“I don’t know why you’re so interested in those,” Jason says dryly. “They’re just shells.”

He doesn’t mention the fact he spent nearly five hours yesterday searching for them. He’s the second prince of Atlantis, he can do whatever he wants. It’s not like he picked out seashells in your favorite color for you.

He’s sitting in a secluded cove with you. Watching you flutter about, typical fairy things. At least, he thinks it’s typical. He’s only known other merfolk.