The prince looked at him for a long moment, weighing his old friend’s words. How much did he really know?
No, he couldn’t risk it. Vanessa had been quite clear with her threat.
“Grims, you can’t help me here. I won’t let you,” he finally said, putting a hand on the butler’s shoulder. “The best thing you can do right now is be there for me. A lot of this mess is my fault, and I don’t want anyone in the cross fire while I clean it up.”
He winced: terrible metaphor. Embarrassing for a poet. Mixed and meaningless.
“I understand, Eric. But sometimes…helping people isn’t about you at all. Or even the help. Sometimes it’s about the people who want to help.”
“Grimsby, I…” Eric wilted. He hated how this hurt his old friend. He hated how he couldn’t say what he wanted to say.
What he actually said was, “Just don’t ever find yourself alone in the castle. And don’t hang out near balconies. And don’t eat anything I don’t send to your study myself.”
“I am currently subsisting on a diet of biscuits directly from the homeland, thank you. In sealed tins. They are a tad dry but nutritionally sufficient. Here.” The butler pointedly handed him a folded piece of paper. “A receipt for the postage on a private package to be delivered to Ibria. Very expensive—I believe you stated a desire to approve all unusual expenditures above a certain amount?”
And with that he spun on his heel and clicked out of the room.
Eric sighed. It broke his heart to treat Grimsby this way. But I would feel even worse if something happened to him.
He opened the paper, wondering why the butler thought it was worth his time. It wasn’t even that high an amount—although ludicrous, really, for the shipping of a single package. There were international carriages for that sort of thing now. And all the instructions that were tacked on were absurd:
KEEP IN THE SHADE AT ALL TIMES; DO NOT ALLOW TO GET TOO HOT; ENSURE THE HOLES IN THE BOX AREN’T BLOCKED SO AIR CAN CIRCULATE; HANDLE CAREFULLY, LIQUID AND GLASS WITHIN…
Eric blinked.
He reread the instructions:
TO BE DELIVERED DIRECTLY TO THE HANDS OF KING OVREL III OF IBRIA, AND NOT A SERVANT OR FOOTMAN. ALSO CONDOLENCES ON THE LOSS OF YOUR EMISSARY, FROM PRINCESS VANESSA.
Glass…liquid…holes so air could circulate…Vanessa was shipping the King of the Sea out of the castle right under Eric’s nose!
Grimsby knew. He knew what Eric was looking for—and had found it.
Good old Grimsby!
Eric’s first instinct was to call out a princely order to stop the whole thing. He would head to the Office of the Treasurer immediately to do so.
Then he stopped.
Vanessa had the whole castle on alert, spying for her. If he did anything and was caught—a very likely possibility—Vanessa would punish Grimsby. Or Max.
What should he do?
When the time came she changed in the deep channel between thickets of razor-sharp grass on the northern side of the marsh, farthest from the castle—and its guards. The tide was still coming in, so the water hadn’t been sitting in the muddy marsh for hours, growing still and stinky.
On cue Jona dropped down from the heavens and settled on the top of a sturdy tuffet.
Moments later Eric came striding on the path through the grass. He looked lost when he didn’t see her by the boat as he expected.
“Eric!” she called out quietly.
“Ariel!” His face broke into a wide smile that warmed her from the inside. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be here!”
“Have you found him?” she asked eagerly.
The prince took a deep breath and gripped her shoulders.
“I did find some polyps—but not your father. Some other prisoners of Vanessa’s. Horrible things, disguised in her cosmetics.”
Ariel felt the sea inside her retreat into the depths of her soul.
What a happy ending it could have been—Eric bringing her father; freeing Triton right there, on the marshes…
But life was complicated.
Eric saw her wilt and he held her steady.
“I’m so sorry, Ariel,” he said. “Also…Vanessa knows I know about her.”
Ariel shook her head at the multiplicity of bad news. “But how did that…？”
“Long story. Terrible dinner. Actually, great dinner. Just terribly awkward. But there is a little bit of good news.”
He showed her the receipt.
“I believe Ursula is trying to sneak your father out of the castle right under my nose…and impress a potential ally at the same time. She’s giving Triton to the king of Ibria as a specimen for his zoo.”