The Rising (The Rising #4) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,50

who love and respect her. You do not have to twist yourself into knots to be all to her in the limited time you have with her. Protect her from every hurt you can manage. In another time, I will express my gratitude to you for looking after her as best you could since her birth. In the now, just know, she is loved.”

Mars watched True swallow as he allowed Mars’s words to penetrate.

He then watched his brother nod.

After that, he clapped him on the arm.

And then both of the men who loved Silence Laches the most in her life made haste to introduce her to her brother.

Queen Silence

Parapets, Sky Citadel, Sky Bay

AIREN

“They loiter,” my brother—my brother—muttered.

I looked from my view of studying his handsome profile as he leaned forward against the railings, gazing from the ramparts to the night lights of Sky Bay, to where Mars and True stood, ostensibly talking, undoubtedly listening, some five feet away.

“My husband and my cousin tend to think I must be looked after.”

“They are correct,” he stated, turning his head to me.

I lifted my chin. “I am woman, but I am not powerless or stupid.”

“Do you look after your husband?” he asked.

“Of course,” I stated tartly.

He grinned and became all the more handsome. “You do know, if you love someone, that automatically happens. You look after them.”

“Oh,” I mumbled and turned to the Bay.

“You have great beauty. My father would be proud he had a hand in creating that,” he declared.

Slowly, I closed my eyes.

I had known him but hours, and already, he told me I was beautiful.

I had known my father all my years, and he’d never said such.

“My sister,” he called gently.

I opened my eyes.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “And you are most handsome, and please know I do not say that only to return the compliment.”

“You appeared in pain a moment ago.”

I turned my head to see his silver eyes, my silver eyes, gazing at me.

“I hope you never know how it feels to have mostly nothing, and then be given everything. It’s most overwhelming.”

“My sister,” he said, his tone edged in distress.

“Let us not dwell on these things,” I suggested. “Can I ask you questions?”

He twisted his upper body toward me, leaning on an elbow on the railing, and answered, “Anything.”

“If I am a mermaid, and you a mermale, why do we both have legs?”

“You are on land,” he said. “When you are in the sea, the salt sea, my sister, you will transform.” His face turned severe. “Though you will not do that unless you have myself or Ha-Lah with you. I do not know a single Mer who has lived their life unknowing they are Mer. But I know babes must learn to use their fins. I will not have you drop to the bottom of the sea your first time as who you truly are.”

“Oh faith, that would be terrible,” I muttered.

“You can breathe under the sea, Silence. Gills will form on your neck if you are out in the depths when you duck underwater.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

He smiled at me. “You have aunts and you have cousins and they will be most delighted to meet you. We lost my father, and we grieve. Having you is like having a part of him back.”

“I…I…that is a lovely thing to say. Erm, how long has he been gone?”

“Naught but a year.”

Naught but a year.

My father, my true father, had been gone naught but a year.

“I missed him by a year,” I whispered.

“Yes.”

We held each other’s gazes.

Jorie broke our silence.

“You have his eyes. And you have his nose. And you have my grandmother’s stature.” He leaned toward me and winked. “She too, was wee.”

She was wee.

The knowledge I’d never meet my real father, and so many things about me I didn’t understand explained, Jorie’s seeking of me, his handsomeness, his wink, his existence, I could not cope.

“I am sorry, Jorie, but I…” I looked this way and that, then began to wave my hand in front of my face before I mumbled, “may need to freshen…”

“By the sea beasts,” he muttered and pulled me into his arms.

They felt strong about me and he smelled fresh and salty and lovely.

I pressed my cheek to his chest, carefully wrapped my arms around his trim waist, and took in deep breaths.

“You may weep,” he offered. “I have two female cousins. They get their hearts broken on a regular basis. My chest is their favorite cushion to absorb their tears. In other words, I