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Chapter Thirty-Two

MER

Mer scooped up the linens and walked away from the king with victory in her soul.

But her smugness didn’t last long as the scent of burning bodies became almost overwhelming when she reached the pyre. She handed the linens off to the nearest man, whose face was covered in sweat and ash. She backed away from the raging heat, feeling sick to her stomach.

The men handling the bodies had all stopped wearing masks, feeling as if it were a futile form of protection. Mer scraped her hand through her hair and jogged away from the village to the sea. The tide was coming in, the waves crashing hard against the black sand.

She wiggled her toes into the wet sand, rooting herself. A gasp flew past her lips as the cold water rushed past her legs, rising to mid-calf. In the time since she’d stumbled into the village of Vierla, she’d aged years.

Sickness ran rampant among the people.

Fevers, delusions, vomiting, and sores.

Then came the convulsions and eventually death.

Mer dropped to a crouch as the water receded, breathing hard, head hanging between her knees. The disease moved quickly. Once contracted, in five days someone could be dead. She stood as the next wave rolled in, staring at the darkening sky. They’d already lost a Sirenidae healer.

It had been violent.

And scarring.

She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the image of the Sirenidae’s sore-covered face with sightless eyes.

The ocean was brutal, it’s true, but their people were careful in their endeavors. Most of the Sirenidae lived hundreds of years. Between their healers, herbs, hearty constitution, and respect for life, it was unusual to lose someone from disease or to an accident.

And the healer had been young.

Tears sprang into Mer’s eyes, grief welling for the life lost.

The wind picked up, and Mer wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her palms up and down against the chill. She stared out at the dark water. While she wasn’t a healer, Mer had learned a lot during her marriage to Ream. A pang of loss ran through her at the reminder.

Focus, Mer.

Every disease had a cause.

And a cure.

The five Sirenidae healers that had been stationed here had already used many of their concoctions on the ill. None had worked. It gave those sick a little bit of reprieve but did nothing to extend their lives.

This new disease had originated in this village.

Mer wanted to know why.

It was a very clean town with little to no imports.

The village of Vierla was isolated and self-sufficient.

Just what had caused the sickness?

She sighed, watching the water.She began to hum a new tune that had been stuck in her head, not able to remember where she’d heard it before.

It was very possible that there was a cure in the ocean.

They just needed to figure out how to get to it.

Since her arrival in Vierla, she’d been trying to build up her tolerance to the cold water. Every morning and night, she’d plunge into the sea and explore until her limbs began to give out. It was harrowing and miserable, but necessary.

Icy tingles ran up her heels and Mer forced herself to walk away from the ocean. As much as she wanted to dive into the water and begin searching for herbs, Mer wouldn’t be able to see anything at night, nor last longer than five minutes in the cold water without the sun to warm it.

She walked from the beach, sand rubbing in between her toes as she made her way to the home she’d been given to stay in.

Movement caught her eye to the right.

Her fiilee was perched on a nearby outcropping of rocks watching Mer.

“Go home,” she called to the beast. “I’m going to bed. I’ve no use for you.”

As if the feline understood her, the fiilee stood and dropped down to the sand, prowling to Mer. She rubbed her snout against Mer’s side and huffed out a rumbling purr.

Mer ran her fingers through the silky fur between the creature’s ears and then turned to hug the fiilee around the neck briefly. “I’ll miss you too,” she whispered. Mer stepped away and the feline loped off into the dark.

Since she arrived, Mer hadn’t met many people, but none had been a true friend. Her fiilee was probably the only creature she could trust. It was a sad realization.

Mer stomped her feet outside the wooden door, wiped them on a faded woven rug, and stepped inside, trying not to drown in her morose thoughts.

It was harder and harder not to sink into a depression she wasn’t sure she could claw her way back from.

Working with the healers was a blessing of sorts.

It kept her so busy she didn’t have time to think about her problems.

She hung her mask on the peg by the door and smiled at the roaring fire. The people were really too kind to her.

The stone house was one rectangular room with a loft above.

The fireplace was directly across from the door.

A simple kitchen lay to the right with an old circular table and two well-used chairs.

