Arthur leaned against the ship’s rail, his weary blue eyes fixed on the endless expanse of the sea. The salt-laden wind ruffled his blonde hair, but he barely noticed. It had been weeks, weeks of nothing. No sightings. No signs. No mermaids.

“We need one for a spell,” the mage had insisted.

But Arthur still doubted they even existed. And the longer they drifted across the waves chasing myths, the less he believed they ever would.

He exhaled sharply, frustration tightening his jaw. Six months had passed since he reclaimed his throne, since he struck down Vortigern and ended his reign of tyranny. But peace had remained elusive. There was always something, always another battle, another duty, another crisis. Rebuilding the kingdom left little room for rest, and now, here he was, wasting precious time on what felt like a fool’s errand.

Then...

“Arthur!”

Tristan’s voice rang across the deck, urgent, disbelieving.

“Look! There’s one! A mermaid!”

Arthur’s head snapped up, his pulse quickening as he followed Tristan’s gaze to the rocky shore.

There she lay, utterly still as she laid on a rock. Damp hair clung to her pale chest, her delicate form half-shrouded by seafoam and shadow. But it was her tail that stole his breath.

Iridescent pink and shimmery white, it looked almost unreal, as though spun from the very essence of the sea itself. Each scale gleamed like a tiny gemstone, catching the light in dazzling ripples of color. The soft blush of rose melted into luminous coral, shifting with the movement of the waves, while the pearlescent white shimmered like moonlight on water.

For the first time in weeks, Arthur was speechless.

Mermaids were real.

And now, one lay right before him.