The Doctor's Tall Tales

I had been warned that the Deepmarket was full of dishonest people.

What nobody had mentioned was that I happened to be dating one of its most celebrated liars.

“Caspian.”

“Hey there, Barnacle.”

“I have questions.”

“Wonderful. And I have answers. We make an excellent pair already.”

Doctor Caspian Agare the Second was stretched across my bed, looking entirely too comfortable. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and helped himself to the fried pastries I’d bought that afternoon.

Outside the balcony doors, Port Shimmer was settling into evening. The harbor was still busy, though the sounds of the waterfront had softened beneath the calls of distant seabirds.

I had hoped for a calm evening but I had brought home some interesting information.

“While I was at the Deepmarket today,” I began, “I heard several extraordinary stories about you.”

He stopped chewing and smiled.

“Oh, this ought to be good.”

I pulled up a chair and sat opposite him.

“I would like you to explain yourself.”

“Very well, my sweet Kiarla.” He brushed a few crumbs from his shirt and straightened. “Three stories from the extraordinary life of Caspian Agare the Second.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Don’t interrupt. I need to establish an atmosphere.”

I looked pointedly at his open shirt.

“You’re sitting on my bed with your shirt half open. Just go on, then.”

He settled against the pillows with the satisfaction of a man about to deliver the greatest performance of his life.

The Sea Serpent Incident

“Picture it, sweetheart. The middle of the Iridescent Sea. A terrible storm, and an entire vessel at the mercy of a monstrous sea serpent.”

He extended one arm toward the balcony as though the creature might emerge from the harbor at any moment.

“The beast was enormous. Teeth like daggers. Eyes glowing with the rage of a thousand—”

“The serpent,” I interrupted. “How long was it?”

“Bloody enormous. Longer than Vertel. Anyway, there I was. A young physician, handsome beyond reason, standing between certain death and twenty terrified sailors.”

I had already identified several problems with this account, beginning with his entirely unnecessary description of his own appearance.

“And how did you defeat it?” I asked.

“With my surgical forceps.”

I laughed.

It slipped out before I could stop it.

“You attacked a sea serpent with forceps?”

“These were excellent forceps,” he assured me. “Finest craftsmanship in all of Tacitra.”

I stared at him.

“What did you do with them?”

“Extracted one of its teeth.”

For a moment, I could only blink.

“Agare, are you telling me that you performed dentistry on a sea serpent?”

“Saved the ship, didn’t I? Once the tooth came out, it stopped attacking us.”

He folded his hands comfortably over his stomach.

“The crew offered to name their firstborn children after me.”

“Of course they did!”

“Had to refuse, naturally. Can’t have twenty little Caspians running about.”

I rubbed my forehead.

“You are utterly full of shit.”

“That is an unkind assessment of a medical professional.”

I pointed toward him.

“Next story.”

His grin widened.

“Oh, you’re going to love this one.”

I sincerely doubted it.

The Princess of the Nepen Crown

“Have I ever told you about Princess Aquila?” he asked.

I lowered my hand.

“The Princess Aquila? Of the Nepen Crown?”

“How many Princess Aquilas do you think I’ve dated?”

I nearly knocked over my cup.

“You dated Princess Aquila?”

“For a brief but very passionate period, yes.”

“How did you even meet her?” I asked.

“Royal banquet. I was invited as an honored guest.”

“For what?”

“My medical expertise.”

I took off my spectacles, cleaned them, and put them back on.

“Continue.”

“The princess approached me beneath a moonlit balcony. Said she’d never seen a man quite like me.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“We fell madly in love.”

“In one evening?”

“Oh, yeah. Eventually she begged me to remain at court. Offered me riches, influence, an estate overlooking the royal gardens.”

He sighed with exaggerated regret, as though the entire affair still weighed heavily upon him.

“And let me guess,” I said. “You declined all of that?”

“Couldn’t live like that, Barnacle.”

“Like what?”

“All those bloody rules. Ceremonies for everything. Formal dinners. Restrictions on smoking.”

I looked at him in disbelief.

“You broke her heart because you couldn’t smoke?”

He shrugged.

I threw a pillow at him. He caught it against his chest, laughing.

“And Princess Aquila was so desperately in love with you?” I demanded.

“Can’t blame the poor woman.”

“You insufferable bastard!”

He laughed harder, clearly delighted with himself.

I folded my arms.

“Just move on to the third story already.”

“Ah.” He tossed the pillow aside. “This one concerns my dear friend Vertel.”

I straightened in my chair.

“Good. Someone I can actually question.”

“You’ll find him unreliable.”

“He works for the undersea harbor patrol. That’s his entire job. To be reliable.”

“And yet,” Caspian said gravely, “terrible at swimming.”

I stared at him.

“Excuse me?”

The Swimming Competition

“I beat him in a race once.”

“You beat Vertel,” I repeated.

“A merman. At swimming. In the damn ocean?”

“Where else would we swim, my sweet?”

I threw both hands into the air.

“HE HAS A TAIL!”

“And I’ve got excellent shoulders, sweetheart. Have you not noticed?”

I had, unfortunately, noticed.

That was entirely beside the point.

“Explain the race.”

“Simple enough. From the customs landing to the eastern buoy. First man there wins.”

