I decide to confront Prince Eero right away.

There's no point in sitting around and waiting. He knows who I am, and that changes everything.

But does it really? Eero's been nothing but friendly to me the past few days, but will he act differently when he knows I know? There's a big difference between knowing a secret and knowing everyone else does as well. He gave me the mythos so I could figure this out. That has to be why. Couldn't he have just told me?

Regardless, I have to tell him I know.

Ursus's return is two days away. Everything will change when I confront the advisor. Maybe Eero will stand by my side when I do.

I haphazardly hang up the remaining clothes and dump the water in a corner of the backyard. Dropping the bucket off in a storage closet, I half-run up the stairs to Eero's study. He's not there, though. The lack of guards at the door would have given it away if I hadn't been in such a hurry.

"He ain't here," a voice says from the door behind me. My heart leaps into my throat, and I take a careful step towards the desk as I spin around.

But it's just William, standing in the shadow of the doorframe so that he's partially hidden.

Instantly, I relax. I'm stronger now. If he's feeling vengeful, I can take him. Luckily, for the both of us, he doesn't look angry. With his arms crossed over his chest and his short blonde hair slick with sweat, he just looks tired. Has he been training? In this heat?

"Do you know where he is?" I ask as I dance on my feet. The weight of Eero's revelation feels like a bubble swelling in my chest, ready to explode.

"The garden. He sent me to tell you that, actually. He needs you down there."

"Oh." I nod. Why would Eero send him? Is Magnus not around? "Thanks, William."

Careful not to get too close, I skirt around him and head to the door.

"Wait, Ari—" He reaches a hand out and grabs my arm. His grip isn't hard, but instinct kicks in and I knock him off with a sharp jab. William winces and cradles his wrist.

"Sorry," I mumble. "Kind of."

"No, I earned that one," he says softly. His voice is heavy. Resigned. "Eero didn't just send me to get you."

William takes a single step into the room, and his face is illuminated by the light flooding through the study's window. The sight of him makes me grimace.

A dark line of purple and yellow crosses the bridge of his nose, spreading almost to his ears. Both of his eyes are red and irritated, and his bottom lip is busted. It looks as if William's been in a fight with a horse.

And lost.

"I'm sorry," he blurts, looking away from me.

Seriously? An apology? I cross my arms. "What for?"

He sighs. "For fighting unfairly. I never should have gone for your throat. I just—I didn't..."

"Were you scared I'd win?" I ask. My arms fall limply at my sides.

"No," he growls. But his shoulders slump forward. "Yes. A bit. I—I have some anger issues. Eero knows about them, so I'm not sure why he let you go through with your challenge in the first place. Then, I got carried away and didn't really know what was happening until it was too late. It shouldn't have gone that far."

I exhale loudly and rub the back of my neck. Between training with Eero and cleaning with Amaia, I'd almost forgotten to be mad at him.

"It's fine," I say eventually. "No real harm done."

As I move to leave the room, William reaches towards me again. This time, he stops before making contact and withdraws his fingers into a closed fist. Our eyes meet, green on green. His are pleading. "I mean it, Ari. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," I say, stepping past him. "Just... next time we spar, don't try to kill me?"

He chuckles. "There won't be a next time, hon."

"Sure there will, and you will be thoroughly embarrassed when you lose." I grin at him. "Seriously, though. It's not worth worrying yourself. I'm alive and well, and you've given me a reason to train harder. I should be thanking you."

The grave expression on his face is gone, replaced by one that's lighter and more cheerful. It's the same sort of look he gave Eero that day on the field.

"Regardless of your temper, you really are a solid guard," I continue. "I never meant to get you in trouble either."

"Oh, that was all Eero, don't worry." He straightens up and runs a hand over his cropped hair. "Speaking of the pampered prick, you should go on and meet him. He doesn't like waiting."

I roll my eyes. "Tell me about it."

We share another soft laugh, and it's then that I know William and I could be friends, if the whole strangulation incident wasn't a gaping pit between us. I have anger issues, too. Maybe we could share secrets on how to manage our tempers.

William ushers me out of the door but doesn't follow me down to the garden. He doesn't announce he's leaving either. He just pads silently in the other direction, to his duties elsewhere. I smirk at his receding frame.

Another similarity between humans and merfolk: both of us make mistakes.

And admitting those takes nothing short of a miracle.

It's time to go admit my mistake to the prince and see if he can help me fix it.

Out in the garden, I find Eero reading under one of the massive willow trees. I sit on the grass beside him, careful not to make any noise.

The past four days have taught me a lot about being in his company.

