Secrets Among the Tides: Royal Secrets, #1

By Aleera Anaya Ceres

The only life Maisie Fauna knows is one of poverty and tragedy. Years of war killed off her friends and neighbors one by one. So when the crown's soldiers arrive to take their pick of able-bodied mer, it's no surprise that the Captain of the Royal Guard takes an interest in her.

Only, it's not so she can fight.

The Princess of Thalassar is missing and to save the kingdom, they'll need a lookalike. They'll need Maisie. And to help the poor, forgotten mer of Thalassar, she'll do whatever it takes.

She didn't take into account that she'd be suffering the scrutiny of her guard, the attractions of a crown prince, the temptations of the kingdom's most wanted criminal, or the various attempts on her life.

The kingdom's secrets are deadlier than she could have ever imagined and Maisie soon discovers that the reason the princess disappeared was because she knew too much…

…and someone wanted her dead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aleera Anaya Ceres
• Release date: Nov 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223219309

Book preview

Contents

Trigger & Content Warnings

Pronunciation guide:

Full title page

Map of Lagoona

Map of 7 Kingdoms

Maisie

Maisie

Tiberius

Maisie

Tiberius

Maisie

Tiberius

Maisie

Tiberius

Maisie

Tiberius

Maisie

Kai

Tiberius

Maisie

Maisie

Kai

Maisie

Kai

Maisie

Kai

Maisie

Tiberius

Maisie

Elias

Maisie

Kai

Tiberius

Maisie

Tiberius

Kai

Maisie

Elias

Tiberius

Maisie

Elias

Maisie

Her Alien Merman FREE NOVELLA

The Hybrid Trilogy FREE NOVELLAS

Want a Fae romance series?

Mershifting Bikers in an MC

Monster why choose standalone

A mermaid princess switch

Mermaids fighting the patriarchy!

Cheesy romantic vampires

Bloodthirsty sirens

A dark morally gray mer romance

About Aleera Anaya Ceres

Also by Aleera Anaya Ceres

Trigger & Content Warnings

This series contains content, themes, situations, and tropes that may not be suitable for all readers.

Some of the triggering concepts include:

-Abelism against disabled main character.

-Classism

-Violence

-Attempted murder

-War in a fantasy setting

-Poison

This book also features themes, situations, and tropes such as:

-Virgin FMC

-A slow burn romance (there is no sex in book 1)

-Bisexual mermen and MM relationships

-Cliffhanger ending (the series is complete, don't worry!)

-Group sex scenes

-Angry sex scenes

Pronunciation guide:

Thalassar: Tal-uh-sahr

Kappur: Kay-purr

Draconi: Dray-cone-e

Iol: Yo-l

Ventlair: Vent-lair

Gvulis: Vool-liss

Brague: Bra-aag

Maisie

Deep in the freshwaters of Lagoona, in a backwater pond of the mer Kingdom of Thalassar, the current stirred. The waters today were in a torrent, a sure sign that a storm up top and had only just begun. It was a cold and dark day, like the skies reflected the somber mood of the ocean, rivers, and ponds below.

Thick forests of cattails beat a relentless, violent, back-and-forth rhythm against the walls outside of Tides’ Tavern, and I was sure that by the end of the night, the place would need repairs. Made of two-legger materials that had fallen into our waters, the structure of the tavern was already weak and shabby. Square with rotting, wooden walls, algae and moss covered nearly every surface inch. The ceiling was a sheet of metal, tied down in place with rope from a fisherman’s net. There was a second floor where Josiah—the tavern’s owner—lived and it was just as ill-kept as the bottom floor.

Not that anyone seemed to mind the drear of the place. It was still one of the best in Lagoona because food and drink were both affordable and tasty. The customers didn’t seem to mind that gators swarmed through the backyard. They knew that they were safe as long as they didn’t venture further north into the breeding grounds.

I wished I would have been smart enough to realize that sooner, but I couldn’t blame Josiah for where he’d decided to settle. Perhaps it was because he was from up north. From the swamplands, deep in the bayou that bordered our own little town. He’d wanted to keep his past close and so he had. Hence, the gators.

Despite the day, the tavern was full, though voices were kept as low as a funeral dirge as opposed to the usual loud chatter that tended to fill the place. I could only blame one thing for the quiet, and that was the Selection that would take place tomorrow.

