“Your highness,” I said with a sardonic courtesy, breaking the silence that had stretched for five long, tedious minutes. The Mermaid King’s lips twitched, but he remained silent. Watching. Calculating. Those pinprick blue eyes of his seemed to stare into my very soul.
After a long moment, he nodded towards his eldest son. I couldn’t recall the name - something with a T - but he had the same golden hair and sun-kissed skin as my mate. His smile was coy though as he handed me a slip of paper.
I couldn’t help but note his hand brushed mine a second longer than propriety allowed.
I wrenched my hand away, and a frown carved itself into his handsome, marble features. Still, he did not press as he strode back towards his father.
Dair was glancing between me and his brother, expression inscrutable.
Feeling as if I was being analyzed beneath a microscope, I unfolded the sheet of paper and smoothed out its creases. My brow furrowed as I read through what I had been given.
It was a map of an unfamiliar landscape. From the large expanse of water taking up three-fourths of the map, I deduced it was a part of the Mermaid territory. The back had handwritten notes about an unnamed man. A brief description, biography, and his last known location.
Reading the words once and then a second time, I quirked a brow. I knew it might have been considered rude of me, but my emotions were already at an all time high. Unease skittered down my spine at what was very obviously an assassination assignment.
Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t opposed to killing. I couldn’t have won this competition nor have been one of the best human assassins if I was. I was, however, against killing people I knew nothing about. Who was this male with “green eyes” and “red hair” according to the report? What had he done?
“You want me to kill him,” I said tersely. It wasn’t a question.
When the King continued to smirk mockingly, the unease turned into a rock hard ball churning in my gut. I was discomfited by the prospect of doing something to help this evil asshole.
And that was what he was - evil. There was no doubt about it in my mind. He was an evil I was chained to, unfortunately. Somehow, he had crawled inside of me, infesting me like a damn parasite. The spell prohibited me from harming him or allowing others to harm him. I was trapped, and he was one of seven who held the chains.
Grappling with my own emotions, I nodded once. Innately, I knew it wasn’t one of agreement. Did they even have nods for ‘I want to kill you, but a spell prohibits me from doing just that’?
“What did this man do?” I asked the King stiffly.
Nothing. Just another curl of his lips.
“We will have a ball to celebrate your...position,” he answered at last. His words took me by surprise, and I physically staggered back a step. The King’s lips twitched.
“A ball?” I parroted in disbelief.
“A ball,” he repeated with a decisive head bob. Behind him, Dair’s lips thinned - as pleased by this development as I was.
And the smile on the Mermaid’s King’s face?
I had the distinct feeling the ball was just one of his many tests.
THE DRESSMAKER WAS A SHREWD, tiny woman with coiffed gray hair pulled tight on her head and beady brown eyes. She moved with an elegance that hinted she may have been a Vampire or even a Shifter. Otherworldly.
A familiar head of orange hair appeared next, smiling brightly.
I recognized Lupe’s sister immediately. Mali’s mate.
And Jax’s fiancée, though I didn’t want to think of that. Her smile widened when she took stock of me, white teeth flashing.
“You look beautiful,” she gushed, gliding into the room and perching on my couch. The dressmaker barely spared her a glance, despite Atta being a princess. Her entire focus was on me and making me as miserable as possible.
That macabre thought was only reinforced when a knife (read as: a needle) was jabbed into my side making me wince.
“This is hell,” I snarkily replied. I had been poked and prodded to a very inch of my life. Each stab of the needle felt like a sword through the chest.
As soon as that petty thought came to me, I felt guilty, a depthless ocean that threatened to swallow me whole.
Atta continued on, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
“As is the price of beauty, my dear friend,” she said lightly. She leaned further back on the couch, folding her hands beneath her ample breasts. If I didn’t know that she preferred females, I might’ve been jealous of her engagement to Jax. Even knowing what I did, my stomach clenched and tightened whenever I thought of the two of them together.
Even if it was only for show.
Her words registered to me a second too late.
“I’m not your friend,” I sputtered out.
If I expected her to be upset by my words, I was poorly mistaken. She merely grinned cheekily.
“We’re practically family,” she cooed, tossing me a sultry wink. “Especially since...”
I helplessly glanced at the dressmaker, willing Atta with my eyes to shut the hell up.
“I was going to say because you’re my family’s assassin, but whatever toots your horn.”
I rolled my eyes at her cattiness just as the seamstress stabbed a particularly sharp pin into my side. I yelped, jumping, but she merely tsked her tongue in disapproval. Atta laughed - there was obviously no help coming from her.
“I can’t stay for long.” Atta gracefully moved to her feet, every inch the refined, dainty princess. “I just came to deliver a message.”
“A message?” I asked, but my attention was on the wretched woman kneeling before me. I snapped my teeth at her, and she responded with purposefully shoving a damn needle into my thigh. “Motherfucker...”
“She says she’s sorry.” Atta’s calm voice broke
