Prince of Song & Sea

BEING around people was tiresome for Eric. There was something exhausting about having to consider his every little action and word: the tilt of his head as he listened to a dignitary or the toothiness of his smile with the council. Sailing and sparring were never as troublesome, and he had assumed it was because they weren’t talking. Entertaining Eric could do, but it brought him no pleasure.

The girl from the sea—Pearl—though, didn’t seem to care about his shrugging off tradition or how he held himself apart from others. She didn’t demand answers or get offended when he asked her to never kiss him on each cheek as Vanni had done to her when they left. She nodded and moved on.

The only thing that really gave her pause was the first glimpse she got of the castle as they wound their way through the bay.

“It looms,” he said, leading her through the main gate. “I promise everyone inside of it is less imposing. Except Grimsby, but don’t tell him I said that. He’d take it as a compliment.”

She laughed. He clenched his hands together to keep from smiling back at her.

She wasn’t his true love. She couldn’t be. She had washed ashore far too late in the day to have been the girl who saved him, and she didn’t have a voice as pure as her soul.

And he wasn’t feeling any different. Just recovering. His ribs were black and blue, and it was no wonder he felt warm. He might have even had a fever.

“Here. Rest for a little bit.” Eric led her to one of the benches in the courtyard. “I’ll be back in a moment, all right?”

She nodded and toed off her shoes, testing out the blanket of clover around the bench. Eric took off to find Carlotta, Max at his heels. There was no telling where she might be.

It had taken longer than he expected to cross Cloud Break. Once again, Pearl kept stopping to stare at everything, and this time he hadn’t had the heart or strength to drag her away. He had abandoned his worry about Grimsby discovering him gone once it was clear Pearl had never seen some of the things she was so taken by on their walk, and honestly, spending time with her had made him lose track of time. For the first time in ages, he had simply existed and not been worried about Vellona or Grimsby or his curse.

Eric nearly barreled into Carlotta while turning the corner to his own quarters. She yelped.

“Three! Hours!” She smacked him with the cleaning cloth in her hands. “Where have you been? Gabriella said you were going on a short walk, and then no one saw you come back from the beach, and Grimsby—”

“Carlotta,” Eric said, taking her by the shoulders, “I am fine. I ran into—”

“Trouble!” She drew herself up to her full height. “I knew it!”

“Why do people keep saying that?” Eric shook his head. “I found a girl washed up on the beach, and we stopped at Vanni’s so she could borrow some clothes. She doesn’t speak and doesn’t read or write Vellonian. Until we can figure out where she’s from and what happened, I would like to make her feel welcome.”

“Oh, that poor dear,” muttered Carlotta. Her tone shifted, and she clutched her rag to her chest as her eyes widened. “On the beach? Where you were? Does this mean you were not imagining your mystery girl after all? Eric, is she—”

“She’s not my savior,” Eric said. “Her I haven’t found yet, and I swear she’s real.”

Once the witch was dealt with, Eric would find his true love. She had saved him, she had sung to him, and he would prove it.

Carlotta hummed and nodded, her expression skeptical. “Of course. Of course. Until you find her, then, I’ll take care of this other girl, and you can rest like you were supposed to be doing.”

“Rest?” Eric laughed. “Never even heard of the word.”

“A nice, relaxing day,” she said, glancing down the hall. “No expectations and no worries. Now take me to your girl.”

“She’s not my…” Eric shrugged and gestured down the hall. “Come on.”

He led her back to the courtyard. Pearl wasn’t on the bench when they arrived. She was near the high wall, crouching down before a scraggly tree. A trio of baby gulls, still fluffy and black-beaked, squeaked up at her and snatched pieces of Vanni’s bread from her fingers. Her shoulders shook with laughter, and one nipped her hand. She wagged her finger at it. The little thing bowed like a courtier on knobby legs.

“You’ve been making friends,” Eric said, careful not to startle her.

She spun and smiled, giving him a little wave. The red indent of the gull’s peck sent an unexpected warmth through him. She wasn’t angry at the gull like most would be. She was kind in odd little ways, the gestures coming without a second thought.

“Pearl, this is Carlotta,” he said, gesturing to the older woman. “If you need anything, she will do everything she can to help. I think a bath, some rest, and new clothes would be best.”

