Chapter 11: : Chapter 10

ERIC FLED the room in a panic. Grimsby found him in the hall a few minutes later, laughing under his breath at the absurdity of his situation. There wasn’t anything Eric could do yet, but all of it hinged on finding the Isle of Serein and killing the witch. Grimsby gave Eric a moment to compose himself before dragging him to the dining hall for dinner with Pearl.

“You told me to leave her to Carlotta,” muttered Eric as he straightened his clothes outside of the dining hall. “And Sauer’s arrival has changed things.”

“It has not changed the doctor’s instructions for you to rest,” Grimsby said. “If Carlotta hasn’t come chasing after me about her, she’s almost certainly not a spy.”

Eric narrowed his eyes. It had been annoying at first, trying to get back to the castle when Pearl didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word , but then his stress and pain had eased as they ate with Vanni and meandered through the bay. Her company had been a balm.

“Fine,” said Eric, and he pushed open the doors to the hall.

Pearl hadn’t arrived yet, and the room didn’t bear any scars from Eric’s last disastrous dinner. Eric went to one of the windows, leaning against it. At the far end of the harbor bobbed Sauer’s ship.

“And I think the company of this girl will be a good distraction from your mystery savior,” Grimsby said in the same tone he usually reserved for when Max licked his face.

“She real,” said Eric. “I would have drowned if someone hadn’t saved me.”

A woman as compassionate as she was courageous had pulled him from the waves, and she had possessed a pure voice, or pure so far as he could tell. It hadn’t been a near-death hallucination or figment of his imagination. She had been his true love.

“Oh, Eric. Be reasonable,” Grimsby said with a frantic gesture. “Nice young ladies just don’t swim around rescuing people in the middle of the ocean and then flitter off into oblivion like some—”

“I’m telling you, Grim, she was real.” Eric ignored Grimsby’s scowl at being interrupted. “I’m going to find that girl, and I’m going to marry her.”

He would look for his mystery savior after the curse was broken and none of the fears of his curse hung over him to ruin the joy of having true love, and no one, not a witch or Grimsby or all the long-lost cousins challenging his claim to the throne, could stop him.

Grimsby shook his head.

Laughter echoed from the outside of the hall. Carlotta rarely laughed like that anymore, and even Grimsby looked up from his favorite pipe to the doors. Both were thrown open, and Carlotta paced between them, gesturing for Pearl to follow her. The soft shuffling of her feet, so uncertain, reached Eric first. No doubt Carlotta had gone overboard. Pearl had barely been able to walk without shoes. She would—

“Oh,” Eric whispered and swallowed.

Pearl stood in the doorway. Her hair spilled like sweet wine down her back, a small river of it gathered up in the teeth of a white shell comb. In the dimming light of evening, her eyes were darker, blue sapphires plucked from the deepest part of the seas, and the pink dress she wore swirled around her body like high tide at sunset. She dropped into a curtsy, graceful despite the clearly unfamiliar movement. The pearls dangling from her ears glittered.

“Oh, Eric.” Even weathered old Grim sounded charmed. “Isn’t she a vision?”

“You look…” Eric moved toward her, wanting to reach for her hand, but at the last moment, he pulled away. He couldn’t. “Wonderful.”

Pearl shrugged, smiling up at him, and all the words Eric meant to say fled.

“Come, come, come. You must be famished.” Grimsby beckoned Pearl to the table and held out her chair for her. “Let me help you, my dear.”

Eric swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut, but the vision of Pearl remained. The heat in his cheeks eased, and he peeked at Pearl again. Grimsby glanced at Eric, one brow raised.

“There we go,” said Grimsby to Pearl. He stepped back and let Eric help Pearl with her chair. “Now, quite comfy? It’s not often that we have such a lovely dinner guest, is it, Eric?”

He had said that about every dinner guest of marrying age since Eric turned sixteen.

“You’re plotting,” muttered Eric, leaning in close so that only Grimsby could hear him.

Grimsby shook out his napkin and whispered, “I am picking my battles.”

More likely he was trying to get Eric’s mind off his true love.

Eric shook his head. Pearl was still inspecting the place setting, none the wiser to Grimsby. She ran a finger over the fork, and before he could react, she picked it up and ran the tines of it through her hair like a brush. Grimsby froze. Eric tried to think of something to say but couldn’t. He hadn’t even considered that Vellona’s customs might be different from hers, and they hadn’t used forks with their soup at Vanni’s.

