Page 3 of The Merman’s Betrothal (Outcast Hearts #2)

‘ That is not the point, sprat. ’ Iomhar massaged his temples.

‘ Do you realise you avoid forging connections with others at all costs? Please, I am begging you. Before you are sent away with the Redfolk, spend some time among your own kin. This is your last chance, Fionn. Please do not waste the time you have left with pointless patrols and practice for combat that you will not face. ’

The dawning of realisation on Fionn was an empty one, leaving his heart feeling hollow. Iomhar wanted him to make a friend. That was all. Fionn was facing a lifetime of banishment by arranged marriage, and Iomhar was merely worried about his minuscule social circle.

‘ I’ll do as I please, ’ Fionn sang back sulkily, then dipped into the current. This time, Iomhar did not follow.

Fionn closed his eyes, allowing the current to propel him like flotsam down an underwater river. He wished to scream, but doing so would upset the ocean. Already it thrashed a little too harshly, reacting to his barely-contained fury.

Fury—or was it despair?

A creature had sensed his suffering. Its dark shape caught up with him in the current: the sleek body of a female grey seal. She nudged Fionn’s elbow, tickling his torso with her whiskers.

Fionn rolled to greet her. ‘ Hello Acha, ’ he sang, stroking her head through the streaming bubbles. ‘ My most loyal friend. ’

Acha was a wonderful companion. She didn’t talk back, for one thing.

Together, they ducked out of the current a few yards away from the palace boundary.

The area around the palace was marked by a perimeter of large standing stones protruding from the seabed.

Each stone was scored with fae markings: together, they generated an invisible magical barrier.

Looking in from the outside, a stranger might believe the space beyond the stones was empty.

Any fish that drew too close were swept backwards by a powerful vortex in the water.

Fionn hovered just outside the boundary line. Within, a faint vision of the palace was clear to him. The stones recognised his Bluefolk blood and would allow him to pass.

Still, Fionn didn’t move.

He pictured his father inside, holding court from his throne of coral.

The Blue King would bend his ear to the advice and requests of other Minchmen, nod respect to the warriors and gratitude to the foragers, and speak warmly to his two other sons.

But Fionn, his eldest, he would greet with little more than a blank stare.

Fionn had known his purpose from a young age. It was the duty of every firstborn prince: his Redfolk betrothal had been sealed in blood by magic centuries ago, before he was even born. The palace records described it as a fae bargain, an unbreakable pact.

The Redfolk lived in the fae realm—an alien place Fionn could barely conceive of, existing on a separate plane adjacent to the world he called home. The magic there was supposedly older and stronger than the weak streams of it that floated haphazardly over the earth.

Magic was at the heart of the marriage bargain between their kingdoms. It was, after all, an exchange of goods. A prince in exchange for fae enchantments, like the one carved into the boundary stones around the palace.

Soon, Fionn would meet the creature that he was destined to spend the rest of his life with. And he’d be spending it in the fae realm, a literal world away from his home waters.

The thought made him sick.

‘ Why is the water sour here? ’ asked a confused and unfamiliar voice behind him.

‘ What’s your business at the palace? ’ Fionn snapped, whirling to face the other Minchman who startled in a cloud of bubbles.

The newcomer was a slight thing, which was very unusual for Bluefolk.

Short hair rather than braided, Fionn also noted.

Some recognition clicked as he realised they’d been introduced before. ‘ Neacel, is it? ’

The young Minchman perked up. ‘ That’s me, Your Highness. Nice to meet you again. I’m sorry you couldn’t join my forage along the reefs. There is a beautiful cave I would have liked to show you out there. Full of crystals. But of course, I realise a prince has more worthy matters to tend to. ’

Fionn searched for a hint of sarcasm in Neacel’s round, honest face, and found none. He cast a cursory glance over his tattoos as well: a light string of them across his collarbone proclaimed Neacel’s acuity in foraging, and a solitary mark by his left hip noted that he had once slain a kelpie.

Neacel tapped the tattoo and Fionn froze, realising he’d been staring.

Neacel merely gave an answer as though continuing a previous conversation.

‘ It took me by surprise near the coastline. But it was very small and I got lucky, I must admit. I am not built for fighting. ’ He nodded to Fionn’s tattoos.

‘ I see you have a string of orcas to your name. ’

Fionn puffed out his chest. It was rare that he was given chance to boast of his accomplishments—which paled by comparison to the likes of Iomhar and other warriors. ‘ I rid our waters of a pod that was terrorising our people, ’ he explained, exaggerating the truth just a little.

‘ Wow. A whole pod. ’

Fionn preened.

