Youngest Son of the Water King – 2. The queen and the purple mermaids

We need to cover the mirror with something! It felt like her rival was about to burst into the room from the looking glass.

There was no blanket, no scarf, not even a rag. There was nothing to cover the mirror with. Then we must order him to look somewhere else.

Look? Is a mirror a looking eye?

“Did you find the spy’s eye?“The king’s pleasant tenor asked.

Desdemona turned around hastily. Moran seemed to have just climbed the wall and entered through the window. The door was definitely not open.

“Do you ever get any sleep?” Desdemona was upset. She was sure Moran was in his royal bedroom.

“I have plenty to do besides sleep,” he said.

“But your ring is sleepy!”

“When I gave it to you, I didn’t think you could so easily conspire with it to take you on excursions while I was distracted by business.”

“You’ll be more careful with your gifts,” Desdemona reached up to brush her neck. The pearls were digging too hard into her skin. Moran noticed it, too, and was not pleased.

“You’re trying to tie me to the throne with pearl chains,” she rebuked. “That’s clever! I am a queen under compulsion. The moment I leave the royal chambers, they dig into my skin.”

“I can’t get them off,” he admitted.

“You can pry them out with a knife.”

“It would be difficult and painful, and they would go under the skin, leaving pitted scars.”

“Then don’t! Let’s just hope they come off on their own.”

“Don’t risk running away from me. It’s not like I’m hurting you. I’m a monster, but I haven’t touched you.”

“Maybe you should have.” Desdemona wrapped her arm around his waist and shuddered, feeling the strangeness of his body. She wished he hadn’t put his tentacles around her throat and started strangling her.

The mirror again showed a quiet pool full of mermaids, her rivals.

Moran’s lips were as cold as frosted glass. His body was even colder. It was like she was hugging an iceberg.

“Drink first!” Moran pulled a blue vial out of thin air. “You’ll be too cold next to a sea creature if this elixir doesn’t warm you from the inside out.”

“And every time I want to hold you?”

“It is until you get used to it.”

“Can you get used to something as magical as you?”

“You get used to anything over the centuries.”

“In centuries, I’ll be dead. It is unless you have the elixir of immortality.”

“I may not have it, but I know someone who does.”

One sip from the vial sent such a pleasant heat through her body as if she were basking in the hot summer sun. Moran’s embrace didn’t seem icy now. No wonder why he favored his dragon friend. If she had a fire raging inside of her, she wouldn’t be cold next to a waterman. But watermen can’t tolerate fire. So how did Moran hook up with the fire lady?

“You found all of my mother’s jewelry boxes,” Moran pulled out a set made of unusual stones that seemed to reflect the waves from a pile of jewelry. “Only sirens have them.”

“Where did Princess of Aquilania get them from? Is it from the water king? Then why didn’t she take them to the bottom with her? Does Lilophea come back here sometimes?

“She used to, but not to this room. I think she’s forgotten about all this jewelry by now. They’re rightfully yours, since you found them here.”

Desdemona took the jewelry from his hands, wanted to try them on, and heard voices. The beads, each of which seemed to contain the sea, were whispering among themselves. Once they were around her neck, they moved like snakes trying to strangle her.

“She is not our mistress!” They hissed unhappily.

“It’s only in the beginning,” Moran said comfortingly. They’ll get used to you in time and even give you new abilities. You’ll be able to understand the whispers of the waves or walk on water, for example.”

The promise was tempting, but she’d had enough of the living pearls.

“No more presents!” Desdemona put the jewelry back. “All gifts from the watermen would not end well.”

She brushed the inflamed skin around the pearls she had recently tried to forge out. The maids of honor were jealous of her new jewelry, enthusiastic about its enormous cost and the beauty of the pearls, not even realizing how burdensome they were.

“They are not gifts, but parasites,” complained Desdemona.

“They wouldn’t have gotten into your skin if you hadn’t traveled too far from the palace.”

“But now I’m here, and they keep coming.”

“They probably suspect you strongly of rebellion and flight.”

“It is too bad you can’t get along with them like you can with a ring.”

“You can scald them and take them off, but it’ll hurt. I’d better get you one of Ariana’s ointments.”

“Who’s Ariana?”

“She is the White Fairy of the Waves. She’s known for her magical tinctures. She’s also known as the sea fairy. She flies above the waves and dives deep to gather herbs for her potions. She has a cure for everything in her arsenal.”

A wave fairy! It sounds mysterious and romantic. Desdemona imagined a delightful creature with wings, floating above the waves and flirting with the sea prince.

“What do sea fairies look like?”

“The same as all fairies,” Moran shrugged. “But they’re not as colorful as the fairies of groves, forests, and gardens.”

“If I’d ever seen garden fairies in my life!” She said indignantly. “In our garden pond lived only hideous divas, as you have seen for yourself. Not one good fairy.”

“Fairies are not kind,” Moran objected. “Ariana, for instance, loves to trap ship captains. But I can always negotiate with her. She has an arsenal of magic potions for her friends.”

“She’s a friend of yours?”