“And you won? How?”

“Determination and superior athletic conditioning.”

I stared at him. He stared back, his expression serious.

Then I started laughing and could not stop.

The image of Caspian attempting to outswim an actual merman in open water was ridiculous. The idea of him succeeding was beyond belief.

“History is written by the victors,” he announced.

I laughed harder.

He took advantage of my temporary inability to speak and reached for another pastry.

I snatched the plate away.

“You’ve had enough!”

“Oh, come on, Barnacle.”

I moved the pastries out of his reach. “Now, which of those stories is actually true?”

He considered me for a moment.

Then he smiled.

“None of them. Not a bloody one, sweetheart.”

“The serpent?”

“Never met him.”

“Princess Aquila?”

“Wouldn’t know the woman if she walked into this room wearing her own crown.”

“Vertel?”

“Would beat me to that buoy before I’d finished putting on my trousers.”

I stared at him.

He looked back at me with the maddening satisfaction of a man who had just accomplished something extraordinary.

“You’ve spent the entire evening LYING TO ME!”

“Entertaining you, my sweet. Important distinction.”

I stood up.

He immediately raised both hands.

“Easy now. I’m a physician!”

“So am I. I know precisely where to hit you!”

His laughter filled the room.

I had never encountered another human being so thoroughly delighted by his own dishonesty.

“Wait, wait,” he managed. “I’ve got one more.”

“No!”

“One true story.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Swear on my grandfather’s apothecary.”

I hesitated.

He rarely invoked his grandfather, and the unexpected seriousness of the promise made me reconsider.

“Fine,” I said at last. “One more. If you’re lying again, you’re sleeping on the balcony.”

Caspian placed the pillow beside him and sat upright.

“All right, Barnacle. Listen carefully.”

One True Story

“Once upon a time, there was a physician aboard a fine old ship in Saltwake.”

I sighed.

“Talented too,” he continued. “Respected by his patients. Admired by his colleagues.”

“Already sounds suspicious.”

He ignored me.

“Unfortunately, his peaceful existence was interrupted by the arrival of an extraordinarily annoying doctor.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“She came from Ariga. Wore expensive-looking spectacles. Carried a tablet everywhere. Had very strong opinions about medical supplies.”

“Caspian!”

“Anyway, she boarded his ship and immediately started telling him everything he was doing wrong.”

“A public service.”

“She called him a rat.”

“He deserved it.”

“And threatened to have him investigated.”

“The doctor in question was picking a lock with surgical instruments!”

“Terrible woman. Absolutely beautiful, though,” he said.

I stopped myself from arguing.

He reached for my hand, and I let him take it.

“Then something happened in Saltwake,” he continued. “Something neither of them could fix alone.”

His thumb moved slowly across my knuckles.

“They argued. Disagreed about damn near everything. But when people needed help, they worked together.”

He looked down at our joined hands.

“And together, those two stubborn bastards helped save Saltwake.”

The evening sounds drifted through the balcony doors.

I watched him, remembering the man I’d first encountered aboard the Silver Galleon. The infuriating ship’s doctor who had made it his personal mission to irritate me.

The same man who had never once hesitated when someone needed him.

“The ship’s doctor discovered something else along the way,” Caspian said.

“What was that?”

“He’d fallen hopelessly in love with the insufferable woman who’d inspected his infirmary.”

My chest tightened.

He smiled, but there was none of his usual mischief in it.

“Poor fool never stood a chance.”

I moved closer.

“And did she love him?”

“Oh, she thought he was a complete jackass.”

“She sounds intelligent.”

“Brilliant woman. Made his life hell.”

I laughed softly.

“Did she stay?”

He looked directly at me.

“She did. Not because she had to. Because she wanted to.”

For a moment, I could think of nothing to say.

I looked at the scar beneath his eye, then at the man who was waiting for my reply.

He had spent the entire evening describing himself as some extraordinary hero. A fearless adventurer. A royal heartbreaker. A man capable of outrunning a merman.

Yet the only story he’d told without exaggerating himself was the one about us.

He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles.

“And this one is true?” I asked.

“Every damn word.”

I leaned forward and kissed him.

His hand settled against my waist as he drew me closer, and I found myself smiling against his mouth.

When I finally pulled back, he was still watching me.

“Just one thing.”

“Hmm?”

“You really never dated Princess Aquila?”

“Never even met her.”

I tilted my head.

“I’d hate to discover I was competing with royalty.”

He laughed.

“Oh, my sweet Barnacle. A princess wouldn’t last ten minutes with me.”

“Neither would most women with a modicum of intelligence.”

“And yet, here you are, my darling Kiarla.”

“A lapse in judgment.”

“Of the most spectacular kind.”

I kissed him again and rested my forehead against his.

For once, neither of us seemed particularly interested in arguing.

“I think I like your fourth story best,” I whispered.

His hand moved gently along my back.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

I closed my eyes, perfectly content to remain there with him.

Then he cleared his throat.

“Although, there’s another marvelous tale I could tell you about a Galourian clockwork cat—”

“Nope!”

His laughter filled the room, and despite myself, I laughed with him.

Because the most insufferable doctor was mine.

And that, at least, was entirely true.