Her smile slipped slightly, and he knelt before her.

“Are you all right going with Carlotta and stay-ing at the castle for now?” he asked. “If not, we can find somewhere else for you to go.”

She tapped once on the back of his hand.

“Good,” he said.

A few strands of hair fell before her face, and Eric had moved before he even thought about it. He brushed the hair behind her ear. He had never done that with anyone. It felt too intimate, a bit too much like a kiss on the corner of the lips.

“We should have dinner tonight,” he said, and Carlotta stared openmouthed at him. “We both got shipwrecked, and you don’t know anyone.”

And even though she wasn’t his true love, he wanted to spend a bit more time with her.

Pearl grinned and nodded.

“Now,” Carlotta said, slipping between them and taking Pearl’s hands in her own. She shot Eric a questioning look over her shoulder. “Let us get you into a nice warm bath and clothes that fit. Eric, go put Grimsby out of his misery. I’ll take care of her.”

“Pearl’s a nickname, by the way. You might have better luck than me figuring out her actual name,” he said and avoided her eyes. “Grim in his study?”

“The old study,” said Carlotta. “Go on now. Pearl is in good hands.”

The study was one of the oldest rooms of the castle, tucked away near its center where the air was chill and the stone walls damp, and Grimsby used it only when tradition demanded it or he didn’t want many people stumbling upon the meeting. It was where Eric’s mother had made quiet pacts and dealt with folks other nobles or kingdoms would scoff at. It was where he had learned his mother had died. It was where he would sign his name to the list of Vellona’s rulers.

“A place for the best and the worst of Vellona’s quirks,” he muttered, his mother’s description sticking with him still as he turned the final corner.

The hallway was decorated with old portraits and tapestries, and Grimsby paced before them. Eleanora’s painted face stared down at him.

“Grim?” Eric said, raising his voice slightly.

The man nearly leapt from his skin. “Where have you been?

Eric explained about his walk and meeting Pearl, and Grimsby’s forehead gained a new wrinkle with each word.

“Are you telling me that you found a girl on the beach, showed her around the bay, and welcomed her into the castle?” Grimsby asked. “No questions? No concern for if she’s a Sait spy or one of those mercenary pirates raiding up north?”

“Bold strategy, then, stranding herself naked, exhausted, and with few ways to communicate.” Eric snorted. “If she is a spy, Sait will soon learn our darkest secret—Vanni’s best pasta recipes.”

Grimsby groaned. “You are missing the ocean for the waves—you are the cursed prince of a troubled kingdom, and there is far too much going on for you to be bothering with some random girl.”

“She’s a guest,” said Eric sharply. “She is alone and vulnerable. I don’t care what else I am, but I will not be the sort of person who refuses aid to someone in need.”

Grimsby drew himself up, shoulders straightening, and his hands clenched by his sides. “There are more important things for you to deal with now. Hand her off to Carlotta, by all means, but you need to focus. You need to marry and secure the line of succession before your court takes matters into their own hands.”

Eric ground his teeth together to keep from snapping. Helping someone in need shouldn’t have been unimportant or secondary. Vellona had a line of succession if you squinted. Eric had plenty of cousins—the same ones who wouldn’t hesitate to challenge his claim if he didn’t marry, but still. Eric rubbed his temple and sighed.

“Marrying won’t kill the witch or break my curse. Marrying won’t instantly bring us money or resources. Marrying won’t instantly create an heir. Marrying won’t keep the pirates or storms away,” said Eric. “I will leave Pearl to Carlotta, but I will be hunting down the Isle of Serein again. You may stay behind and deal with the quandary of marriage if you want.”

Grimsby scowled. “You need not go looking for your island so soon—that pirate Sauer has returned, and they dragged who-knows-what back with them. They asked for a wagon to carry something to the castle and to speak with us in private.”

Sauer was in Cloud Break? It wasn’t impossible for them to have made it back so soon, but Eric hadn’t expected them to arrive until tomorrow given the storm.

“Did something happen?” asked Eric, curiosity burning in is stomach. “Come on.”

