Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
There was a shimmery quality to her skin that must have been a mermaid trait, along with a small smattering of pearlescent scales up near her hairline, and what at first appeared to be scars on the sides of her throat, but logic told him must be where her gills would be when in the water.
He fully understood why everyone was gawking, why they were taking out their cameras to snap pictures. He never wanted to look away.
Belatedly, he remembered to rise to his feet and offer her a smile.
“Iris?” he asked. As if there would possibly be another incredibly rare mermaid in the same restaurant.
She opened her mouth to speak.
But just as she did, her foot wobbled.
Then she was falling, quite literally, right into him.
His arms went out automatically, wrapping around her. He was overwhelmed with salt water and citrus—the scent that seemed to cling to every inch of Iris. He couldn’t help but notice how her body seemed to perfectly melt against his—all her soft curves against his hard lines.
Iris’s arms had gone to his arms, fingers grabbing the material of his shirt. It conjured up images of her hands peeling it off of him, of her eyes bright with desire and—
No.
He couldn’t let his mind go there.
This wasn’t even meant to be a real marriage. At least, that wasn’t how Henry pitched it to him.
“It’s all on paper, of course,” had been his exact words. “Unless the two of you want there to be more.”
“You all right?” Finn asked, wondering if Iris could hear the breathlessness of his voice just then. Because he could hear it. Loud and clear.
This wasn’t supposed to feel like … anything. This was meant to be a diplomatic move. A photo op. A partnership on paper with clear political boundaries. He wasn’t supposed to notice her curves pressed to his chest and imagine … anything else.
Yet for one mindless moment, his body betrayed him.
He cleared his throat.
He needed to focus.
Be charming.
Ask questions.
Don’t ogle the mermaid.
“Yes. Yes, of course,” Iris said, stiffening and pulling away.
He’d heard stories about the voices of mermaids. They’d never been described on the same level as sirens, but it was said that there was a certain sweetness and a sing-song quality that made you want to lean closer to hear more.
Finn pulled away before he could do something that absurd.
“I’m still … getting used to my land legs.”
Finn reached to pull out her chair, getting pinched brows from Iris, who was likely not familiar with the human custom. Or, you know, chairs. After a moment, she slid in so he could move to his side and sit.
“I’m so glad you were willing to meet with me today.”
For just a moment, there was a flash of something across her face. It was sharp and cutting. But gone so quickly that Finn was almost sure he’d imagined it.
When Iris spoke, it was almost as if her voice got even sweeter, more musical.
“Oh, of course. I have so many plans for our courtship.”
He wasn’t sure why, but Finn felt like he’d somehow just stepped into some sort of trap.
Though he was relatively sure that he wouldn’t mind being trapped with someone like Iris.
Or so he thought at the moment.
3
Iris
“You are so lucky.” Shelly punctuated the statement with a disarmingly effective pout. Iris had stopped falling for the look ever since the whole octopus incident that had left her punished for a month and Shelly walking free, despite being just as guilty as her big sister.
“Yes. So lucky. Who wouldn’t want to be bartered off to a stranger? A human, nonetheless.”
“You can’t say things like that,” Juna, Iris and Shelly’s older sister—the heir to the throne—scolded. “Not on land, anyway. It sounds speciesist.”
Juna held out Iris’s bag.
“If Iris screws this up, can I marry the human?” Shelly asked.
“She’s not going to screw anything up. And that is not appropriate language for a princess. You know you are too young to marry.”
“Can I at least go with Iris? She knows nothing about the land or people.”
“And you do?”
“I’ve been studying them my whole life.”
Shelly might have been one for dramatics, but on this, at least, she was telling the truth. Shelly was constantly missing dinners, parties, and important council meetings because she got so engrossed with watching the humans at the beach.
Iris suspected that Shelly might have even done more than merely watching from the water. Sisterly affection kept her from tattling to their mother. Even if she did worry that Shelly idolized people that she couldn’t possibly relate to, the way she did to the other merfolk.
“Mother wants you nowhere near the land,” Juna said. Her chin lifted in that regal way that reminded Iris so much of their mother.
“It’s like she wants us to suffer,” Shelly grumbled. She threw herself backward, arms folded over her chest.