Princess of Mermaids Read online

  Princess of Mermaids

  Fairy Tale Adventures Book Three

  A.G. Marshall

  Avanell Publishing

  For Aunt Cindy

  And all my sisters

  (in the mermaid sense of the word)

  Contents

  Map of Myora

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Epilogue

  Free Short Stories

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Map of Myora

  1

  “Don’t dawdle, Fiora.”

  The King of Kell pushed past his daughter and strode up the gangplank to his ship. Fiora glared at him. She hated the way his bright red beard flowed in the wind. It matched her own red hair perfectly, and that had ruined everything.

  In spite of her father’s warning, she stopped walking and turned for one last look at Aeonia. The royal castle glistened in the sunlight, showing no trace of the conflict that had just passed. No trace of goblins and shadows and rumors of war.

  Fiora gritted her teeth. Blast them all, she had been so close! If they had followed the rules instead of letting an impostor waltz in and take the throne, she would be engaged to Prince Alaric right now.

  She would be free.

  “Get on the ship, Fiora! I won’t ask again.”

  Something warm rolled down Fiora’s cheek, and she hastily brushed it away. She wasn’t the sort to cry. Blasted tear. Even her own eyes were turning against her.

  She glanced around the dock to make sure no one had seen the treacherous tear and scowled when she realized someone had.

  King Gustave of Montaigne watched her with concern in his gray eyes. Fiora glared to warn him away, but he approached her with a cautious smile.

  “Are you well, Princess?”

  “Fine. Wonderful.”

  Her accent was always stronger when she was upset, and it was positively lilting now. The strain of keeping her magic contained made the words shrill even to her own ears.

  Fiora turned to walk away and tripped on a loose board. She stumbled, and King Gustave caught her arm with a steady hand. She looked up at him as he helped her regain her balance.

  “Princess Fiora, I would be honored to assist you however I can.”

  His gentle eyes showed none of the contempt the other royals gave her. It was probably his youth. He was about her own age, although his neatly trimmed beard made it difficult to tell. Fiora suspected he had grown it for that very reason. He was young to be king, and the beard made him look more distinguished.

  She met his compassionate gaze, and another tear rolled down her cheek. She jerked her arm away from him.

  “I said I’m fine.”

  She couldn’t afford to show weakness now. Fiora walked up the gangplank without looking back and went straight to her father’s cabin. There was no point delaying the inevitable. He’d summon her there soon enough.

  She paused outside the door to remove her shoe and pull a pearl ring off her toe. She could wear it normally again now that she didn’t have to match all the other girls in the Princess Test. Fiora quickly shoved the ring onto her finger. She wiggled her toes, stretching them out and enjoying the freedom before she put her shoe back on. At least it fit properly now that she wasn’t squeezing her pearl ring into it. At least she wouldn’t have to fight every moment to keep from wincing or scowling from the pain.

  Fiora had delayed long enough. She pushed open the door and entered her father’s study. King Fergal sat at his desk writing a letter. He didn’t look up, so Fiora sank into a chair in the corner. She studied her ring while she waited. The pearl had lost some of its luster. Most of it, in fact. The luminous surface had gone dull.

  This was bad.

  The ship cast off, and the hateful land of Aeonia faded into the horizon. Fiora watched through a porthole, glad to be rid of the place that had so thoroughly rejected her.

  When the mountains were nothing more than a thin line on the edge of the ocean, her father crumpled his letter around a rock, tied a piece of twine around it, and threw it out the porthole. Then he turned to her.

  “That was badly done, Fiora. You mangled things from start to finish.”

  “I would have won if they followed the rules of the Princess Test. I won the contests. Prince Alaric should have chosen me.”

  “A lot of good that does us now.”

  Her father’s voice was calm, and that worried Fiora more than anything else that had happened so far. He should be yelling. He should be furious.

  “There will be other Princess Tests, Father. I’ve mastered all the traditional skills. I’ll win next time.”

  “We had a deal, Fiora. There won’t be a next time.”

  Fiora fought the urge to shrink back and kept her head high.

  “I was closer this time than ever. Give me one more chance.”

  “No more chances, Fiora. You agreed to the deal, and you’ll keep your end of the bargain.”

