Zale

"Sweetheart! Did I know you were coming?" my mother asked as she swept out of her conference room. I frowned at her. She didn't normally ask questions like that – not my mother, who always knew her schedule and every detail I'd ever told her about mine.

"Surprise visit. You okay?" I asked, noting the furrow of her brow and the places where her hair pins had slid out of place. She didn't look as put together today, and it was enough to send a chill down my spine.

But before my eyes, my mother squared her shoulders and fixed me with a very direct sort of look, one that had me dismissing my concerns. This was the mother I knew and loved. "Don't you worry about me, Zale. I'm fine. Will you still be here for dinner?"

I didn't miss the way her eyes darted back toward the conference room she had just been in, and I knew she must have rushed out before they were done. That, too, was very unusual. Usually, decorum came first – even with her own son. At least, it did when we were out in the public part of the castle. "Yeah, I'll be here for dinner."

"Yes," my mother hissed under her breath.

The warmth of fondness swelled in my chest. Gods, I missed my mother when I was away. I dipped into a courtly bow and smirked at her. "Yes, I would be delighted to stay for dinner, Mother."

Her eyes twinkled at me. "Good. Then we can speak more later." She nodded at me and left.

I set off for my destination – the library – and was nearly there before I realized the strangest part about our whole interaction. I had felt an unusual variety of emotions during what was a very short conversation. I should have been exhausted by any amount of social contact. I should have been yearning for my bed and ruing the mission that had sent me here when I should have been enjoying a lazy Saturday. Instead, I was feeling almost... normal.

I shook off the thought and strode into the library.

I stood just inside the doorway for a few moments, taking in the space where I had spent so many hours growing up. This had been where I met with countless tutors, though you wouldn't know it now. The freestanding chalkboard had been removed, along with the lectern and desk. The only hint that this had been a classroom at all was the small patch of worn carpet where I'd scuffed my shoes for hours during the more boring lectures.

My home base within the library might be gone, but I still knew the rest of the place like it was my second home. So, I didn't need to seek out a librarian or go to the old card catalogue. I walked straight to one of the far end of the library, a few rows down, where books about beings from other realms were kept. It was a small section since those kinds of books were hard to find and no one who managed a merfolk library would perceive much use value to these particular tomes anyway.

I didn't mind. These would at least give me a start.

I took out the thickest volume we had on fae and tucked it under my arm. The books here were meant to be checked out so they could be tracked, but no way was I doing that. Besides, the odds of getting scolded for this were low. No one wanted to land themselves on the bad side of the sole prince and heir to the kingdom. I wasn't above taking advantage of that when it suited me.

On my way out, I snagged one more book. Then I went to my suite and shut myself away until dinnertime.

--

"What brings you here?" my mother asked as she delicately cut her filet.

"A man can't miss his mother?" I asked.

She laughed lightly. "A man can. But I asked why you came."

Well, she had to find out eventually. It would probably be best if she started making arrangements now. I set down my fork and knife, prompting my mother to do the same. I had her full attention.

Good. I didn't want to have to explain this twice.

"I met someone," I began.

Mom gasped and shook her head in confusion. "You can't mean-" She cut herself off before she finished, but it was obvious what she meant. You can't mean romantically. Not so soon.

I shrugged, because it was a little yes and a little no. Better to be as direct as possible. "There's a fae man who says I'm his soulmate."

If my mother had been shocked before, it was nothing to now. She didn't move at all for several long seconds, not even to breathe or to blink. Then she said, "Could he be mistaken? Or lying? I'm not sure you always remember this, but you are a prince, dear. There are those who would do much worse than lie to be with you." Her tone was thoughtful and I could tell she was torn between handling this delicately and snapping into full-blown mom mode.

"It's real, Mom," I said quietly. There was no doubt in my mind. At first whatever Fen had done to make me feel like... like... like I loved him...

At first, that stunt had seemed like some kind of cruel trickery. It had seemed impossible that I could suddenly feel for someone what I remembered feeling for Harlow in our early days. That breathless excitement that made my veins feel like they were humming in pleasure, the electric feeling when I caught sight of him or even when I sensed him near me, the urge to be closer that was so strong it felt like a need...

Feelings couldn't just flash into existence like that, or so I had thought. But then I read about the different branches of fae magic, and the text had said there were Seelie who could do bond magic. They could light up bonds between people, but they could not create them. And after I made a shaky, desperate search through the book to figure out how to differentiate between Seelie and Unseelie fae, it had been obvious that Fen fell into the former category.

So, yeah... Fen had been telling me the truth.

My mother examined me with obvious concern, and I knew she could see too much of what I was feeling. After what felt like several minutes, she finally gave a little nod. "Okay. It's real."

I sullenly stabbed a fork into my food, though any appetite I'd had was gone. I stabbed it again, and then again. I only stopped because my mother was staring at me, nibbling her lip like she did only when she was trying extremely hard not to say something.

"What?"

She sighed. "What are you planning to do about this?"

I shrugged, but I knew the answer. "You should start making arrangements for him to become my consort. I imagine people are going to have all kinds of opinions about this. Better start getting them used to the idea now."

My mother blinked and I knew I had shocked her. "But-" she cut herself off before fully voicing her protest.

