Page 67 of In Violent Waves

“Blessed three, no! You’re not a mermaid anymore.”

It didn’t matter how kindly Daisy had said the words. Hearing them out loud was excruciating. A silent tear rolled down Lyra’s cheek before dropping into the water. Her tears could return, but she could not.

She didn’t want to cry.

If only part of her could return—then none of her could.

Daisy reached towards Lyra and then paused.

“Is it alright if I wash your hair?”

Lyra’s brow raised as if tugged by an invisible string. Wasn’t that her job? Why was she asking …

Wilder.

He must have told Daisy that Lyra didn’t like to be touched. She wanted to roll her eyes. It was fine if others had touched her, just not him.

Lyra jerked her chin down, and Daisy proceeded.

Daisy was a goddess. Her fingers on Lyra’s scalp were the closest to joy she had ever felt. It was so utterly delightful, Lyra closed her eyes.

“What is that song?” Daisy asked, her hands pausing.

Gods. Lyra had hummed and hadn’t even realized it.

“A song from Atlantis,” Lyra murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, my lady. It was beautiful.”

Lyra’s cheeks burned. Everyone was so nice here—it was throwing her off-kilter.

“Daisy,” Lyra began.

“Hmm?”

“What does ‘blessed three’ mean?”

Lyra blinked her eyes open to see a small smile lighting Daisy’s face. “It’s just an exclamation. The blessed three are the goddesses Aradia, Tiandra, and Mab.”

“Oh, I see. And that’s something elves say?”

Daisy nodded and proceeded to scrub the entirety of Lyra’s skin and hair, not once, but twice, and then had Lyra stand. Water ran in rivulets down her body, and she marveled at the beauty of her skin now. A healthy flush and glow of vitality.

A small part of her had come back to life. But water had a way of doing that. Whether it was nourishing you from the inside out, the body always craved it.

Daisy held open a large white fabric and gestured for Lyra to step closer. When Lyra did, Daisy enveloped her in the fabric and gave her a gentle squeeze. She then stepped back and patted Lyra’s body down before squeezing the excess water out of her hair with it.

“What is that?”

“It’s a towel,” Daisy replied, continuing to squeeze Lyra’s hair.

If Daisy was annoyed with the multitude of Lyra’s questions, she didn’t let on. And Lyra found herself relieved. She didn’t enjoy asking, but her curiosity rarely cared how she truly felt.

“And it dries off water?”

“Mmm, not all of it, but most of it.” Daisy grabbed a dress, but this one was open completely in the front. “This is a robe,” she murmured and then slipped it on Lyra before tying it around her so that it wasn’t open any longer.

The fabric was soft against her skin, and the green of it matched her eyes. There was intricate stitching up the sleeves and shoulders of it.