Page 86 of In Violent Waves

There was a light clattering of doors shutting and fabric rustling. She leaned her head against the copper tub and closed her eyes, breathing in the heavenly aroma of the oils.

“Do you have a preference for this evening?” Daisy called through the closed door.

“This evening?” Lyra asked, sinking deeper into the water.

“Your dinner with the king and queen.”

Lyra’s eyes flashed open, and water splashed over the rim of the tub as she jolted up. No one had told her that. She hated the very idea of it. What would she even say to them?

“’Tis a great honor, my lady.”

Lyra snorted. “I’m theircaptive. I fail to see the honor in that.”

It was silent for a heartbeat. “Well, when you put it that way,” Daisy chuckled. “The navy gown would be stunning with your complexion.”

Lyra sighed. It didn’t matter; none of it mattered. Scooping up a handful of water, she watched it ripple in her palm. She missed the sea. Missed Seraphina and Marina, if she was being honest. She was accustomed to their curtness, not this kindliness.

But she would need to break the bargain between humans and merfolk if she ever wanted to see her home again. Which meant using her magic. Her throat burned.

“You’ll prune if you stay in there any longer,” Daisy chided.

Closing her eyes and holding her breath, she sank beneath the water, not hearing anything anymore.

Daisy wasn’t having any of that. A splash in the water had Lyra opening her eyes. The oils and salts burned, but she could still make out Daisy’s annoyed expression.

When her lungs screamed from the lack of oxygen, she breached the surface, wiping the water from her eyes.

“Out you get. I still have much to do with your hair and trying to hide the burn on your cheeks and forehead,” Daisy sighed. “Beautiful ivory skin fried like bacon.”

She held a towel out, averting her eyes as Lyra rose from the water and stepped out. Daisy wrapped it around her, and she felt the strange strains of comfort.

Daisy truly was a soft-hearted soul. After she dried off and donned her robe, Lyra followed her to the vanity and plopped onto the velvet stool. It took her a moment to realize how easily she had walked across the room with the absence of pain. Those oils and salts were magic.

In her absence, Daisy had pulled open the curtains and laid a navy blue gown on her bed. Golden sunlight streamed through the open curtains, setting the room ablaze.

Lyra studied herself in the mirror. There was a flush to her cheeks and forehead, a new splattering of freckles across her nose. But there was a sharpness in her eyes. Being challenged all day by Wilder had awoken something in her she long thought dead.

Daisy hummed to herself as she worked. Strands of Lyra’s auburn hair were pinned in an elaborate updo.

“Daisy, have you worked in the castle long?” Lyra attempted conversation.

“Since I was a child.”

“And do you like it?”

Daisy smiled and nodded. “Very much so.”

Lyra sat still and quiet, watching Daisy work. She smiled to herself, like she really did enjoy her work.

“Do you have any family?”

She met Daisy’s eyes in the mirror and saw them sparkle.

“I have two younger sisters.”

“Oh.”

“How about you?”