"But?" I prompted.

She pushed her plate away, and I could have kicked myself for bringing this up before we were done eating. It was one thing for me to skip a meal; it was quite another for my inconsideration to have my mother going hungry. "Harlow," was all she said, and her voice came out in a whisper.

My heart writhed in my chest. But Harlow, indeed.

Couldn't she see, that's why this mattered? It should have been easy to dismiss Fen and whatever claim he thought he had over me. So easy. Instead, I couldn't escape from the incontrovertible fact that this would have made Harlow happy.

He was never a jealous man. No one's heart was as big as his, and he had fretted often during his final months about leaving me alone. "Promise me you'll find someone else," he would demand. "Promise me, or I'm haunting you."

"Easy," I remembered responding. "I swear I'll never love again. Try threatening me with something bad next time." Because if he couldn't haunt me, then he would just be gone. And I hadn't had a real concept of how much his passing would hurt me, but I'd understood it would be hard to survive. I would have taken any path that meant he was still a presence in my life.

Harlow hadn't thought I was remotely amusing. "Zee, I mean it. I can't stand thinking about you wallowing for the rest of your life."

And how could I say no to him, with tears glistening in eyes that were pleading with me to give in? Especially when I understood. If our roles were reversed – and Gods, I wished they were – then I would want him to move on, too. Maybe I couldn't come out and demand it like Harlow was, since I could be a jealous, selfish ass... but in my heart, I would want that for him.

So I had said, "I promise," and sealed it with a kiss.

"Zale?"

I startled and looked to my mother, who was frowning at me. "What?"

"Are you okay?" she asked.

I realized I had never answered her question. "Yeah. I'm doing this for Harlow, Mom. You knew him."

That was as much of an explanation as I could get out, but my mother looked down at her hands with glistening eyes and nodded, so I knew she understood.

She took a few moments to compose herself, and it was like watching an artist at work. After a soft exhale of breath, she lengthened her spine and rolled her shoulders back, then lifted her head and chin. She was like a marionette, I thought. I could easily imagine invisible threads drawing her up, it was all done so neatly and with such precision. I had learned how to carry myself, but my mother was a master.

"I'll start the preparations tomorrow," she said.

"Thanks."

I took a small bite of the salmon on my plate, hoping that my mother would start eating again if I did. After a brief pause during which I was sure I could feel her eyes studying me, she slid her plate back into place. We finished our meals in silence.

--

I meant to leave right after dinner, but the idea of going back out into the vast, dark ocean made me feel too small just then. Instead, I lingered for after-dinner drinks, and let the cozy atmosphere of the little sitting area we moved to wrap around me. I was sprawled over a chaise that wasn't quite long enough, while my mother had settled into an armchair with her feet pulled up. She leaned against the high, plush side of the chair and stared into the glass she held with both hands.

"I'm glad you came home today," she said softly after a long stretch of comfortable silence.

I shifted so I could see her better. "Yeah?"

Her eyes flicked up to mine. "I'm glad you're taking some time to pursue your dreams. Of course I am. I've only ever wanted you to be happy, Zale. But I miss you when you're gone, and it's hard not to worry."

"You don't need to worry about me, Mom."

"You'll have children someday, and then you'll understand," she said softly. "It's impossible not to worry."

I sighed. This had been the hardest part of leaving – knowing my mother would be down here, alone and fretting over me. It had been a while since I felt the weight of that, and I didn't like it. Not for the first time, I thought that I was better off numb to the world. "Well, you won't have to worry for much longer. I'm going to have to come back soon, aren't I?"

And though I had known she would agree with me, I didn't expect the strength of her reaction. My mother's eyes slid away from me, but not fast enough. I caught the conflict in them. It had me sitting up as nerves swarmed through me. "Mom?"

"My advisors are getting worried, and it's getting harder to explain your absence to our nobility and our allies. We were able to frame it as a diplomatic mission and an opportunity to learn about other cultures, but it's been years, Zale, and if you don't come home soon, I fear we'll have a hard time convincing everyone you're ready to take my place."

I knew all this, but I didn't want to hear it.

Harlow and I had been preparing to move back in the next couple of years. I wasn't stupid; I knew I needed to start apprenticing with my mother. As her only heir, if something happened to her before I was ready to step up, I could send our country to ruin. I knew this, and yet...

I sighed. No use thinking about things that couldn't be.

"Let me finish the school year. Then I'll come back."

She flinched. "I'm sorry, Zale."

"I know."

It really wasn't my mother's fault. She had been expressly forbidden by our healers to have more children and she had to pass her crown to someone. I was all she had.

I laid back down on my chaise and tried to sort through what I was feeling. I was upset, of course. I didn't want to leave my job. I didn't want to come back here, where my comportment mattered so much. I had no patience for politics and dreaded having to act the diplomat.

And that wasn't even getting into the gnawing worry I couldn't escape – the worry that people might find out that my siren magic had deserted me before I fixed it.

I sighed as the weight of all my worries bore down on me and resigned myself to staying the night in the castle. The library had to have books on siren magic. I couldn't ask anyone to help me get my magic back, since word getting out could be disastrous. So, I'd just have to figure this out myself, and soon.