Pulvis et umbra sumus. (We are but dust and shadow.) -- Horace

Ketevan carefully counted her money and found she had enough to pay for two rooms at the inn. Hariye, after rummaging through his pockets, discovered he had enough money to pay for a carriage to the nearest city. Between them they could manage to at least get to the docks and have some money left over.

Ketevan said nothing that evening, but she knew Hariye's idea was complete nonsense. If he walked into the mayor's office and proclaimed he was the missing prince, he'd be sent back to his father before he knew it. If she walked in and proclaimed she was a foreign princess, it also wouldn't end well. But if she walked in and proclaimed she was a shipwrecked foreign merchant, maybe they had a chance of getting on a ship. The best chance of all was to simply find a Vakaryanese ship, explain who she was, and get home that way, but Ketevan didn't know yet if any Vakaryanese ships came to the nearest port.

If worst came to worst they could always stow away.

She lay awake for hours thinking about the situation in general and Hariye in particular. On one side was the memory of mer-scale jewellery. According to gossip the Sui emperor's entire throne room was decorated with those scales and it was the most breath-taking sight imaginable even after years had dimmed the scales' vibrancy. On the other side was the thought of Hariye himself. His willingness to help, his complete lack of awareness that he might be in danger, his bright eyes and brilliant smile. Ketevan found she didn't want to do anything that would make that smile disappear.

All of the historical records agreed that merfolk couldn't survive having their scales harvested. It was basically skinning them, after all. Usually the harvesters killed them first -- not so much to spare the merfolk pain as to make the process of harvesting easier and safer for themselves. But what if a mer gave up his scales willingly? It wouldn't be much different from a human cutting a lock of their hair.

Two things were certain. She had to find some way to bring Hariye home with her. That shouldn't be too hard; he was a teenager running away from home and willing to join in her "adventure". Then she had to conceal what he really was from everyone else.

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The first part of Ketevan's plan went with astonishing smoothness. They arrived in the city, went down to the docks, and found a Vakaryanese ship anchored there.

"Wait here while I speak to the captain," Ketevan said. "Don't jump in the water!"

Hariye looked at her as if she was silly, which was ironic when she'd seen how obsessed he was with the sea. Every time it was in sight he stared at it as if he wanted to dive in and never come out again.

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Captain Gobalijë welcomed her aboard. Ketevan didn't tell her who she really was, but she knew her formal speech and accent marked her as someone of consequence, someone it was worthwhile listening to.

"My ship was once attacked by those pirates," the captain said when Ketevan finished. "Damn them! They stole my entire cargo. One hundred and fifty bags of coffee beans all gone at once! If I ever get my hands on the bastards I'll make them wish they were never born!"

"I intend to catch the pirates as soon as I get home," Ketevan said. "Will you help me? I promise you'll be richly rewarded. Take this as a guarantee."

She removed her ring. It was stamped with the crest of Onomi, the lands always given to the queen's third child. To a foreigner it would look only like an ordinary metal ring with a design shaped like an eight-pointed star. The captain glanced at it, then looked again with more attention. Her eyes widened.

"You're--"

Ketevan interrupted her. "You see why I need to get home and why I would prefer not to make my presence known?"

The captain nodded. "Of course, your highness. I mean, of course, ma'am."

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Hariye had spent his entire life under the watchful eye of someone. If not his nursemaid, then his siblings. If not his siblings, then his father. If not his father, then his servants. If not his servants, then the palace guards. Even when he was physically alone he knew other people were never more than a few rooms away and would come running if he gave the slightest indication he needed anything.

At some point he had realised that he was treated differently from his half-brothers. They could go anywhere they liked and were left alone when they wanted to be. When he was younger he'd asked his older sister why he wasn't allowed to behave like them.

"It's because you're so much more important," she'd said. "We have to keep you safe at all costs."

Back then Hariye had accepted this explanation without question. He'd spent weeks being insufferably smug because he was more important than his brothers, in fact. Now, after being away from his family for almost a week, he looked back at that and began to wonder. What on earth was so special about him that he was treated like he was made of glass? And for that matter, how had he managed to sneak out unseen? It had seemed like extraordinary luck at the time but now made him wonder if his servants had just plain been sick of watching him all the time.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

In addition to a constant lack of privacy, he had only been allowed to read fairy-tales and adventure novels. He'd assumed that was normal. It had come as a shock when he met boys his own age among the merchants and had learnt that they'd stopped reading those books years ago.

