I hear some shuffling and then Peri is in front of me, grabbing my shoulders to stop my whirling. Her gray-green eyes look directly into mine. “Is something wrong?” she asks, shaking me slightly. “I thought you weren’t coming home until next weekend, just before your birthday celebration.”

“I wasn’t.” I swim over to her col ection of designer Oceanista dol s—almost al of them gifts from either me or Daddy—and run my fingers lovingly over their historical costumes and tightly styled hair. “Dosinia happened.”

“Dosinia?” she asks, sounding shocked. “What did she do this time?”

“She kissed Brody.”

“Brody?” Peri echoes. “Your Brody?”

“He’s not my Brody,” I argue. “But, yeah, same boy.”

“How did she even meet him?” Peri asks. “Doe hates humans. Why would she go on land?”

Guess Cid wasn’t joking about Daddy not tel ing anyone about Doe’s exile, if Peri doesn’t know. Her mom is dressmaker to the Thalassinian elite; she hears al the best gossip.

Whatever Daddy’s reasons for keeping the whole thing quiet, I stil don’t hesitate for a second. Peri’s my best friend and I tel her absolutely everything. If anyone knows how to keep a secret, it’s her.

“This is for your ears only,” I say, “but Doe’s been exiled.” Peri gasps. “What?”

“Daddy revoked her powers.” I swirl away from the dol s and give Peri an oh-joy-for-me look. “He sent her to live with me until she gets past her hate for humans.”

“Wow.” Peri floats down onto a starfish-shaped cushion in the corner of her room. “She must have messed up drastical y. What did she do this time?”

“I don’t know.” I join her on the next starfish over. “Daddy’s always been pretty lenient with her. This must have been over the top, but she won’t tel me what she did.”

“It must be pretty bad, if even Doe won’t own up to it.” Peri sits thoughtful y for a moment, tugging absently at the end a starfish leg. “She real y kissed a human?” I nod.

“Maybe she doesn’t hate them any longer.” Ha. Peri has no idea. “Maybe she just hates me more.” I quickly explain my theory about why Doe bonded with Brody, just so I’d have to leave. So she could get her hooks into Quince—not that he’l fal for any of her bait. She could be up there right now, tempting him with fabulous style and flirty laughter. My anger rises just thinking about her.

“Wel , that sounds more like her,” Peri says.

She’s known Doe almost as long as she’s known me, so she’s not unfamiliar with my cousin’s antics. And she’s been at enough of Doe’s dress fittings that she’s also not unfamiliar with my cousin’s general y awful attitude. She’s seen firsthand the bratty side that Doe tries to hide from the populace beyond the palace wal s.

“Anyway, since she can’t transfigure, I had to be the one to bring Brody,” I say, trying to change the subject off Doe, one of my least favorite topics of conversation. “Only Daddy’s away from the palace and won’t be back until morning.”

“So you’re here for the night?” she squeals.

“Looks like.”

Not that I’m unhappy to be home. I’d just rather be here under different circumstances, and with a different boy in my wake.

“Excel ent!” Peri pushes off her starfish and jets to the door. “I’l get Mom, and we can work on your birthday dress.

After a day of fittings with the most horrid sea cows in the kingdom, she’l be thril ed to work on someone normal.” Before I can open my mouth, Peri is out of the room and cal ing for her mom, whom I love like she was my own. And I can’t wait to see what she’s whipping up for my dress.

Mrs. Wentletrap made the gown for my sixteenth birthday, a beautiful watercolor print of teals and turquoises, with aquamarine stones sewn into a sparkly starfield along the neckline and the fluttering waves of a seaweed hem. I’d felt every inch the princess that night.

At the time I never would have imagined that two years later, my eighteenth-birthday bal would be my last as Thalassinia’s princess.

“Come on,” Peri shouts. “We’re ready for you in the fitting room.”

I can’t help the giddy shiver of girlish delight that washes through me.

The Wentletrap fitting room is every little mergirl’s dream.

The wal s are covered in hundreds of fabric samples, al colors, al styles, many decorated with sparkles and pearls and the rarest shel s in the ocean. Peri and I tried to count them al once. We gave up when we reached a thousand.

There are accessories, too, drawers ful of things that kept me and Peri entertained for hours. Abalone buttons, rainbows of ribbons, beads and sequins and every size of pearl imaginable.

And best of al , in the center of the room there’s a gauzy half-circle canopy hanging from the ceiling al the way to the floor, facing an oversized ful -length mirror. Perfect for a little mergirl playing dress-up. Or a big mergirl playing dress-up.

“Hi, Mrs. Wentletrap,” I say as I swim into the dream room.

“Lily, darling,” she says with a smile, pul ing me into a welcoming hug. “It’s always wonderful to see you. Have you lost weight?”

“Not an ounce,” I answer with a laugh. “Do you know how many kinds of pudding they have on land? I couldn’t lose weight if I tried.”