll return later this evening.

Caspian

Sadly, the tossing and turning and lack of sleep on top of the distress caused by Caspian’s unfiltered revelations did little to help her appetite. The food smelled delightful, but her stomach clenched at the idea of actually eating anything. She managed to swallow a few bites of bread and jam, a single boiled egg, and a crispy piece of bacon before the handle on the main door jostled.

Fear staked her where she stood, watching in horror as the handle moved and the lock turned. In the last seconds before the door opened, she broke free of her paralyzing fear and bolted into the bedroom. She crouched behind the mostly closed door and peered through the crack. Sunlight cast the intruder in silhouette, making it difficult to discern features. He was shorter than Caspian, stockier, with a heavy step and a burlap sack dragging on the floor beside him.

“Miss?”

Aria recoiled from the crack, hoping the sunlight hadn’t given her hiding spot away. The man grunted when he lifted the sack and dropped it onto the dining table. The plate and utensils clattered. The man returned to the door and closed it quietly, twisting the bolt to lock it from within. As he turned, she recognized him.

Brack. Caspian’s manservant.

He removed his tweed hat and rubbed his forearm across a forehead that glistened with sweat. He was dressed in a similar fashion as the day before, brown pants, a tunic shirt and a brown vest. His leather boots were less than clean, with caked mud, roughened edges and cracked soles. The laces were frayed.

A disheveled man, a shocking contrast to Caspian.

“Miss? It’s, uh, Brack. Caspian sent me to check in on you. Make sure, er, that you’re fairing well? I brought fresh meat he plans to prepare for dinner.” The man cleared the rasp from his throat with a few coughs. “Sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Slowly, Aria stood up. She continued to monitor Brack as he tugged the sack open and pulled out three large paper-wrapped items. He paused long enough to read the note on the table. He rubbed a hand over his balding head and turned about with a worried crease deepening across his forehead.

“Be here, be here, be here,” he muttered. A nervous tick jumped in the corner of his mouth. Would Caspian harm this man if he believed his employee lost her? “Miss?”

“I’m here,” Aria finally said, stepping around the door and pausing in the doorway.

Brack shuffled backward, hitting the table with his legs. His eyes went wide.

Aria frowned and lifted her hands in front of her. No. Her skin hadn’t taken on that sickly gray. She touched her neck, seeking any reason for the man’s startled reaction. Nope. No scales.

“I-I’m sorry. Is something wrong?” she asked, tracing the human lines of her face with her fingertips. No sign of mermaid.

Brack stuttered a few breaths, then offered an awkward half-bow. “I…I wasn’t expecting…I wasn’t sure…”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What were you expecting?”

When he straightened, obviously fighting to get some dignity in his composure, the stray rays of sunshine brought the rosy hues of his face to life. She couldn’t help but grin at the man’s bashful glow. He appeared so harmless, with his nervous ticks and stutters.

“Caspian once told me about you. Daughter of a deity. He failed to tell me how beautiful you are. Rumors in Alamari don’t do you justice, highness.”