The most important thing I've learned is that he loves his silence as much as I do. When we eat breakfast, he stares up at the clouds, his long black lashes blinking slowly. I like to watch all the weight of his position roll off his shoulders. Plus, there's something comfortable about having nothing to say to each other. We're just two people, existing and enjoying each other's presence.

Here in the garden, the silence is amplified by all the little noises around us. The soft rustle of paper as Eero turns the page in his book. The wind cutting through the branches draped over our head. The grass crinkling under our legs.

Ladybirds crawl out and make their way up my leg, perching in the shady crevices of my dress. Little brown birds hop around the clearing and blink at us with their limitless black eyes.

As much as I hate to interrupt when he's reading, the secret we share grows more daunting every second. The bubble will pop, and I want to control when it does. I open my mouth to break the silence's seal, but Eero looks up at me before I can.

"Has Amaia given you something to do tonight?" he asks.

I nod. "We're washing Master Ursus's clothes for his return." It's a ridiculous task. Can't we just wash his clothes when he gets here? And why does he have so many?

"Can she do that alone?"

I shake my head. "It's too much for one person."

"Well, could she ask someone else?"

I shrug. "I guess. Why?"

Eero glances at the palace. What is he planning? His shoulders stiffen, and he sits up a little straighter. This is Prince Eero, not Reading-in-a-Garden-and-Training-Maids Eero.

"I have to visit the docks this evening to gather reports from the men we have stationed there and to check an issue we're having with our stock after the storms. Usually, I'd ask Josef to go with me, but he says he needs to focus on getting the kitchens and dining rooms ready for Master Ursus's return so he won't have time. He suggested I invite you."

Sneaky old man. Of course he did.

"What help will I be?" I ask. "I know nothing about your fleet."

He chuckles, and his eyebrows lift a little. "I bet you know more than you're pretending to."

It takes a second for his remark to process, and by the time it hits me, I've already said, "Excuse me?"

Eero laughs. "Nothing, rød fisk. Don't worry about it. Will you go with me or not?"

"I'd just be in your way," I say, digging for an excuse. Hanging around the palace with him is one thing, but away from it?

"Of course you wouldn't. I need someone to double-check my numbers and reports. You could help."

I grimace. Again, my brain and heart are telling me two very different things. I shouldn't go with him. I know that. It's not a good idea whatsoever. I'm already getting too comfortable here. With him.

But the sea...

The docks are so close to the sea.

Here, I can't even smell it. The sound of it is a distant memory, a lullaby in dreams that visit late at night. My magic flares at the thought of getting to touch seawater again, to feel the sand and salt between my toes, to watch the ships glide peacefully past.

Regardless of whether my head agrees or not, my heart and magic are in harmony. They want to say yes, to get as close to home as possible.

"I can't," I finally say, even though the words taste like chewing on a lionfish.

He studies my face for a moment before shutting his book and standing up. "In that case, I'm requiring you to go. Commanding it."

"What?" I sputter. "Why?"

"My reasons are my own. And, since you're my personal maid, you can't say no when I command you to do something. So, I'll have the stables prepare another horse." After a second's thought, he adds, "You can ride, right?"

I blink up at him, still shocked that he's going to force me to go.

"I'll take that as a no," he says, laughing. "Don't worry. Max is gentle. He can handle your weight and mine."

The prince extends a hand down to me, and I use it to heft myself out of the grass. Without a word, Eero gently lifts a ladybird off my shoulder and sets it to rest on a nearby leaf. I return the favor by picking the leaves out of his curls.

"One hour," he whispers, bringing my attention back to his face. Again, he's too close, too happy as he smiles at me. I can feel his breath on my forehead. "Front gate. Don't be late."

He leaves me standing there, wondering what in the world he's planning and having completely forgotten what I was going to tell him.

Madam Amaia walks me to the gate an hour later.

"Dumme dreng..." she mutters, talking to herself in Anjordian. I've noticed she does that more when she's stressed or angry—both of which flood her when Eero's involved. "Don't know why he can't travel to the docks alone. Like he's not been a dozen times."

I can't help but laugh. "I have no idea. He just asked me."

She mumbles something else under her breath, but it's so quiet that I don't catch it. "I told Josef he should have gone, but no!" With another huff ,she adds, "Men! So useless without us."

The guards stationed around the front gate pay us no mind as we approach. Instead, they bustle around the open door, talking amongst themselves. I notice they're much more relaxed than the ones I saw at the edge of the city. These men have gentler shoulders and softer eyes. Their swords sit farther from their hands; their gear isn't tied as tightly.

They almost seem comfortable. Relaxed.

"Where's Prince Eero?" Madam Amaia asks.

