17
As Nathaniel carried me upstairs, he placed another soft kiss on my cheek.
His little mermaid was growing up. And he was finally here to fulfill the promises he had made all those years ago.
The Vance family was vast and powerful, with countless talented and ambitious members in his generation. The infighting was constant and brutal. Nathaniel’s own father had once been caught in a vicious power struggle that had endangered his wife and son.
Nathaniel had been kidnapped and thrown into the deep sea, a weight tied to his feet. Just as he thought he would sink to the bottom and be food for the fishes, Seraphina had appeared.
Her diving gear was old and simple, but she swam like a torpedo. In his delirious state, he had thought he was seeing a real–life mermaid from a fairy tale.
She had used her small diver’s knife to cut the ropes and had dragged him to the surface. He had spent the night on her tiny, beat–up fishing boat, brought back to life by a bowl of her fish soup.
She talked a mile a minute, a constant, cheerful chatter. She had so many wishes. A new boat for her dad. A small shop for her brother. For the
boy she liked to like her back. And for an endless supply of little cakes.
He had been too weak to respond then, but he had committed every single word to memory.
And now, the time had come for him to make every one of her wishes come true.
But there was one thing. The boy she had liked back then was William Thorne.
Did she like him now?
He smiled to himself. He had all the patience in the world. He would wait for that answer.
