Chapter Nineteen

MER

Duchess Keventin’s salon was cozy.

Mer stood at the glass doors that led outside to the veranda, half listening to the chatter of the ladies. The sound of the ocean was music to her ears. She could taste the salt in the air. Even as goosebumps ran down her arms from the chilly breeze, she couldn’t find it within herself to move.

Huge waves crashed against the cliffs below. She grinned as she spotted luminescent jellyfish floating through the dark water.

Home was calling her.

What she wouldn’t give to swim peacefully among the jellies.

Home was calling her.

“Here, my queen, something to keep you warm,” a familiar honeyed voice said.

Mer turned to Mazie and took the fur cloak and tossed it over her shoulders, the heat enveloping her immediately. “Thank you.”

The duchess had rejoined the group, cleaned up and dressed in a new green gown.

“How old is the duchess?” she asked softly so only Mazie could hear.

“Fourteen.”

Mer’s stomach churned. Just a child. “How long have they been married?” she forced herself to ask.

“For a little over a year.”

Depths below, she was going to be sick.

Mer studied the gathering of women.

Women was generous. They were girls. All fresh-faced and young.

Too young.

“They’re all children.”

Mazie grunted but said nothing else.

Revulsion filled her the longer she stared at the group of girls. “Is this a common practice among your people?” Mer rasped. Half the girls didn’t look old enough to have had their first bleed.

The warrior’s lips thinned. “It’s more common among the highborn than lower classes. You’ll see families sell off their daughters to others, but they’re not married until they come of proper age.”

“And what is proper age?” Her stomach lurched as Lady Keventin caressed her belly.

Trenches bite. No. Please no.

Mazie hesitated for a second. “Fourteen.”

Bile burned the back of Mer’s throat, and she stumbled farther out onto the veranda. Mazie caught her elbow, but Mer shook her off. “Fourteen is too young,” she rasped, clutching the stone railing. “Lady Keventin is with child?”

“She is.” Mazie’s voice was flat.

Mer tilted her head back, staring at the crescent moon that gave just enough light to illuminate the waves in the distance.

“How are you so calm?” she asked fiercely, glaring at Mazie.

The warrior turned lady-in-waiting leveled a heavy gaze upon her. “Don’t mistake my stoicism as acceptance for what is happening. But some things are out of my control, my queen.”

“And your king allows this?”

“It is not for me to judge what my king does and doesn’t do.”

“If the duchess is fourteen, how is it that she’s been married to the duke for a year?”

“Nobles always find a way to get what they want,” Mazie practically growled. Her gaze flickered to the salon and back to Mer. She bowed her head. “Duchess Keventin comes.”

Mer snapped her mouth shut and schooled her expression as the young girl floated to her side, the green silk dress outlining her little protruding belly. The duchess wrapped her arms around herself and stood quietly beside Mer. Mazie melted into the background, leaving them alone.

A shiver wracked the girl, and Mer found herself pulling the cloak from her shoulders and laying it over the young woman’s thin frame.

Lady Keventin’s large brown eyes widened, and she shook her head. “I couldn’t take th-this from you, m-my queen.” A light accent to her voice.

So Mer’s suspicions were right. The duchess was Scythian.

“Nonsense,” Mer replied, securing the clasp at the girl’s throat. “You’re caring for more than yourself.”

“Th-th-thank you.”

“How are you feeling, Your Grace?” Mer asked as the cool air ruffled her short hair, locks falling in her face.

“I am w-well, my queen.”

“How is the sickness?”

The duchess blanched. “F-fine.”

Mer cocked her head. “There’s no wrong answer, my lady. You don’t have to fear me.” She’d had a friend who had a tricky tongue growing up. His stutter always grew worse when he was nervous, scared, or excited. Was this something similar?

A flush crept into the girl’s olive cheeks. “I don’t f-fear you. I’ve been t-ton-tongue-tied since I was a ch-ch-child, my queen.”

“You speak beautifully. Thank you for your words.” She smiled warmly at the girl and took Duchess Keventin’s hand in her own. “I have a feeling we’ll be fast friends. You may call me Mer in private.”

The duchess smiled shyly. “Thank you. I’m Sienna.”

No stutter. It felt like a reward.

Sienna stepped closer to Mer, her gaze flitting from the group of girls and back to Mer’s face. “Th-thank you for what you did, M-mer.”

“I’ve done nothing.” She frowned at Sienna. What was she referring to?

“For Phia. Th-the servant.” The girl shifted on her feet, the cloak dragging on the ground. “You distracted the l-l-lord from his rage.”

Mer squeezed the girl’s frail hand, hate for Duke Keventin burning hot in her gut. “Is he often like that?” she asked softly, trying not to scare the girl.

“If y-y-you get in his way,” she whispered.

“Has he hurt you?” Mer murmured softly, scanning Sienna’s face.

“Not since...” Her hand dropped to her rounded belly. “I’m his th-third wife.”

Mer stiffened but tried to keep her fear and worry for the young woman off her face. Duke Keventin was an abusive brute and quite possibly a murderer. Lady Sienna wasn’t safe, and neither was her unborn child.

“How did you two meet?” Mer asked gently. After all the genetic tampering the Scythians had pursued over the past millennia, they’d almost doomed themselves to extinction. They never let their women leave the country. So how was Sienna here in Methi?

“A long s-s-story, one I d-don’t speak of, my queen.” Her words were firm.

Mer wouldn’t be wheedling the story out of the young duchess this night. She needed more time with the girl to gain her trust. Something was clearly wrong but the poor girl was too afraid to speak up.

She nodded to Sienna. “I understand. There are parts of my past that I would like to forget as well.” She gave the girl a soft smile.

“Our time at your keep is almost up, but I’ve enjoyed your company tonight.

I would like you to come back with me to court once our husbands have concluded their business. ”

Sienna’s eyes widened further. “I-I-I cannot possibly . . .”

“Nonsense. I am the queen. Duke Keventin would never deny my request. Plus, I know humans have confinement, but you can’t possibly be close to that time yet.

” Two birds, one stone. Mer could keep an eye on the duchess’s safety, and gain more information on what the duke was up to.

There was something rotten about Laos Keep and its duke. Mer just needed to find more proof.

A little glimmer of hope filled Sienna’s eyes. “You really wish me t-to go with you?”

“I do.” She squeezed the girl’s hand. “It’s settled, I'll speak with your husband tonight.”

“Thank you, my queen.”

“My pleasure.” Mer smiled at the girl, her chest heavy with the revelations of the evening. “I do have a question about your servant girl. Phia, was it? How long has she been here?”

“Before m-my marriage.”

“And you are . . . close?”

“Phia helps me stay calm when the l-lord loses his temper. She hums for me.”

Part of Mer’s soul bled at the admittance. Just what sort of hell was Duke Keventin’s keep? “Has she said how she came to be here?”

Sienna’s brows furrowed. “No. Phia is mute.”

“Mute?” Mer had never met a mute Sirenidae.

“Yes. Her tongue was cut from her mouth.”

Mer nodded, dropping Sienna’s hand so she didn’t crush the girl’s fingers in her rage.

A Sirenidae’s voice was sacred.

Someone had mutilated Phia’s.

And Mer planned to find out who and return the favor.