  Blast. She had only made that bargain because she was certain she could win Prince Alaric’s hand. Because she had devoted her every waking moment to practicing skills for the competition and was confident she would be the best.

  “Look on the bright side. At least you won’t have to embroider any more cushions.”

  “I like embroidery.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  His tone said she was being unreasonable. Fiora bristled.

  “I was the best, wasn’t I? It’s not fair! I won!”

  “Fiora, it’s time to face the fact that no one wants you. You’ve lost several Princess Tests in spite of your superior skills. Elspeth is of age now. Perhaps she’ll have better luck wooing a king. Kell needs an ally, and our options are limi
ted.”

  “How limited? Father what do you have planned?”

  Instead of answering, King Fergal stood and gestured for Fiora to follow. She sulked a few steps behind him, delaying as much as she dared. Small acts of disobedience were all you could get away with around her father. She’d learned that the hard way.

  The King of Kell stood on the deck of the ship, looking out at the open sea. In spite of herself, Fiora smiled a little as the sea breeze sweep over her face. She always felt free when sailing.

  “An arranged match it is then,” she said. “I agreed to let you choose for me if I couldn’t secure a husband on my own, and I’ll honor my word.”

  Her father glanced at her, and something gleamed in his eyes. Was that compassion? Fiora’s heart beat faster. This was worse than she expected.

  “Is he noble?” she asked. “You could at least tell me a little about him.”

  He stayed silent. The King of Kell never stayed silent. Fiora fought back the panic building in her chest and tried to sound calm.

  “Is he old, then? I expect he’s ancient, rich, and common. A wealthy ally would do as much good as a noble one.”

  Her father still wouldn’t meet her gaze. Fiora swallowed and stared at the waves.

  “What’s wrong with him, Father? What’s so wrong with him that he is willing to accept me?”

  “I haven’t chosen someone for you to marry, Fiora. No one would have you. I said I would choose your next placement, not your next husband, and I’ve done that.”

  Something broke the surface of the water. Something sharp and black. King Fergal hummed a soft tune, and Fiora gasped.

  “Father, no.”

  “Elspeth doesn’t stand a chance with you around reminding everyone how very undesirable the royal family of Kell is considered. It’s time for you to go home and get out of her way.”

  Fiora glanced down at her ring. The pearl was a blank white orb. All the luster had gone. Her breath caught in her throat as a sharp pain pierced her feet and traveled up her legs.

  “Father, please don’t send me away. I’ll work harder. I’ll do anything.”

  The King of Kell watched the boiling water with a stern expression. The hint of compassion in his eyes had disappeared.

  “How could you? I’m your daughter as much as Elspeth is!”

  A song echoed through the wind, and more fins pierced the waves. Fiora shoved her father aside and sprinted across the ship.

  She wasn’t fast enough. An enormous tentacle shot out from the water and wrapped around her waist.

  Fiora screamed as it lifted her off the ship and pulled her beneath the waves.

  2

  A few weeks later…

  “If I may say so, Your Majesty, that was an absolute disaster.”

  Marquis Corbeau held his long, white beard in place with one hand to keep it from blowing in the sea wind.

  The other hand gestured to the wreckage that had once been the kingdom of Santelle’s harbor and royal palace.

  King Gustave of Montaigne wished he could disagree with his advisor, but Marquis Corbeau was right. Gustave had done his best to help Princess Carina and Prince Stefan save the day during the recent kraken attack, but things had not gone smoothly.

  They sailed past the wreckage of the Onslaught, and Gustave winced. The kraken had swept away the mast and smashed holes in the sides. It would be a long time before Santelle’s greatest ship was seaworthy again.

  “I suppose it could have been worse,” Gustave said. “At least the kraken didn’t level the entire palace.”

  “I’m not talking about the kraken attack. I’m talking about Princess Carina!”

  Gustave shrugged. The movement sent pain shooting down his left arm, which had been injured in the recent fight. He winced, which made his head ache where a falling rock had hit it.

  Both his head and arm were bandaged, but rather roughly. Santelle didn’t believe in coddling people. The castle’s doctor was a retired ship surgeon who had proclaimed Gustave’s injuries nothing to be concerned about, wrapped him in bandages, and sent him on his way.

