Chapter Fourteen

MER

Mer was pulled violently from her nightmare.

She blindly swung toward the person shaking her shoulder. A firm hand caught her wrist.

“That’s enough of that,” a firm feminine voice chastised.

Yanking her wrist from the stranger’s grip, Mer blinked repeatedly as the world bobbed and dipped. She launched to her feet, stumbling toward the fire, her right hand catching on the mantel. Using it as an anchor, Mer focused on the extremely tall woman wearing linen trousers and a frown.

“What do you want?” Mer asked, wishing the pain from her skull would stop.

“To stop the pain.”

If only that were possible. She’d been in constant pain since Ream’s betrayal.

Mer swayed, eyeing the basket stuffed full of bandages and tinctures. “You’re here to heal me?”

“Yes. Do you really think anyone would let you languish in the state you’re in, my lady?”

Why yes, that was exactly what Mer had thought.

Once she’d been sure the king had gone for good, Mer had moved to the main double doors of the suite looking for an exit.

When she’d opened them, six warriors had been stationed outside.

She’d taken one look at them and slammed the doors in their faces.

Then she’d locked them and moved a chair in front of them for good measure.

Her eyes narrowed at the broken chair and the pristine door. Someone had a key to her room. That wasn’t optimal, but there were better ways to barricade a room. Which she’d do once her infernal head stopped pounding and the dizzy spells ceased.

The woman tsked when Mer swayed again, her legs almost buckling at the wave of pain that crashed over her. “Enough of this nonsense.” She set her basket on the large tufted chair by the fire and then invaded Mer’s space, slipping an arm around her waist. “You need to lie down.”

There were many times to be stubborn, but this was not one of them. Saliva flooded Mer’s mouth as they shuffled across the massive gothic room. Any moment and she’d throw up. Again.

Tears sprang in the corners of her eyes as the healer pulled back the deep purple coverlet and helped Mer lie down on the four-poster bed. The plush mattress alone soothed some of her aches and pains.

“Don’t go back to sleep,” the healer warned, pulling the coverlet up to Mer’s chin. “I’ll be right back.”

Mer nodded and closed her eyes, listening to the woman stride across the room and back. The mattress dipped as the healer sat beside her and gently pulled Mer’s tangled hair away from her throbbing temple.

“He got you good,” the healer muttered, disapproval in her voice.

“He looks worse,” Mer retorted with a small smirk, cracking one eye open.

The healer rolled her eyes. “What a pair you make. Now, hold still. This might hurt.”

Mer flinched when the healer cleaned her temple, the nausea rising up. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Not on me, you’re not.” A leafy plant was shoved unceremoniously between Mer’s lips. Mint. “Chew it and then swallow.”

Mer did as she was told, slowly chewing the fibrous leaf, the bitter minty flavor coating her tongue. Her eyes closed, and she focused on the mint. She hissed when the healer poured a tincture on her head and swallowed the bitter leaf.

“That stings.”

“Yes, it does, but it cleans the wound. Wouldn’t want you to die from infection.”

“Only by extreme heights,” Mer deadpanned. She opened her eyes, watching as the healer began threading the needle. “Stitches?”

“Only a few. Significantly fewer than the king.” The woman gave her an unamused look. “I would offer you something to drink to dull the pain, but judging from the drained decanter on the floor, I dare not give you anything more.”

It hadn’t been the best idea to start drinking, but she had needed something to take the edge off the pain. Her head had felt like it was going to split open. Plus, she’d been so cold, and the shivering wouldn’t stop. It was only when the spirits took effect that they’d finally stopped.

“I can handle it.” She stared at the ornate stone ceiling.

It had been carved to look like wrought iron filigree.

It was stunning. Her eye twitched at the first prick of the needle and tug of the thread.

The healer worked swiftly; her motions were steady and efficient and gentle.

Human healing was barbaric but effective at times.

What she wouldn’t give for a jelly sedative.