A dark-haired guard jerks his head towards the palace. "Saddlin' Max, I assume. He'll be down in a minute."

A nervous laugh erupts out of me. It twists in my throat and makes me cough. The guard's eyes go wide, but Amaia just beats me on the back.

I'm still coughing when a white horse rounds the corner of the front lawn.

Compared to Milly, Eero's horse is monstrous. His shoulders easily top my head, and his hooves look to be the size of my face. I'll never get close enough to them to compare, though. With a clean white coat, black dapples across his back and rump, and a sleek black mane and tail, he's as majestic as the man rising on his back.

"Are you going to survive long enough to do what I've asked of you?" Eero asks, looking down at me from his immense stallion.

"Yorlat," I spit out, sucking in a shaky breath.

He smirks. "No, I'm Eero. We've been over this."

I straighten myself and glare at him. "I said you're late."

Eero shrugs. "Had to help in the stables. Don't worry—I won't make it a regular event like you do."

Madam Amaia shoots me a confused look, and I throw my hands up in defense. "I'm almost never late! He's exaggerating."

She spews a mouthful of angry Anjordian and clicks her tongue at me. Since I've managed to regain my ability to breathe on my own, I push her away with a playful laugh. She trains her glare on Eero instead.

"You!" she hisses, planting her hands on his hips. Eero flinches. "Watch her like a hawk. She's not to leave your sight, forstår? If one hair on her pretty head is hurt, you will not hear the end of it. Do you understand me?"

Eero recovers and smiles softly down at her. "Of course, Amaia. She's in safe hands."

But the older woman doesn't fall for his charm. "I mean it, Eero. You know how I feel about those docks."

The smile melts off Eero's face. In its place is an emotion I can't name. Sadness? Longing? Understanding? The corners of his mouth tug downwards, and his eyebrows threaten to weave together between his eyes. Without saying a word, he throws one leg over Max and slides to the ground. Then he takes one of Amaia's hands into both of his.

"I promise, Amaia. Nothing will happen to her." He pauses and whispers, "Hun betyder for meget for mig."

And for what feels like the millionth time, I wish I'd paid attention when Mama tried to teach me Anjordian.

Amaia brings his hands up to her face and kisses the backs of them. "I know, son. I know." Then, with a soft sigh, she lets him go. Instead of heading back to the castle, she extends her hand to me. "Here."

I reach out, and she places a small velvet sack in my palm. I recognize it from our trip to the market.

"What's this for?" I ask.

Amaia shrugs. "Josef said to treat yourself to some 'candy of the sea.' Whatever that means."

I smile and pocket the coins. "Tell him I'll bring some back."

"I will," she replies with a chuckle. Then she gathers her skirt and starts back up the hill. "Be back by supper, you two."

"We will," Eero calls to her receding form.

When she's out of sight, he turns to face me, positively beaming. I can't help but match his excited face. I've never seen him like this—giddy, almost.

"We're going to work," I remind him as he turns to his stallion again. "Why are you so excited?"

"Because I love the ocean." He straightens the thick blanket that hangs over Max's back. "Would you rather me be grumpy?"

Yes, I think bitterly. I can handle Grumpy Eero, but I'm not too sure what to do with this version.

"Of course not," I grumble.

"Then stop complaining, rød fisk." He turns to face me. "Ready?"

I nod, and he reaches out for me. He tilts his thumbs towards my spine to avoid any unwanted contact, but the way his fingers graze across my dress still gives me shivers. His hands hit a little too easily into the notches of my waist, too.

His arms tense only slightly as he lifts me up onto the back of the horse, and then his hands leave me. Heat rises in my cheeks—a frustrating mix of embarrassment and attraction. I don't understand why this annoying man makes me feel so tingly all the time. It's like his hands are little fires, and I'm kindling.

I'm sure if given the chance, this little mermaid will burn me alive.

It's going to be the other way around. I'm sure of it.

Eero settles in behind me and deftly reaches around to grab the reins. There's no space for me to scoot forward, nowhere to escape to, so his chest presses against my spine. I can feel the curves of his abdomen, the heat of his skin through his shirt. I bite back the urge to lean further against him.

His bottom layer of curls lay across my shoulder, and as he holds the braided strings of leather, his upper arms rest on mine as well. I freeze, too afraid to move and awaken something else between us.

"Hold on tight," he whispers, his breath hot on my earlobe.

"To what?!"

"Either me or the blanket. You pick, Ari."

Without warning, he launches Max forward at a full gallop, tearing out the gate and into the streets of Lykke. I squeal and reach for the closest anchor I can find.

It just so happens to be his knee.

Divine, help me.