‘ That must be humbling, having to kill a whole family. ’

Fionn deflated. The way Neacel said it whisked his pride away. ‘ I was protecting our kingdom, ’ he muttered.

‘ No doubt. ’ Neacel smiled and fell silent. After a long moment of feeling awkward, Fionn discerned that the young Minchman was waiting for him to cross the boundary into the palace waters first as a sign of respect.

Fionn scowled and gestured at the boundary. ‘ After you. I won’t be going in just now. ’

Neacel still seemed reluctant to pass him. No surprise, as everyone knew to keep a wide berth around the First Prince. He was like a piece of glass that nobody dared go near for fear of breaking. No one wanted to be responsible for fouling the bargain with the Redfolk.

Fionn made a show of gliding backward and waving the way clear for Neacel. ‘ Don’t fear. I shan’t shatter if you happen to brush me with a ripple. ’

To his surprise, Neacel chuckled. ‘ I should think it would take much greater effort to put a dent in you, Your Highness. Actually, I wish to ask you a question. ’

‘ Speak it. ’

For the first time Neacel seemed to squirm, hesitating before he replied.

‘ Tonight I am attending a gathering in the human settlement at Ullapool. I wondered if you would like to join me? Not just me—some of our warriors are attending, too, ’ he added quickly, as though that would sweeten the proposition.

Fionn’s eyes narrowed. ‘ Did Iomhar put you up to this? ’

A flash of panic stole Neacel’s song from him. ‘ Um… ’

‘I knew it. He needs to keep out of my business. ’ Fionn gave a trill of disgust and turned to swim away.

‘ Your Highness! ’ Neacel followed him, drawing fitfully alongside as if moving to—but not quite daring to—cut him off. ‘P lease. It is not all Iomhar’s idea. ’

Fionn’s frown deepened. ‘ Oh? You also think I’m lonely and wasting away my youth, do you? ’

Neacel blinked rapidly, his innocent face betraying that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind at all. ‘ I don’t think so, Your Highness. I actually hoped… ’

Neacel winced, leaving the unsaid words to falter into silence.

‘ Hoped what? ’ Fionn demanded. His DeepSong came out as more of a bark and Neacel shied away.

Neacel took a deep breath and closed his eyes. ‘ I wish to court a member of your guard and Iomhar suggested that you might help me make an introduction. ’

Fionn’s instinctive response to this was more resentment. Every other Minchman could choose their lovers. Could use a phrase as sickly-sweet as ‘to court’ someone, rather than having the choice thrust upon them.

Perhaps the bitterness was plain on Fionn’s face, or the water took on the taste of his rancour, because Neacel retreated, clutching at the seaweed satchel slung across his chest.

Still, wasn’t this a member of the kingdom asking him for help? Fionn fought to rein in some of his bitterness. Neacel’s request was sincere and it was one that Fionn had the power to grant.

Fionn cleared his throat and forced his DeepSong into a level tone. ‘ Who do you pursue? ’

Neacel appeared to blush. ‘ Seòras, your Highness. ’

‘ Ah. ’ Fionn paused, considering Neacel’s diminuitive frame against what he knew of his head bodyguard.

Seòras was the biggest Minchman he’d ever met, and Fionn had learned from overheard conversations that he liked his partners just as big and preferably capable of fighting off a kraken.

Neacel’s paltry kelpie was unlikely to impress.

Still, the kid could dream.

‘ I can’t promise much, ’ Fionn warned, ‘ but I shall introduce you. ’

Neacel hid neither his surprise nor his delight. ‘ Thank you, Your Highness! Then you will join me in Ullapool tonight? ’

Of course, the distasteful downside to Neacel’s request. Iomhar’s words still sat heavy in Fionn’s heart, urging him not to waste the time he had left.

Fionn couldn’t think of a more wasteful way of spending his time than to go off gallivanting to a human town. What could he possibly hope to learn or achieve there?

Of course, his younger brothers spoke eagerly of observing humans and understanding their culture as though it were key to the kingdom’s future success.

And perhaps they were right. Humans dominated the land and had spread just as far over the sea.

These days the paths of humans wavered too close to those of Bluefolk.

It might be only a matter of time until there was conflict in the open.

Of course, this wasn’t supposed to be a concern for Fionn, who would have no say in guiding his kingdom in this realm. He would be far away, keeping the peace with the Redfolk in theirs.

In a way, this sealed the deal. He would choose to take the opportunity to observe, while he still had choices in front of him.

Fionn squared his shoulders. ‘ Yes. I’ll accompany you. Just this once. ’

Neacel’s DeepSong resonated with gratitude. ‘ It will be a beautiful evening! You shan’t regret it, Your Highness. ’