I glare at her back as she pours lemonade into a clean glass. She and I don’t hate each other as much as we used to—and not just because she’s bonded to my former crush and actually seems happy for once—but she still knows how to push my buttons.

Right now I don’t have time to trade jellyfish barbs with her.

“Where is she?” I demand.

Doe turns to face me and jerks her caramel-blond head in the direction of the living room. “Is she always so . . . peppy?”

I lift my shoulders in a heavy sigh. “Yes,” I say. “Always.”

“Hi, Shannen,” Doe says, looking over my shoulder. “Got a ride home with Lily, did you?”

I turn and see Shannen, wide-eyed, nodding her head.

“I wasn’t that bad,” I insist. Shannen’s eyes get even wider. Fine, I was that bad. But I had my reasons. “You settle in at the table,” I suggest, hoping that giving her something to focus on will make her forget our near-death experience with the garbage truck. I did stop in time. “I have to go find out why she’s here; then we can get started.”

Shannen doesn’t respond, but she drops her backpack on the table and sits in the nearest chair. I’m not sure which is more disconcerting: her blank-eyed stare or the fact that she doesn’t immediately open her backpack and start in on homework.

“Here, take this to our guest,” Doe offers, pushing the lemonade into my hand. “I’ll fix another glass for Shannen.”

I’m too distracted to worry about Shannen’s shock or wonder at Doe’s uncharacteristic generosity. I nod in thanks and head into the living room.

Calliope Ebbsworth is sitting on Aunt Rachel’s floral sofa next to Brody, reading a scroll of kelpaper that reaches all the way to the floor, with Prithi purring contentedly in her lap. My first real interaction with Calliope—the foremost mer couples counselor in Thalassinia—was when Quince and I were accidentally bonded while I thought I was still in love with Brody. Daddy made us go through the motions with Calliope to make sure I really, really, really wanted to break the bond with Quince.

At the time, I did. But her methods definitely helped me see the truth about Quince and helped me realize my own feelings for him, feelings I’d never even let myself imagine.

Why she is here now, when I’m perfectly happy with Quince—bond or no—is confusing. Maybe she’s here to counsel Dosinia and Brody. Or maybe she wants me to do some exercises to make sure my bond-in-name-only with Tellin doesn’t muddy my emotional waters with Quince.

“Hello, Calliope,” I say, walking into the living room.

“Princess Waterlily,” she replies with a grin. She releases the top of the kelpaper scroll, and it rolls down to join the rest of itself on the floor. Prithi startles and makes a dash for the stairs. “Just the mergirl I wanted to see.”

There goes the hope she’s here for Doe and Brody.

“I’m also the mergirl who almost ran you over with her car.” I hand her the lemonade before taking a seat in the recliner next to the sofa. “You have to be careful on your bicycle.”

“Oh, you know.” She waves her hand at me like it’s no big deal. “A fish on a bicycle.”

She laughs at her own joke, and I wait while she takes a long drink.

“Shannen might never recover,” Doe says. She crosses to the sofa and squeezes in between Brody and Calliope. “You’ve scarred her for life.”

Brody chuckles as he hands Doe one of the coffee cups he’s holding.

I glare at her.

She takes a sip of her latte and slips her free hand into Brody’s. When he makes a swoony smile at her, I turn my attention back to Calliope.

“What’s going on, Calliope?” I ask, hoping this will be quick and easy so I can get to work with Shannen on developing the survey I’m going to take to the mer kingdoms. “Why are you here?”

“Can’t a mermaid come visit her princess without a reason? Your hair is looking particularly lovely today. Have you done something to it? Is it shorter?”

“Calliope . . .”

Her chipper expression turns serious.

“Well . . .” She glances down at the kelpaper scroll at her feet. “It seems there is a bit of a legal knot surrounding your bond to Prince Tellin.”

The muscles in my shoulders tighten. “What kind of knot?” I demand. “Bonds in name only happen all the time in the mer world. I know I’m not the first.”

“Certainly not,” she says with a sympathetic smile, “but you are the first in recent memory to do so openly, and with a human mate already at your side. It is a unique situation.”

“Okay,” I say, really not liking the sound of this. “What does that mean?”

She sets her glass on the table and grabs the scroll off the floor. “At your father’s request, his advisers and I have been reviewing the ancient laws of royal bonding. It seems our ancient mer founders foresaw such a possibility and set up a kind of—” She clears her throat. “Requirement.”

“What kind of requirement?” Her avoidance is making me all kinds of nervous. “More bond counseling? Another couples challenge?”

Thinking back to the time Quince and I spent on Isla Amorata, I don’t count that as much of a punishment. We could use some romantic alone time on a tropical island.

“No, dear. Unfortunately it requires a great deal more than that.”