  Gustave realized that Marquis Corbeau expected a reply.

  “Carina’s punishment was harsh, but I think she’ll be happy with Stefan.”

  Marquis Corbeau narrowed his eyes.

  “Stop deliberately misunderstanding me, Your Majesty. You were supposed to marry her yourself. Instead, she’s sailing into the sunset with a hedgehog-haired second son of Aeonia.”

  Gustave smirked at this description of Stefan, and Marquis Corbeau’s scowl deepened.

  “This is not amusing, Your Majesty. Now I will have to start the search for a suitable wife for you all over again. There are only so many eligible young ladies available. You can’t keep rejecting them out of hand if you want to be married by your birthday.”

  “I don’t want to be married by my birthday.”

  Gustave turned away from the wreckage on the shore and looked to the open sea. To temporary freedom, if Marquis Corbeau would give him a moment’s peace. As long as Kathelin and the mermaids upheld their end of the bargain, there would be no more kraken attacks.

  But that didn’t mean the damage from past ones would magically disappear. When they reached Montaigne, Gustave would be thrown back into the chaos of life as king. He wished Marquis Corbeau would let him have a few moments of peace before he began to rebuild the country and sort through the aftermath.

  But the marquis wasn’t finished.

  “Your Majesty, marriage is an essential part of your responsibilities as king. Why are you being so stubborn?”

  “I want to find my father before I marry. Before my duties as a suitor and husband take my focus away from the search, or my time spent searching takes me away from my future bride. Is that so bad?”

  Marquis Corbeau clucked in disapproval.

  “Your Majesty, this ill-conceived quest for your father must stop.”

  Gustave glared at his advisor and raised his ring to his lips.

  “Find King Francois.”

  The magical ruby sparked to life and shone a light towards the horizon. The ring could track anyone that Gustave had personally met as long as they were alive. So if it tracked his father, King Francois must still be alive.

  Except the light had led every search party it guided on a wild goose chase. Months of searching had yielded no results. His father had been missing for nearly a year, and Gustave had not found a single trace of him.

  Marquis Corbeau gave up on Gustave and stalked over to question the ship’s captain about their course. Captain Whist tilted his enormous hat at Gustave in a salute and proceeded to distract the marquis by pretending to implement his suggestions to speed their journey home.

  Gustave pulled a small shell from his pocket and turned it over in his hand. Carina had given it to him after Kathelin the mermaid gave it to her. It must do something. Maybe something magical? It had a few markings carved into it, but as far as Gustave could tell, they were merely decorations.

  He leaned over and stared into the water, hoping to see Kathelin and have her confirm that the kraken were under control now that the mermaids had the magic gem in their possession. The mermaids’ behavior had been erratic. They had attacked and protected humans seemingly on a whim. Stolen from them and given gifts in return. Gustave wanted a chance to get to know them better. Perhaps they could become allies.

  A flash of red caught Gustave’s eye. He squinted at the water. Was something down there after all?

  For a moment, he saw a mermaid shining in a sunbeam. Long, coppery hair billowed around her like a cloak.

  Then a wave swept over her, and she disappeared into the depths.

  3

  “Madame Isla, that’s a fork. Humans use them to eat.”

  Fiora crossed her arms over her scaly chest and reminded herself for the thousandth time that she wasn’t naked. Mermaid bodies were covered in scales, and their hair floated over them like cloaks in the water. No one wore clot
hes.

  She still felt naked.

  Fiora sucked water through her gills and told herself that this was normal and she was fine. She had spent the first thirteen years of her life as a mermaid. She would adjust.

  If only she actually believed that.

  Madame Isla swished the fork through the water, creating a small trail of bubbles that floated up towards the ceiling.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, girl. This is obviously a human hair comb.”

  She ran the fork through her long, white tresses to prove her point.

  “It’s a fork,” Fiora repeated. “Humans use them to put food in their mouths.”

  She mimed eating with a fork, not caring that this argument was ridiculous. It just felt good to argue with someone. To be right and know the answer for once.

  Madame Isla, the mermaid’s top scholar of humans, was overseeing the categorization of the unprecedented amount of human objects that littered the ocean floor as a result of the recent kraken attacks and subsequent shipwrecks.