Eric pushed open the door to the hall. The wooden walls were darkened by age and years of cigar smoke, the portraits hung up as serious and monotone as the rest of the room. The long wooden table that usually sat in the center of the room had been pushed to one side, and the leather chairs circling it pushed to the other. Sauer, studying the last portrait Eric’s mother had sat for, stood at the back of the room next to a large crate covered in canvas. Eric couldn’t bear to look at it.

“Captain Sauer,” he said. “You made good time.”

They didn’t respond. They looked older than they had on the ship. They were still taller than Eric despite their tired slouch, and they stood out in the dour room. Their red coat was as weathered as their face, the bottom hem little more than fringe and most of the buttons missing, and they inclined their head to him. Salt-matted white hair stuck to their neck.

“Circumstances changed, Your Highness,” they said, taking off their wide-brimmed hat. “This is your mother, Her Majesty Eleanora of Vellona?”

Eric came to stand next to them and eyed his mother’s portrait. “Yes, that was commissioned when she became queen.”

“It’s an uncanny likeness.”

Confusion ran through Eric. The back of his neck prickled.

“I was unaware you ever met my mother,” said Eric, “so what could possibly be uncanny?”

Grimsby’s footsteps echoed behind Eric, but he didn’t take his eyes from Sauer.

“What’s happened?” Eric asked.

Sauer scratched at the sunburned skin stretching across their large nose. “There’s no easy way to say it, so I’ll show you. Brace yourself.”

The pulled the canvas from the crate, except it wasn’t a crate at all. It was one of the ghosts, standing inside of a hastily built box frame. The bottom of the frame looked as if it had been cut from the deck of an old, rotting ship, and salt flaked from the ghost’s form, peppering the floor. The ghost was as tall as Eric, and her short black hair was wild and windswept. She was paler here than she had been on the sea, as translucent as a spiderweb in the wrong light.

“No.” Eric took a step back, gaze sweeping over her again. From the slight inward turn of her feet to the broad post of her shoulders, to the way her hands hung closed and fisted at her sides to how her mouth was slightly open, this was his mother exactly as he remembered her. “That’s not… She’s a lure. The light of an anglerfish. Nothing more.”

He backed away from her, and next to him, Grimsby fell to his knees. He covered his mouth with shaking hands.

“I’ve noticed from the three times my crew has encountered the ghost ships that the ghosts, after they lose interest in their target or the target is far enough away, revert to what I can only assume are their original forms,” said Sauer. “This is the form that this one reverted to once there was no one around to lure.”

“My mother is dead,” said Eric, but his voice wavered. He hated it. “My mother has been dead for two years, and we are well within this thing’s luring range right now. I see this ghost as my mother because that is who I want.”

“And yet I see Eleanora of Vellona, too.” Sauer glanced at the ghost. “She’s not in the dress coat and that scar on her cheek isn’t visible on the ghost, but she has been Eleanora of Vellona since all the ghosts reverted and left.”

Eric swallowed, unable to look away from her face. “How did you catch her?”

“We didn’t,” they said. “Once they were no longer trying to lure us and far enough away that they were leaving on their own, she came walking back across the waves. Not for my ship, but for yours. She nearly walked right past us on the waves.”

Grimsby tensed behind Eric and, with a cracking voice, said, “That cannot be Eleanora.”

Hands shaking, Eric reached out to the ghost that couldn’t be his mother, and she didn’t react at all. His fingers brushed against her form, the pale shimmer of her body dulling for a moment. He passed right through her as if she were smoke.

“It looks like her,” Eric said.

Slowly, her eyes rolled to stare at him. Her mouth worked as if she were speaking, but there was no sound at all. Not even breathing.

“Most of her scars aren’t visible, but that little notch in her upper lip.” Eric gestured to the portrait. On the ghost, it appeared as if a sliver of flesh, or whatever it was made of, was missing. “That’s in the right place.”

Grimsby came up behind him. “As is her mole.”

Dread washed over Eric.

“What if it’s not a copy?” he asked.

“She is the only one who left the ghost ship. The only one I have ever seen do that.” Sauer bowed their head. “Several times, when the music was at its weakest, she broke free of the group following our singer and looked as if she were searching for someone.”