The main effect of his upbringing was that he had no idea how life worked outside the palace, and he assumed his reading material reflected reality. He assumed it was perfectly normal for humans to gain tails when they fell into deep water, because things like that regularly happened in fairy-tales. He had no idea that he should be wary of strangers because he'd never met any, and in the fairy-tales a stranger was likely to be someone very important in disguise. He'd lost count of the number of stories he'd read where the protagonist saved someone's life and then discovered it had been a test of character and the person they saved was actually a fairy godmother who gave them everything they'd ever wanted.

So far Hariye's adventures had followed the usual plot of his favourite stories: he'd run away from home, saved a stranger, and now the stranger was about to leave for somewhere foreign. Wherever she went, she was sure to have an adventure, and Hariye didn't want to miss out on it.

Another unfortunate consequence of his upbringing was that he had very little understanding of how his actions affected other people. It never occurred to him that his father and siblings were worried sick over him and imagining all sorts of horrible fates that might have befallen him. None of that ever occurred to the protagonists in fairy-tales, and Hariye had unconsciously begun to view himself as one. Why should he think about going home yet? Going with Ketevan would be more exciting.

So when Ketevan returned and announced that the ship's captain had agreed to take her home, Hariye immediately declared, "I want to come too!"

Ketevan stared at him incredulously. "You want to come?"

"Of course!"

"I'm going to hunt pirates. It'll be dangerous, especially for someone so young."

Even with his inexperience of other people Hariye had a faint impression that she said this more to encourage him than discourage him. "I'm not young! And I want to come too! I don't care about danger!"

"All right," Ketevan said.

Something nagged at the back of Hariye's mind: Shouldn't she have tried a little harder to make me go home? But he disregarded it. Now he was really going to have an adventure! He thought of all the fairy-tale protagonists who went to foreign countries and came back with great riches. His siblings would be green with envy when he returned!

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The voyage back to Vakaryan passed much more quickly than Ketevan wanted. She spent the whole time lost in thought. The most important thing on her mind was still the question of Hariye. Publicly reveal he was a mer? Have a special swimming pool constructed on her land and keep him in it? Take his scales or keep him safe from everyone who wanted them?

Her room on the ship had a tapestry made of imitation mer-scales. Ketevan ran her fingers over it, watched how the gold and silver threads glittered, and compared them to her memory of Hariye's scales. It was the difference between a torch and the midday sun. That tapestry would have cost more than the average Vakaryanese farmer's yearly income. Ketevan suspected it was actually part of the cargo that had been hastily removed from its crate in honour of the ship's important passenger. And yet a mere handful of Hariye's scales would be worth more than the highest price this tapestry would ever fetch.

Years of wars with the north-eastern barbarians had left Vakaryan in debt to Sui for their military aid. If she took Hariye's scales she would be able to pay that debt several times over. She could restore Vakaryan to the wealth and glory it had enjoyed in the reign of Queen Nestan the Great.

And yet the price for that glory would be Hariye's life.

If anyone else learnt Hariye was a mer they would have none of Ketevan's qualms. They'd kill him and take his scales for themselves without a minute's hesitation. He didn't know he should hide what he was, so sooner or later someone else would discover it. When they reached Vakaryan the first thing she had to do would be to keep him safe and far away from other people. One of the old fortresses along the coast would be an ideal place. Then she could decide what to do with him.

For most of the journey she could see only two possibilities: kill him or keep him prisoner. A third possibility presented itself as the Vakayranese coast appeared in the distance. Both Hariye and Ketevan were on deck watching it grow steadily nearer. Hariye leant so far over the side that Ketevan briefly feared he was about to jump overboard. She grabbed his arm to hold him steady.

He tore his eyes away from the land to flash her a reassuring smile and say something that sounded like, "Don't worry, I won't fall."

Ketevan hardly heard him. Her mind was suddenly filled with a completely new idea. His skin was so warm and soft under her hand. She'd assumed a mer's skin would be cold and rough. And he was really very pretty with his large eyes, inky black hair, and pale skin. He was young, of course. She hadn't asked his age, but if she had to guess she'd say about fourteen or fifteen. That was old enough for marriage -- Vakaryanese boys came of age at fourteen, and she'd heard that in Çarisar and Sui a boy could be married at twelve[1].

Years ago Ketevan had realised her view of marriage was very different to her sisters'. She looked for nothing in marriage beyond gaining more power through her husband. Love never entered into it and the thought of physical intimacy was downright distasteful to her. Hariye was no exception -- the idea of ever consummating this hypothetical marriage turned her stomach -- but she would certainly gain power if she married him and convinced him to give up some of his scales. She would also keep him safe so no one could ever harm him. And even though she didn't want to sleep with him, she had to admit he was nice to look at.

Marrying him would solve her dilemma once and for all. Now she just had to find some way to make him agree to it.