“What’s your name?” Mer asked.

“Levay.”

An interesting name for an interesting woman. “Where exactly am I, Levay?”

“Not a chance, my lady. I will not give you information that you can use against my king.”

Levay tied off the last stitch and cut the thread.

Mer turned her head to the side slightly, meeting the woman’s metallic green eyes. “Am I not your queen?”

The healer smiled. “Not until you prove yourself worthy.”

A sentiment that Mer agreed with. She smiled at Levay.

“Very well.” The healer was loyal to the king, but she sensed that the woman had a mind of her own.

If Mer played her cards right, perhaps she’d gain a confidant in the healer, which would prove very useful.

“Do you have something for the pain in that bag of tricks?”

The healer snorted. “Would you take it if I gave it to you?”

Mer blinked slowly. It was very possible that the king had sent the healer to Mer to drug her. But then why the stitches? “Perhaps.”

Levay smirked. “You’re concussed, my lady.

Even if my king had sent me to drug you, my oath comes before the monarchy.

It’s too dangerous for you to go into a deep sleep.

” She pulled a small green bottle from the basket and uncorked the top.

“Decide now if you wish for some relief. I haven’t got all day. ”

That settled it. Mer nodded and parted her lips. Levay poured the sour contents into Mer’s mouth, and her eyes watered as she swallowed it. “That swill is disgusting,” she gasped.

“Yes, but it does the job.” The healer shifted on the bed. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you in a little bit to check up on you.”

Mer’s eyes fluttered closed. She didn’t think she’d be able to fall asleep with a stranger watching her.

She awoke with an aching body and sunlight streaming into the bedroom.

Mer slowly sat up and then immediately lay back down, noting Levay was asleep in one of the chairs by the fire. Her head still hurt, but it was significantly less than the prior day. She exhaled and peered up at the ceiling.

She’d tried to kill the Methian king.

He’d thrown her off the back of his fiilee .

Twice.

And they’d both survived.

Tipping her head to the right, she scanned the space. A side table, candelabras, a door leading to what she presumed was the bathing room. Mer rolled her head to the left. Another side table, a large desk and chair.

Ever so slowly, Mer sat up until her back was leaning against the velvet headboard. Her head pulsed softly, but the dizziness abated quickly. She stiffened as she focused on the unwanted woman by the fireplace.

It was not the healer but the dowager queen.

The regal older woman had her long legs crossed at the knee and leaned an elbow on the arm of the chair while she studied Mer. It was a fight not to reach for her hair and smooth down the short tangled locks that surely looked like a knot of eels.

They said nothing as they appraised each other.

Mer didn’t know much about the dowager queen, only that she’d ruled most of her adult life by herself while raising children alone.

“To what do I owe the surprise visit?” Mer asked. She didn’t want to play games. She was too bloody sore and tired.

“I came to check on my new daughter. You’ve been sleeping for three days.”

No wonder she was so weak.

Mer snorted. “I doubt that. I might have been concussed, but I haven’t forgotten how you looked at me on the dock. If you could have killed me, you would have struck me down right then.”

“A mother’s love. You’ll understand soon enough, my dear,” the dowager queen commented.

Mer flinched. One point to the old queen.

She’d die before she gave the Methian king heirs.

“What I don’t understand,” the dowager queen continued, “is why jeopardize the treaty between our kingdoms? It doesn’t make sense to send a royal assassin. Nor does the Sirenidae attack at sea. Just what is your grandfather after?”

Attack at sea? Mer cocked her head, forcing her expression into one of serenity while she processed the information that the dowager queen had given her. Sirenidae couldn’t survive the cold water of the north. “Sirenidae attacks here?”

The queen nodded.

That wasn’t right. “Where did the attacks happen?”

“North of the Wasting Corals.”

Mer’s brows rose. “Why do you believe it was a Sirenidae attack?”

“Because the fishing vessel had been run aground on the poisonous coral beds, and their hearts had been torn from their chests. They were way off course.”

