House of Salt and Sorrows(28)

“You’re sure to be, wearing those shoes,” I exclaimed, spotting her fairy slippers peeking out from her robe. She’d worn them ever since they’d arrived. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d slept in them.

Verity smiled, twirling to best show them off, then spun to the buffet, standing on tiptoes to peer up at the pastries. Camille helped her make a plate. She put a generous serving of kippers on first before adding the berry tart Verity pointed to.

“I feel like going back to bed,” Rosalie admitted, sprawling her arms out on the table and lowering her head. “Spending all night not dancing was exhausting.”

“No fair! I still have lessons!” Verity exclaimed. She climbed into her seat and waited for Camille to bring the plate over.

“Fish first.”

Verity glowered up at her. “Yours are still on your plate.”

“I’m the oldest,” Camille shot back.

Verity stuck her tongue out but eventually dug in. “What are you doing this morning, Annaleigh?”

The watch burned in my pocket, but I couldn’t bring it up now. Not with a fight festering just below the surface. “I ought to walk the beach for more kelp. Morella is nearly out of lotion.”

“The beach?”

We all turned to see Fisher standing in an archway. “Fancy company? I could row you out to the little islet with all the tide pools. You should be able to find whatever you need.”

I sensed Camille’s eyes on me but nodded, smiling up at Fisher. “After breakfast?”

He grinned.

Striding in, Papa said, “We need to talk.” Scanning the room, he caught sight of Verity. “Darling, why don’t you take your breakfast upstairs today? It can be a special treat.”

Her eyes lit up. “Are they in trouble? Camille didn’t eat her kippers.”

“She didn’t? Perhaps I’ll speak to her about that.”

Pleased, Verity scooted out of the room, tart in hand. The fish were left behind.

“Fisher, would you excuse us? I need to speak with my daughters. Privately.”

Fisher vanished down the hall.

Papa waited a beat before starting in on us. “Morella is very upset,” he said. “Inconsolable.”

Camille bristled, clearly not backing down. “Imagine how we feel. We’re the ones in danger of dying off, long before that baby is born.”

He sighed. “No one is dying off.”

“Then she has nothing to worry about, does she?” She slumped back into the chair. “I suppose you want me to apologize for having a conversation that wasn’t about her that she chose to eavesdrop on?”

Papa raked his fingers through his hair. “Just don’t bring it up again. Not around her, not among yourselves. I’m placing a moratorium on the curse. Which doesn’t exist,” he added. “Now, I have to travel to the capital this afternoon. I’ll be gone at least a week, maybe more. There’s an ugly bit of business King Alderon has requested his Privy Council weigh in on.” He sighed. “Morella is more tired than she lets on and could use a little looking after while I’m gone. Pampering, even. Understand me?”

Rosalie, Ligeia, and I nodded. After a pointedly long moment, Camille did as well.

“Good,” he said, and strode out of the room without a backward glance.

I longed to run after Papa and show him the watch, but he was in too foul a mood to listen. He’d snap at me, and I’d lose any chance at being taken seriously. I stared down into the depths of my coffee, wondering what to do next.

Fisher poked his head in from the hall. “Annaleigh? All ready?”

I pushed the cup aside. “Coming!”





The sky was a vast blue void as we set out for the little islet on the far side of Salten. The sun hadn’t been seen in over a week and now drenched down in radiant splendor, as if apologizing for its long absence.

While Fisher manned the small craft, I peered across the expanse of open water, counting sea turtles. The giant beasts were favorites of mine. In the springtime, females hoisted themselves onto our beaches, laying their eggs. I loved to see them hatch. With powerful pectoral flippers and giant, wise eyes, the little turtles were perfect miniatures of their parents. They’d burst free and work their way down the beach, already drawn to the sea, just like the People of the Salt.

“Look!” I pointed to a great leathery hump breaking the surface yards away. “That’s twelve!”

Fisher used the moment to pause, lowering the oars. “Biggest one yet too. Look at the size of its shell!”

We watched it take a gulp of air, then dive below the waterline. The wind tousled Fisher’s hair, highlighting the sun-bleached streaks, and I was struck again by how much he’d changed since leaving Highmoor. His eyes fell on mine as he smiled lopsidedly.

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” He raised his chin, gesturing to the island behind me.

I glanced back at Highmoor. Its four stories rose steeply from the top of the rocky cliffs. The stone facade was a soft gray, covered in ivy. A pretty pattern of blue and green shingles dotted the gabled roof, sparkling like the prize jewel in a mermaid’s crown.

My eyes drifted to the cliff walk. “It looks like nothing bad could ever happen there, doesn’t it?”