I didn’t want to think too hard on it because I knew it would fill me with emotions that beat in tandem with the currents. Rage. Disgust. Fear. But not thinking about it, not talking about it, not accepting the feelings inside my chest seemed like I was somehow laying down and letting the royals of Thalassar slit my throat. They had soldiers by the thousands, but still they went from village to village, selecting able-bodied mer to fight in their war against the enemy kingdom of Kappur.

Any one of the mer currently in the tavern could be chosen tomorrow to go and fight off an enemy we scarcely knew about. What we did know was speculation, whispers that reached us from the palace. That, and the deaths of our loved ones. That knowledge made me smile wider at them, if only to brighten their moods before the truth came crashing down on their shoulders.

Another bowl? I asked one of the customers, a merman with webbed hands and feet like a frog.

His face had been etched in grave lines. At my words, he startled, looking up at me and at the warm smile on my face. His amphibious features softened as he pushed the bowl and cup towards me. Fish eye stew, he said quietly. And a bit o’ ale.

Picking up the bowl—a large two-legger plastic hat—and the cup, I turned and swam behind the counter. Josiah was shining cups with a strip of kelp as I passed him, going to the kitchen in the back. Enormous pots sat on small mountains of sand on the ground. They were like small volcanoes, containing hot blue lava on the inside that bubbled out heat to keep the food warm. I went to one of the pots and ladled up a spoonful of thick stew and then poured fermented ale into his cup before taking it back to him.

Enjoy your meal, sir. I smiled.

He returned the gesture before grabbing the bowl and dunking the contents into his wide mouth.

I was already moving towards the next table, stopping to take the order of the merman there. How are you doin’ today, Christof?

The distracted merman almost startled out of his chair at my inquiry. I’d never known the seamstress’ son to be jumpy, but he was staring at me with wide eyes and a panicked expression that made me want to offer comfort.

Oh. He chuckled nervously. I— He broke off. A little nervous? I don’t know. Just want a meal before—

He didn’t need to finish his sentence. I already knew what he meant.

Before Selection.

I’ll bring you some stew.

Once the plate was in front of him, he devoured it with loud slurping noises, earlier troubles all but forgotten.

If there was one thing mer came to Tides’ Tavern for, it was the food. Josiah teased that they only came to see me because I was so exotic. I thought he was full of sand. Although, my features were rather extraordinary for a pond mer. My hair reached down to my waist and bordered between dark purple and blue. Not quite one but not the other, either. My tail shone in the same shade as my hair, while my skin was the color of a pearl, that strange, shining combination of pink and white. I always knew I looked different from the mer here with their webbed hands and feet, snake tails, or dull green scales.

I stood out, but by no stretch of the imagination was I beautiful. I had a plain face, with a slightly upturned nose and wide eyes. My frame was thin and tall, and even if my coloring was pretty, I knew what the truth of my clothes hid. Scars ran down the side of my tail and trailed up to my hip and waist. I swam with a limp, due to the aquamarine fin on the side of my tail being shredded. When I first started working with Josiah, I’d been attacked by a gator. My own stupidity had almost cost me my life, and my body had never been the same since. The scars made navigating the deep pond slightly difficult.

Still, Josiah liked to tease me. So I’d self-consciously taken to wearing my hair up in a hat to hide it. My tail was harder to hide, but at least the long, dull tunics I wore covered most of it.

I leaned against the counter on my forearms, my tail curling leisurely under me as I smiled at my boss. He didn’t return the gesture. He shined the cups with great fervor, his knuckles going white with the effort. He wasn’t even looking in my general direction. His eyes were glued to the ivory clam shell that rested on a high shelf behind the counter. The center of the shell held a floating bubble, which glowed a bright yellow and depicted moving images.

It was the fanciest thing in Tides’ Tavern.

Despite the poverty in Lagoona, all mer were required by the king and queen to have a telly shell. The royals liked to project images all over the kingdom of their grandeur, if only so that we would be informed of the events at the capitol.

Josiah complained that the royals wasted valuable resources, like the mages and their magic, only to fabricate outlandish stories that they wanted the mer to see.

