The Mermaid's Madness Read Online Free PDF Page B

fought a rush of anger at the gesture. Who was he to wave Snow to silence? But he had been raised a prince, brought up to command those around him, and he had no way of knowing who it was he had dismissed so casually. Most people knew the tale of Snow White, but the idea that she could be living here in Lorindar was too great a leap. At most, people assumed Snow’s nickname came from her resemblance to that distant princess.
    “Not even Danielle has shared the full details of that rescue,” Armand said. “How my wife, with the help of two servants, could defeat goblins and trolls, spirits and dark magic.”
    “Also darklings and a ghost,” Snow added.
    “Yes, of course.” For a moment, his expression softened. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m grateful for your assistance in Fairytown. But it’s clear you are both more than mere servants. What do you know of Lirea’s feud with my mother?”
    “Nothing,” Talia said.
    His lips pressed together. He turned to Snow. “And you?”
    Snow stared at the wall. “You’re an intelligent man. If I had known Lirea meant to attack your mother, do you really think I would have left her unguarded?”
    “That doesn’t answer my question,” Armand said.
    Talia had been thinking the same thing. The cabin tilted as the ship fought the wind. Talia adjusted her weight to compensate, watching Snow closely.
    Armand pressed one hand to the ceiling. When the ship steadied, he snapped, “I’ve seen my mother struck down and my kingdom dragged into conflict with an enemy we’ve never fought. If you truly serve this kingdom, you’ll—”
    Talia shook her head, fighting for calm. “We swore to serve your mother. Not your kingdom, nor you.”
    “And you don’t want to know what Beatrice puts up with to keep that loyalty,” Snow added.
    Talia scowled, but Snow only flashed that damnably innocent smile of hers.
    Armand drew a deep breath, and the anger slowly drained from his posture. “My mother trusts you.”
    “Yes.” Talia’s voice was flat. Beatrice had trusted her, and because of that trust, Beatrice had almost died.
    “As does Danielle.” Armand hesitated only slightly before adding, “I know you love them both. Thank you for trying to protect them.”
    Talia managed a small nod. Anger she could accept, but compassion cut through her defenses as easily as she had slipped past Lirea’s.
    She clenched her fists, trying not to think about that fight. There were so many ways she could have prevented this. A blow to the back of Lirea’s knees, dropping her to the deck. An overhand strike with the spear, stunning her. A simple kick to the throat. Any one of those moves would have stopped Lirea without pushing her toward the queen.
    “My surgeon will watch over her until we reach the palace,” Armand went on. “I would ask the two of you to stay close to Danielle. I’ve stationed men to watch the water, but we’ve seen how easily Lirea can board this ship. If she follows through on her threats against Lorindar, we won’t be safe until we’re back on land.”
    Talia blinked. “You’re asking us to protect her?”
    The prince managed a smile. “Somehow I suspect you’d do so with or without my request.”
    “If Lirea does return,” Snow said softly, “tell your men to try to get that knife.”
    Talia’s expression was feral. “If she returns, you can take it from her corpse.”
    The following morning, Danielle stood on the quarterdeck with Talia and Snow. At sunrise, the cliffs of Lorindar had been little more than a smudge of shadow rising from the water. Now she could distinguish the proud shape of Whiteshore Castle sitting atop the white cliffs. Clumps of green clung to the cliff face where grass and shrubs had managed to take root against the wind and rain.
    The palace was made of the same white stone. Glass windows sparkled in the towers, and Danielle could just make out the guardsmen patrolling the eastern wall.
    The Glass Slipper sailed past the wharf