Pearl blushed and ducked, sinking in on herself, and she looked around. Eric’s skin burned with her unease. Grimsby, long immune to any embarrassment Eric felt, picked up his pipe and struck a match. The sound and flicker drew Pearl’s gaze. She leaned toward it.

“Ah,” said Grimsby, drawing from it once. “Do you like it? It is rather a fine one.”

Grimsby offered it to her, and Pearl ran her fingers along its neck. She put her lips to the mouthpiece and blew. Tobacco ash spewed out of the bowl, scattering across Grimsby’s face. He froze, and laughter exploded from Eric. He pounded his chest to stop.

“Sorry, Grim,” he said.

“Oh my!” Carlotta—he had forgotten about her since seeing Pearl entering—came up beside Eric and lightly smacked his shoulder. “Why, Eric, that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in weeks.”

After learning of his mother’s fate, or her soul’s fate, he hadn’t been sure he would ever smile again. Grimsby was right; Eric felt lighter. Better.

Grimsby ripped the cloth from his chest pocket and wiped his face clean. “Oh, very amusing.”

Eric shot Pearl a comforting look. The blush in her cheeks seeped all the way down her neck, speckling her collarbone like fading freckles. Eric laid one hand on the table near hers.

Suddenly, the gulf between them, widened by their difficulties communicating, felt impassable, and he hated that. Their communication was already so limited, and propriety was another unnecessary barrier. It had never really bothered him before; usually, he was pleased by the added layer of protection propriety gave him. Pearl shouldn’t have been any different, and he wasn’t sure why she was.

“Carlotta, my dear,” said Grimsby, interrupting Eric’s thoughts, “what’s for dinner?”

“You’re going to love it,” she said, darting past Eric. She squeezed his shoulder. “Chef’s been fixing his specialty—stuffed crab.”

Eric rested one elbow on the table and blocked Grimsby’s view of Pearl with his shoulder.

“Don’t feel bad about the fork and the pipe,” he whispered to her. “A lot of things here are new to you, and I should have asked. If there’s anything else, tell me or Carlotta, and we’ll help.”

Her smile fell slightly, and Eric reached out for her, not quite touching but leaving his hands open for her on the table. A crash came from the kitchen. Carlotta winced.

“I think I’d better go see what Louis is up to,” she said, scurrying off.

A few short minutes later, the little door to the kitchens burst open, and Carlotta hustled out with three plates along her arms.

“You know, Eric,” Grimsby said. He took a puff from his pipe, smiling slightly. “Perhaps our young guest might enjoy seeing some of the sights of the kingdom. Something in the way of a tour?”

A tour? While his mother’s ghost sat waiting in the castle? Yes, that would provide a distraction and keep Eric out of Grimsby’s hair until Sauer and their crew were ready to depart, but that wasn’t enough for Grimsby. Eric just had to stay focused on the witch and her isle and ignore Grimsby’s quest to find him a spouse.

Eric nearly said as much, but Pearl’s hopeful smile made him pause. He offered to give her a tour at Vanni’s, and rarely did Eric get to show off Cloud Break to people so excited to see it. He smiled back at her and imagined how much she would like the markets, given every stop she’d made between Vanni’s and the castle. She had enjoyed watching Vanni making pasta, and plenty of vendors would be happy to demonstrate their work to someone. She would almost certainly love the windmills.…

“I’m sorry, Grim,” said Eric, forcing himself to look away from Pearl. “What was that?”

Carlotta set the plates before each of them, the scents of butter and herbs rising with the steam.

“You can’t spend all your time moping about. You need to get out. Do something, have a life.” Grimsby lifted the lid from his plate and inhaled so deeply he closed his eyes. The crab on his plate was so fresh, it looked alive. “Get your mind off—”

“Easy, Grim, easy,” Eric interrupted to avoid Grimsby going off on another tangent. So it was Grimsby’s last-ditch effort to attach Eric to a pretty young bride. He had never looked forward to spending time with his potential spouses, but doing so with Pearl didn’t feel like a chore. “It’s not a bad idea, if she’s interested.”