“What are these ghosts?” Eric asked. “She’s dead. Why would she… What sort of waking nightmare is this?”

Eric couldn’t even bring himself to look at Grimsby.

“I don’t have that or, honestly, any other answers for you. Only speculations,” said Sauer. “I believe that some part of her is here right now. There are not many ghosts, perhaps only four or five dozen, but surely they do not run into people they knew during their lives often. However, she did see you again. The farther she got from the ghost ship, the fainter she became, and she began to sink through the waves.”

Eric inhaled, suddenly realizing what they must have done.

“So you lured them back and cut a piece from the ship for her to stand on.”

Sauer nodded. “Only me. I rowed a ways off and called them. I was quite desperate to do it, seeing as a pardon for my crew is on the line. But it worked.”

“And here she is,” whispered Eric.

“Yes,” said Sauer. “She kept trying to continue her walk, but she stopped once we traveled in the same direction she was going in for an hour.”

A yawning ache opened up in Eric’s chest, like missing a step on the stairs, and all the grief he had bottled up within him strained against his heart. He leaned his forehead as close as he could to her ghost without touching her.

“You really think she’s here for me?” Eric opened his eyes and found her staring through him. Not seeing him. Not really seeing anything. But his mother’s ghost was looking at him, and he couldn’t stand it. “Back then, on the ship, there was a moment when she didn’t offer me anything. She only said my name. Do you think she’s aware of me on some level and that she’s waiting for something even now?”

No one answered his question. Grimsby was frozen in place in the center of the room, his gaze on Eleanora and his hands covering his mouth. Eric pulled the man’s hands from his face.

“I think marriage can wait,” Eric whispered. “Don’t you?”

Grimsby stared at him. “Eric—”

Eric spun away from Grimsby to stare at the captain, Nora’s words at sea about her time as Sauer’s second coming back to him. He took a deep breath, willing himself to stay focused despite the discomfort he felt with his mother’s ghost just steps away from him. “I believe I promised you something if you helped me, but I have a question first—why did you turn to piracy?”

“Turn? That’s a rather loaded word, isn’t it?” They laughed and shook their head, running their long fingers through their hair. “When polite society won’t even deign to recognize that you’re a part of society, much less be polite to you, why bother trying to fit in? My home wasn’t doing anything to ensure people could survive. We had to do it ourselves. I feel no qualms about my work. How do you feel about yours?”

“Better than I feel about this.” Eric pointed at his mother’s ghost. “Do you still agree to abide by our deal?”

Sauer nodded.

“I want to leave tomorrow for the Isle of Serein. The same course we took last time,” said Eric. “On the Isle is a witch responsible for terrible things. I’m going to kill her. Get me there and back alive, and you and your crew will receive full pardons.”

“Eric!” Grimsby reared back as if struck and shook his head. “You cannot go on a mission to face some witch just—”

“Just?” Eric asked, gesturing to the ghost of his mother. “Think about how many we saw on the ghost ship, Grim. How many people have died to the ghosts? How many to this witch? I’m done waiting for life to align itself. Mother died going after this witch, and I’m sorry for not telling you, but I’m doing this whether you like it or not.”

Grimsby stared at Eric, skin bone white. “Eleanora went after her?”

“She did,” said Eric. “And she died for her troubles.”

Grimsby was silent for a moment, staring at Eric with an unreadable expression. Finally, he took a breath and rounded on Sauer. “You will, of course, uphold your end of the deal and escort him?”

Sauer ran their tongue along their teeth and seemed to be going over the time line. “We can be ready tomorrow evening once we’ve rested and restocked, but I’m giving my crew the option to stay behind. I’m not ordering them to fight a witch. I and any who agree will uphold the deal.”

“That’s fair,” said Eric at the same time Grimsby said, “If he gets so much as a single bruise, I swear you’ll never know peace again.”

Sauer’s eyebrows shot up. “Understood.”

“Grimsby, get Sauer whatever they need,” said Eric. “If my mother moves, I want to be told immediately. Have two people in here watching her at all times, preferably two who already know about the ghosts. Those sailors we traveled with, perhaps. Tomorrow we’re on the hunt again.”

Eric took one last look at his mother’s ghost, her empty eyes never meeting his, and turned away.