with a cream-colored bodice. “Maybe this will fit you better?”
“Alan, really—I don’t want you to go to any trouble on my account.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “No one is holding a knife to my throat. This wasn’t any trouble, and it’s out of fashion. I think you’re courageous to come so far looking for your sister. Foolish, maybe, but courageous.”
“Well, I know it’s a little foolish,” she said, irked.
He paused. “I heard my father was here.”
“Oh yes. I’m so sorry I forgot to tell you.”
“You spoke to him?”
“It was after you’d gone. And then Swift came in while he was here.”
“Did you tell him who you were?”
“No. I remembered you telling me a while ago that he wouldn’t be happy if he knew we were friends.”
He smiled weakly. “That’s good.”
“Would he be upset that we talked even?”
“Oh, he’s just—” Alan shook his head. “Fandarsee are supposedly so worldly and open minded, but it’s not true.”
“So he doesn’t approve of mermaids?”
Alan shook his head. “He doesn’t approve of anything out of step with our family’s reputation. He’d rather I was furthering my education back home, but he sees no point in the things I’m interested in, philosophy and such. He’s always asking me what it’s supposed to do for anyone. My family has been of a scientific bent, generally. One of my great-uncles discovered bacteria, and I told you how my grandfather discovered a planet. I guess he won’t be happy until I discover something.”
Esmerine didn’t know what bacteria even was. Maybe some kind of medicine? “That doesn’t seem very fair! What if there aren’t any more planets to discover?”
“Oh, I’m sure there’s something, I’m just not interested in planets and bacteria the way I am in … other things, like how people think, or what they believe. I don’t know why.” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked to the window. The light was lower and cooler now, as even long summer days must come to an end. “Ah, well. It doesn’t matter. He won’t come around again too soon. He hates Sormesen. You just rest, and we’ll have dinner in an hour or two. I’ll send Ginnia to help you dress.”
“I should write that letter to my sister for Swift,” she said.
“Later,” he said. “I’ll show you how to write with quill and ink and paper.”
One thing she had forgotten about Alan was how confusing he could be—irritable one moment, kind the next. Now, instead of resting properly, she found herself thinking of how he would arrive on the island, and she would suggest a story to act out, and he would protest and make excuses until she coaxed him into it. She remembered telling Dosia it was as if he thought he’d get in trouble if he had any fun, although no Fandarsee were around to witness him playing. Even other merfolk rarely took an interest in their island, which had no olive trees or other foods to entice gatherers.
“Well, it must be awful to be a winged person,” Dosia had said. “The way he’s always talking about school. I think he’s too serious.”
“But he can fly. That must make up for a lot.”
Dosia rolled her eyes. “But he can’t swim. So we’re even.”
Dosia was practical that way. She might desire things that were difficult to obtain, like seeing the surface world, but she never desired impossible things, like flying. And she never seemed to envy anyone.
The thought started creeping back in, that Esmerine might never see Dosia again, and she shoved it down before it could fully flower. She needed her wits about her and her emotions safely buried, at least until she was back home again.
Chapter Nine
Ginnia returned before long to help Esmerine dress for dinner. She didn’t lace her stays as tightly, but Esmerine still hated the feel of the rigid ribs and sturdy cloth hugging her chest. The sky-blue dress had loose sleeves that afforded far more movement, but she was used to her bare