And to the left was a small tub with actual warm water fed from the hot springs.

In the corner between the fireplace and the tub was a rustic bed made from driftwood.

It was perfect.

Mer padded over to the tub and turned the water on, running her fingers underneath until it reached the right temperature.

She smiled as she spied a plate on the small counter.

Bread, cheese, and smoked fish. Her stomach rumbled as she popped some salted fish into her mouth, followed by a chunk of creamy cheese.

She’d have to thank Isla somehow. The woman was in charge of caring for the Sirenidae, and she was a force to be reckoned with.

Mer tore a chunk of heavy bread away from the crusty loaf and munched on it.

Once finished, she dusted her hands off on her ratty skirt and sauntered over to the bathtub, turning the water off.

Peeling her soiled clothes off, she tossed them to the ground and sank into the water. She released a groan as the warm water caressed her skin and loosened her muscles. This was one of the human comforts she could get used to.

Her eyelids slowly slid shut, and she leaned her head against the edge of the tub.

Over the last five days, she’d been cursing herself for not going back to the palace.

Not because she didn’t want to help but because she was stuck here.

Sure, she had wanted to visit this area and gather more information on Ceto.

But no one wanted to talk about old legends when they were fighting for their lives or bone-tired from trying to save lives.

In fact, she’d been so busy over the past few days that as soon as she lay down, she slept deeply. Which was unfortunate because then she was stuck in the nightmares.

Her eyes popped open at the mumble of voices outside.

Mer sat up and clenched the edges of the tub.

Her breaths came fast, and her eyes landed on her pillow where she’d hidden a blade.

Nudity had never been an issue before, but after Keventin’s attack, it had changed something inside her.

She stood just as the door swung open. Mer dropped back down into the tub.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality,” Raziel’s deep voice said.

She shrank even farther into the basin when he stepped inside. His head hung low as he shut the door and leaned back against it, closing his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

The king’s eyes snapped open, all traces of weariness gone. “I thought it was obvious. Going to bed.”

Mer glared at him over the rim of the tub. “That is my bed and this is my home.”

He smirked at her. “And you are my wife, so whatever is yours is also mine.”

The audacity. He pulled his boots and socks off, tossing them by the front door like he owned the place. She gaped at his broad back as he explored the kitchen and even took some of her bread.

“You’re not welcome here,” she hissed.

“Clearly.” He took another bite of the bread. “But as there is no other place to stay, and we are married, this is where I will sleep until it’s safe for us to leave.”

“No.”

“You have no choice.” He sighed, walking over to the fire, completely dismissing her.

She shook as he warmed his hands and then moved to the head of the bed, plumping one of the pillows.

“Don’t you dare.”

Raziel met her gaze, his silver eyes hard. “You put me in this situation. If you hadn’t run away, I wouldn’t have had to look for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“No, you didn’t, but as your husband, it didn’t feel right doing nothing when you could be dead or dying somewhere. What the blazes were you thinking when you tried to claim a bloody fiilee with no training?”

Mer started to tremble. “That you’d trapped me, and I was tired of being a prisoner. I am a daughter of the sea, not some maiden you can lock in your bedroom for your pleasure.”

He barked out a laugh. “Pleasure? What pleasure is there, Mer?” He moved to the end of the bed and yanked the collar of his shirt down to reveal the scar she’d given him.

“Was it when you tried to cut my throat? Or the other time when you tried to tear it out with your bare teeth? How about the time you made a mockery of my court by wearing curtains to your welcoming banquet? Or when you accused me of murdering your husband?”

She trembled harder as he stepped between the tub and the door. Her breath became thready. “Stop.” He was too close. She couldn’t breathe.

He took another step closer. “Stop telling the truth? No. It’s clear neither one of us wanted this marriage, but we had no choice.

I have tried to make you comfortable, and all you have done is literally stab me.

I will no longer make your life easy. I have lied for you, protected you, and made excuses for you.

No more, especially after what happened in Laos.

” He loomed closer. “But what I can’t forgive is your actions with Duke Keventin.

You knew he was important, and you undermined me by trying to kill him in broad daylight? ”