“Torn from their chests?” Mer echoed. That was brutal. The strength necessary for such an act of violence would have to be substantial. Even the strongest Sirenidae wouldn’t have enough strength to accomplish such a thing. “Not possible.”

The dowager queen’s eyes glittered with anger. “I assure you it most definitely is. I saw the bodies with my own eyes. The bodies of children.”

Mer flinched. Sirenidae cherished children. Anyone who hurt wee ones was punished by death. It was not tolerated in their culture and extremely rare. “It was not Sirenidae then.”

“This is not the first time your kind has targeted our ships, but this will be the last.” Her voice held a threat.

Mer’s eyes narrowed at the queen. She threw back the covers and slowly climbed to her feet, toes digging into a soft fur rug.

Staying in bed any longer felt too vulnerable.

“My grandfather desires this union. He would not have risked it for the lives of a few fishermen.” The dowager queen opened her mouth to respond, but Mer held her hand up.

“What’s more, as a whole, our people cherish children.

Even if a rogue Sirenidae had theoretically attacked your fishing vessel, they would have left the wee ones alone. That was not us.”

It was obvious the Methian had heard horror stories about the Sirenidae. While she wouldn’t perpetuate the notions, she wouldn’t put herself at a disadvantage by admitting her people couldn’t travel through the cold Methian waters. Unfortunately, fear did lead to power at times.

“What’s interesting,” Mer continued, “is the fact that you didn’t strike me down the moment I climbed on the dock. You thought we’d committed an act of war, and yet here I stand.” The dowager queen didn’t react, which was telling in itself. “You must need something desperately from us.”

Her mind ran over the dowry her grandfather had sent. Riches, yes. Herbs from the trench, which wasn’t a surprise—everyone wanted to extend their lives. And healers—a plethora of them. She pursed her lips in thought. The healers: that’s what they were after.

“Who is ill?” she asked. “Is it you?”

The dowager queen stood from her chair. “I’m in excellent health.”

“Then the king.” Mer smiled. Perhaps the king would die of natural causes. Well, hopefully after she’d made his life a mess.

The dowager queen scowled. “Don’t look so gleeful. He’s healthy.” She frowned. “Why do you hate him?”

Mer picked at the silk nightgown she presumed Levay changed her into. “He took something precious from me.”

“To my knowledge, you’ve never met.” Her gaze was shrewd.

Mer wished she hadn’t met the king. “And yet he still managed to destroy my life.”

“Because of the arranged marriage?”

“Something like that.”

“Did you not choose this path?”

Mer smiled bitterly. “I was given an ultimatum. Marriage to your son was the lesser of two evils.”

The dowager queen walked across the room and stood before Mer, smelling of lilacs.

She appraised her, making Mer want to shift, but she kept her head held high.

“You have demons haunting you, but you’re not the only one to suffer.

We need your healers, but not enough to keep you alive if you try to kill the king again. You are replaceable.”

“You threaten the queen?” Mer murmured. That was bold.

“It’s not a threat but a promise. You almost took my son from me. It won’t happen again.” The dowager queen cupped Mer’s cheek, her hand surprisingly warm. “I had hoped we’d be friends, daughter. Test me again, and I’ll be the last thing you see in this world.”

Mer grinned at the vicious older woman. She liked the way the dowager queen was no-nonsense. “Understood... Mum .”

The older woman smirked. “A sense of humor... you’ll need it here.” She dropped her hand and stepped away. “Be prepared. You have a special dinner tonight to attend. Those of the Onyx Palace wish to celebrate your nuptials.”

“Oh, those? The ones I never attended?”

“Your lady’s maids will be here shortly.”

“My handmaidens?”

The dowager queen laughed. “After your little display? Do you really think we’d let more Sirenidae into the palace?” With that, she exited the room and closed the door behind her, leaving only the scent of her lilac perfume.

What just happened?

And who the hell was killing fishermen?