He glanced back at Pearl. “Well, what do you say? Would you like to join me on a tour of my kingdom tomorrow?”

She nodded furiously, arms crossed over the serving lid. Eric smiled.

“Wonderful,” said Grimsby, holding up his fork. “Now, let’s eat before this crab wanders off my plate.”

Metal clanged against ceramic, and Eric turned back to Grimsby. Only a lone piece of lettuce covered his tray.

“Ah, Carlotta, dear,” said Grimsby. “I seem to be missing my meal.”

After dinner, Max met Eric and Pearl outside of the hall and followed them down to the beach where they had found each other. It had been Eric’s suggestion as a way for him to learn more about Pearl and to talk to her somewhere less intimidating than the castle. Grimsby’s crab had never reappeared, and Eric had made the horrifying realization that he had overlooked another major thing—what Pearl ate. She hadn’t touched the crab, but she had seemed to like the rest of the meal well enough. He suspected she didn’t eat meat at all. He didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

“If you want anything else to eat or there’s something specific you want, ask Carlotta,” he told her, helping her navigate the small rocks separating the stairs from the beach.

Pearl nodded, but her head was tilted back and her gaze focused on the stars. Max nudged at her side. Grinning, Pearl toed off her slippers and darted across the sand. Max took off after her.

“Tap your shoulder!” Eric called out and followed after them, laughing as Pearl did as he said and Max stood up on his hind legs.

She took him by the paw and led them round and round in a shaky circle.

“Do you know how to dance?” Eric asked. She shook her head, and he held out his arms. “Do you want to learn?”

Pearl set down Max and joined Eric. He placed her left hand on his shoulder. Her fingers fidgeted against him, a slight chill seeping through his shirt, and she leaned into his hand on her waist. She dug her toes deep into the sand. Eric chuckled.

“Here, this will be perfect.” Eric whistled the quick triple meter of the last song he had danced to—in the poorly lit dregs of the sea beneath the docks with Vanni, Gabriella, and the rest of their friends months ago after Vanni disarmed Gabriella for the first time—and let Pearl get used to the rhythm. It was a leaping dance and didn’t demand the precision of most formal routines. He moved his feet slowly at first, speeding up once she started moving with him. Then he leapt.

With his hands on her hips, Eric lifted Pearl until her feet were a few feet off the ground. Her hair flared out behind her like a crown. Joy lit her eyes.

“Fun?” he asked, and brought her back down to the beach.

She nodded, fingers tightly clutching his shoulder.

Eric pulled her close again and led her in another circle. “How about a leap and a spin this time?”

She tapped him once, moonlight sparkling in her eyes as she laughed, and she looked like how bells sounded, bright and delicate with a promise of depth yet unheard. He raised her up once more and leapt himself. She twirled in midair with all the grace of a lifelong dancer.

So many of the popular dances across the kingdoms required close contact and lips within kissing distance. As the only prince of Vellona, Eric had been expected to entertain, but his mother had rarely allowed him to dance outside of his lessons. It was the sensible route and kept him safe.

But he loved dancing and this, the breathless thrill of it all with Pearl. She leapt higher each time, dancing with an abandon Eric couldn’t match, but she respected the distance he kept her at.

Though he was too afraid to admit it, there was a part of him that wished she wouldn’t.

“I need a break,” Eric said, pulling them to a stop. His ribs did ache, but it was the sudden desire to pull her closer that drove him to step away. “That’s harder on sand.”

Pearl huffed and gathered her hair up out of her face. They sat down, the water lapping at their feet. Max curled up behind them.

“We can try it again tomorrow on stone,” he said, and winced. “About tomorrow—I do have to leave in the evening for a while. I’m unsure as to how long I’ll be gone, but it’s unavoidable. I will still give you a tour of the bay. Unfortunately, you’ll be stuck with Carlotta and Grimsby after that. If you need anything, ask. No matter if you want to stay in Cloud Break or find your way home, they’ll help.”

Panic darkened her gaze, and for the first time since they had met that morning, she looked afraid.

“Carlotta will be thrilled for the company,” said Eric. “And we’ll have plenty of time to talk tomorrow still. If I could delay it, I would, but I got some bad news today and can’t put it off any longer.”

Pearl nibbled at her bottom lip.