Mages were rare magic-wielders. The seven sea kingdoms were filled with their own special magic and a science that differed from what existed on two-legger territory. It was a mixture of both. Magic and science blending together to create the world we lived in. It allowed things like soup to stay within the confines of its bowl instead of drifting through the water. Our own foods were denser than two-legger liquids, so it wasn’t too complicated to comprehend the differences.

Josiah thought differently. They’re trying to manipulate us! he said angrily, gesturing with the strip of kelp towards the image of the King and Queen of Thalassar greeting the foreign Prince of Draconi.

The images had no color to them, but they were high-quality, and I felt my attention snag on the foreign prince. His features were rather striking, his expression severe as he bowed stiffly to the king and queen.

They’re trying to distract us with announcements of the royal wedding so that we can take our eyes off the war. It’s their way, you see. They dangle shiny things in front of us so we don’t realize that they’re sharpening the knives intended for our backs.

I rolled my eyes but didn’t dare interrupt. Josiah was all about conspiracy theories. He spoke of nothing else and since he had an audience, I knew he was just getting started. I wondered if he was hoping to start a riot, to raise arms against the King and Queen of Thalassar. A part of me relished in the idea of a revolution. I’d seen first-hand how we suffered during the Selection. It had been going on for years now. And none who were chosen ever came back. Those who tried deserting suffered the consequences of their actions.

They send out the poorest of us to fight a battle they started while they lounge about in their fancy castle surrounded by experienced soldiers, planning the princess’ wedding! I’d like to see the king go out and die beside the best of us.

I hissed from between my teeth and glanced warily over my shoulder. Quiet, Josiah, I warned. You know they double security ‘round these parts before the Selection. If a guard hears you, you could be executed.

Josiah snorted. Let them come! he shouted. Not even royal guards are strong enough to get past the gators!

I sighed, knowing he wouldn’t let up any time soon. He’d scream and shout for an hour more and the customers would scream and shout with him, as they always did. But in the end, nothing would change. We were nothing; we had no power and little resources. We’d never start a revolution or raise arms against the capitol city. To speak of it was to welcome death. To not speak of it meant cowardice. Living under these circumstances was a double-edged sword.

I turned my attention back to the telly, frowning. The images moved around, waving, elongating, and stretching with the movement of the bubble. In them, the Prince of Draconi sat next to the Princess of Thalassar at a state dinner. The prince’s face was grave, and even I could tell he had no desire to be there. His fiancée, however, smiled widely, relishing in the attention.

I rolled my eyes at their images, knowing Josiah was right. How could they sit there all day, eating from diamond-encrusted silverware while their kingdom suffered greatly from the effects of their war? It wasn’t just Lagoona who suffered, but the swamplands and most other backwater towns who sent their young mer off to war. The war had led them to poverty and near starvation, it had instilled fear and had made life nearly unbearable. Out of fear of being Selected, some mer would rather try and swim away. Those who were caught were executed in Artisan’s Square to remind the rest of us what should happen if we tried neglecting our duties. A law, cruel and barbaric, passed down by the royal family.

A sudden, violent part of me had the urge to reach through that bubble and strangle the princess on her pretty little throne. I’d seen enough images of her to know she seemed as daft as a tadpole. I turned my gaze abruptly away from the image of her and the prince trailing about through the palace gardens.

Spoiled is what they are, Josiah continued.

I reached out to place my hand over his own. He stopped polishing the cup to look at me. You’ve been cleaning that same cup for thirty minutes, I pointed out. How ‘bout I take over?

His ruddy features softened as he offered me a warm smile, revealing his sharp teeth. Josiah was slightly robust, with gray hair that was cropped short. His skin was covered with the gray and green ridges of an alligator’s scales, and his tail was long and thick, with stumpy fat legs at the end. His eyes were yellow with slit pupils that would have been frightening had I not known the merman my entire life.

You’re a blessing straight from the gods, Maisie. He released his hold on both kelp and cup to reach out and cradle my cheek for a split second before pulling away. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll pray to them that you aren’t Selected tomorrow.

His words were a reminder that I wasn’t completely safe and that I never would be until this war was over. Tomorrow was the Selection. Up until now, I’d avoided such a fate. The tides could turn at any moment. No one—save for business owners, mothers, mer younger than sixteen, and the elderly—were exempt from it. I was nineteen and could be chosen at any moment.

