In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (most motivational books txt) 📕

no logical way for him to have arrived at the port before the War Bird. No man could swim that length; he would surely have given in to exhaustion. This was Tal’s misplaced grief playing tricks.

Still, there seemed to be something amiss, and it was Tal’s duty to investigate.

“I’m sorry, boy. If you want the medicine, you have to bring me something of value.”

“They are of value. I know they are. Aren’t they?”

Tal inched closer, pretending to look over the wares of a jeweler while attempting to sneak glances at the situation. A crowd stood in his way, gathering at the commotion, and he huffed. With a roll of his eyes, he pushed past a taller gentleman, then stopped short.

It was him.

Tal’s heart constricted. Anger warred with relief at the sight of Athlen, hiding beneath the brim of a too-large hat. He stood at the counter, waving his calloused hands and arguing with the merchant. He wore trousers that didn’t quite fit him but were at least long enough, his bare feet peeking beneath the hems, and a white, billowy shirt that reminded Tal of sails. His ridiculous hat flopped in his face, but it didn’t hide the bright splotches of red on his cheeks. When he lifted his head, Tal caught the frustrated downturn of Athlen’s pink mouth and the defeated line of his shoulders.

The merchant, short and balding, with an unfortunate mustache, leaned forward and pinched a perfect pink pearl between his fingers. “These are worthless,” he said.

Tal raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer. The pearl was worth more than anything in the shop. What was the merchant playing at?

“Please,” Athlen begged, a desperate edge to his voice. “My friend’s mother is sick. She needs the medicine to breathe. This is everything I have.”

The merchant stroked his mustache. “I’m sorry, friend.”

Athlen let out a frustrated sound and clenched his hands. “I can get more,” he said. “Whatever it costs. I can get more.”

The merchant’s eyes sparkled with greed.

So that was the game. Tal shouldered forward. Mustering every ounce of royal disdain and arrogance he could, he lifted his chin and hardened his gaze.

“What seems to be the problem here?”

Athlen startled and turned to face Tal. His expression twisted into shock and then gratitude in a blink. Standing this close, Tal caught the distinct scent of Athlen, thick even in the crush of bodies around the merchant’s stand. He smelled of the sea—of salt and spray and foam.

“This boy is causing trouble.”

“Trouble?” Tal said. He peered over Athlen’s shoulder and spied myriad objects spread before him—a handful of gold coins stamped with emblems Tal didn’t recognize, three perfect, round pearls, bits of multicolored sea glass, sharks’ teeth, and a small rusted dagger. “I don’t see trouble. I do see a problem, however,” Tal said, leveling a scowl at the merchant.

The man cleared his throat and changed his tune. “No, never mind. There isn’t a problem,” the merchant said quickly, setting the pearl down.

Tal looked to Athlen. “Is there a problem?” he asked softer.

“My friend’s mother is sick,” Athlen said. He ran his sleeve over his face. “She won’t stop coughing. My friend says she needs medicine. They can’t afford it, so I’m trying to buy it, but…” He gestured weakly to the cache of objects.

Tal nodded.

Eyeing the mess, he picked out a pearl and set it neatly in front of the merchant.

“Give him everything he asks for.”

“Now, sir, this pearl isn’t enough for the items he wants, especially the root. It’s scarce this time of year and—”

Tal scowled, waving away the complaints, and the merchant fell silent. Tal reached into the small pouch at his side and pulled out a piece of family gold stamped with the royal insignia and placed it next to the pearl. He tapped it with the finger that prominently displayed his own signet ring.

“Royal,” the merchant breathed.

“Prince Taliesin,” Tal corrected. “Youngest son to Queen Carys.”

The man’s eyes widened, and a smattering of murmurs spread out like ripples in a pond in the crowd around them. Shay wouldn’t approve. Garrett undoubtedly would.

The merchant gave a short bow. “Your Highness, it is an honor to have you at my humble stall.”

“Give the boy what he wants.”

“Yes, of course.” He scurried away, collecting the items into a bag.

Athlen’s lips twitched into a smile. “Prince?”

Tal shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing.” Athlen smiled, eyes crinkling. “You’ve saved me twice now. I should thank you.”

“Please don’t.”

Athlen tilted his head. He studied Tal for a long moment, brown eyes soft, fingertips tapping against his mouth. “I know,” he said, snapping his fingers. He sorted through his collection and picked out a jagged shark’s tooth. He took Tal’s hand, and Tal shuddered at the cool sensation of Athlen’s skin against his own. Athlen turned Tal’s hand over, pressed the tooth gently into his palm, and closed his fingers over it. “There.”

Tal clutched the tooth, its point biting into the heel of his hand. It was something children found on the beach, worthless as a shell or a mermaid’s purse. Certainly not as valuable as a pearl or a piece of gold or even a rusted dagger. Tal had been given many gifts over his lifetime, all lavish and expensive, meant to curry favor if from members of the court, or to look pretty in his room or on his person if from his family. This gift confused him and delighted him in a way that touched his core. His heart fluttered like a butterfly within the cage of his body, and he pressed his closed fist to his chest. “Thank you.”

A flush spread over the high curves of Athlen’s cheeks, obscuring the smattering of freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose.

Athlen gathered up the rest of his mess and shoved the items, including the pearls and gold and glass, into his pockets as if they were all equal. His trousers sagged with the weight of them. With Athlen’s attention elsewhere, Tal tucked the shark’s tooth into his breast pocket