“It will be fine. I promise,” he said. Then, trying to change the topic, he continued, “I know we can’t really talk, but what else is different here from your home, if you don’t mind answering?”

She held up two fingers—she didn’t mind—and tilted her head back, pale neck arched and bare. Eric looked up at the sky.

“The stars look different here?” he asked and glanced back down at her.

She clapped once and sighed, hair rustling with her breath. A few strands stuck to her cheek. Eric tucked his hands into his pockets to keep from brushing her hair aside.

“Are they completely different or just harder to see?” he asked.

She tapped twice and then made a motion as if wiping her eyes.

“Easier to see?”

She nodded.

“I have no idea where you might be from, then,” he said, and smiled as she laughed. They sat in silence for a long while, shoulder to shoulder, and watched the distant lights of ships pass by. Slowly, Pearl patted the back of his hand four times.

“So that’s not ‘I don’t know,’ is it?” He turned to her and asked, “Are you trying to say another common phrase?”

One pat.

“I can’t explain?” he offered, and she shook her head then wiggled her hand. “Explain?”

One pat.

“Explain what?” asked Eric.

Pearl made a rocking motion with her hand, gliding it through the air like a boat over water.

“Why am I leaving? Oh, that’s not a happy tale.”

Pearl laid her hand on his arm, inclined her head, and rested her other hand over her heart.

“No apologies necessary,” he said. He rarely spoke to anyone about his mother, but her ghost was so new and so much was happening. Pearl, though melancholy, wasn’t looking at him like he was broken. “My mother died at sea two years ago, and I found out why and where recently. I’m traveling to learn more.”

It wasn’t everything, but it was enough of the truth that he felt lighter for having shared it.

Pearl gestured to herself and then him, and Eric knew instantly what she meant.

“Absolutely not.” Eric shook his head and pulled back. “I cannot ask you to come with me or allow it. There are pirates and other deadly things, and I will be going directly into danger. If you got hurt, who would we even contact?”

Pearl blew a strand of hair from her face. She shrugged.

Eric squinted at her. “Should we contact anyone for you?”

She held up two fingers.

“Your family,” he said carefully. “They’re not terrible to you, are they? If you wanted to return, it would be safe?”

She nodded and shrugged again. Her hands twisted in her lap. She touched her heart.

“You love them?” Eric asked. “But it’s complicated.”

She held up one finger and used it to tap her forehead.

“You think…”

Pearl threw her hand out and gestured vaguely into the dark.

“You think the sea?”

Two fingers.

“Them?”

One.

“You think they?”

She nodded and smiled. Her right hand tapped her forehead, and then she held it even with her stomach. Her left hand she waved away from herself again and then held over her head. Eric tried to hold back his confusion.

“You think they think,” he said, running through possible things he would say about his own family and friends using these gestures. “You think they think they need to take care of you?”

Pearl dropped her hands and shrugged. She tapped her chest again and held her hand over her head, then raised it slowly seven times.

“You’re the smallest?”

She shook her head.

“You’re the youngest?”

She wiggled her hand—maybe—and huffed. She drew the lines of a family tree and pressed a hand to her chest. Her arms cradled an imaginary baby.

“You’re the youngest, and they baby you.” Eric nodded and brought his knees up to his chest. “My mother was sort of like that. She always wanted to protect me, and it’s even worse now because she was such a good queen and now I have to fill that role. It terrifies me. She wasn’t scared of anything. I feel like, no matter what I do, I will never live up to her.”

Pearl nodded and grasped his hand, lacing their fingers together.

He couldn’t tell her about his curse or his mother’s ghost, but some part of him wanted to. He wanted to let all his secrets slip from his lips and ask, Instead, he leaned back in the sand and stared up at the stars Pearl didn’t recognize. She lay back next to him.

“We should go back,” he said. If they stayed any longer, he wasn’t sure what all he’d tell her. “Carlotta will kill me if I keep you out all night.”

Pearl snorted.

“We’ll leave for the tour early, if you don’t mind.” Eric helped her to her feet. “Cloud Break’s best in the morning.”

Pearl smiled and nodded. She reached up and untangled a cherry tree sprig from his hair. She tucked it into his shirt pocket. Her fingers tapped his cheek once.

Something pulled at Eric’s chest.

Another mystery to solve tomorrow.