The war had been going on for as long as I could remember; the Selection had begun when I’d been thirteen. The royals had probably been tired of sending their own into battle in a war that was happening leagues away, where the borders of Thalassar and Kappur met.

Despite the fear gnawing at the center of my stomach, I smiled at my boss. You’ll not be rid of me so easily. I plan on inheriting the place once you die. I winked, and he laughed.

You’re meant for bigger things than running Tides’ Tavern for the rest of your life, Mais.

Yeah, yeah. I waved him off before pulling more cups towards me to continue shining. As I did my job, my gaze frequently found the telly, looking at repeat images of the princess and her prince, Josiah’s words playing over and over again in my mind.

I wanted to desperately believe what he was saying, that somehow I was meant for a life bigger than this one. That I was destined to help the mer here in a way that extended to more than a smile to ease their fears. But that was utterly ridiculous. I wasn’t a princess. I was no one but an orphaned mer from the backwaters of Lagoona.

And never, in the history of anything, had a backwater mer made a worthwhile change in the world.

Artisan’s Square was located in the centermost part of the small pond of Lagoona. It was one of the prettiest sights because it boasted the market. Every Finsday, artisans from all over the ocean came to set up their stands and sell their wares. Everything from foreign foods to garments and jewelry. Despite the poverty of Lagoona, the market still burst with merchants.

I couldn’t afford half the things displayed there. Not many could except the lords and ladies of Lagoona, whose rich homes bordered the Square. Though it was ways away from my own home, I still liked to visit after work to see what it was they had to offer.

Pearls! Get yer pearls here!

"How ‘bout a lovely necklace for the merfriend? The diamonds are real."

Beautiful rubies, straight from Her Majesty, the queen’s crown. Half off!

I inhaled the scent of the market. During the day, when the sunlight from up top pierced through to illuminate the waters below, the yellow glow of it would hit the jewels just right, casting an underwater rainbow against the pond floor. Colors of magenta, red, cerulean blue, and gold would dance with the movement of the water. It was always an enrapturing sight.

The stands all seemed to blend together to the point where it was hard to tell where one ended and another began. They were made up of all materials ranging from deep sea coral shelves, as well as wood and metal. They used the finest looking sea silk as mantels, the bright colors obviously more expensive than anything I’d ever own.

Lined up on one half of the square, the other half was occupied by a very large dais that was used for public announcements and executions. In the middle of the Square sat a gargantuan nautilus shell, its opening of the chamber spilling out bright pink water lilies. As far as sights went around here, it was all we had besides the cattail forest and the alligator breeding grounds.

I navigated my way through the crowd at a leisurely pace, bumping past locals as well as soldiers keeping watch. The day was almost over, nighttime soon approaching, and already some vendors were packing up to leave. My eyes darted everywhere at once, taking in what sights and colors from the outside world I could. Coral, shells, sea glass and jewelry; some vendors even sold two-legger objects thrown into the sea.

I paused before a weapons’ table, my gaze holding on a winking, black blade.

Like what you see, little mer? the vendor asked. He was a surly merman with spikes trailing from his forehead down to his spine. His body was a pale gray, mottled with brown spots. He held the blade up before him for my examination, balancing it on his palm. It was the length of my forearm with a sharp tip but curved edge. It was polished black, immaculate. The hilt was studded with a single sapphire jewel. Polished obsidian, the merman continued. A rare blade, made by Thalassar’s finest. He handed it to me, placing it in my reluctant fingertips. Go on, he urged. Give it a swing.

Tightening my grip on it, I took a stroke back, observing the blade as if it would move itself. I’d never held a weapon before, certainly nothing this expensive or of this caliber. I could practically feel how the blade oozed coins and knew immediately it was priceless.

Go on.

I took a deep breath and swung the blade in an arc over my head. I had no idea what I was doing and felt entirely too ridiculous, like a child playing at soldier.

The blade differed from a kitchen knife, its purpose clear in the weight as I made a series of jabs. This blade was meant to defend, to protect. It was a blade made for battle. For killing.

I froze, holding the weapon away from me, breathing heavily, my shredded fin pulsing from the exertion.

Very light, as you can see.

It is very pretty, I observed.

The