“I can’t say I recommend pregnancy, but the mating situation is hard to beat, and the babies are a ton of fun,” Eloise added.

“Congratulations.” I managed a small smile. “I keep telling Triton he should’ve picked someone who was actually on board with the whole breeding thing.”

The man snorted. “I’m sure the king took that well.”

Eloise flashed me a grin. “I’ve only met five women from Earth who were actually excited about the prospect of trying to rebuild a population, and they were all baby hungry before they were mated. There are about four hundred of us now. When you fall in love with a merrae man, and you’re constantly around babies, you get the fever.”

My forehead creased. “What fever?” No one had mentioned a sickness.

“Baby fever.” She wiggled her eyebrows, and I couldn’t suppress a laugh.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen to me.”

“Have you met a merbaby?”

“No,” I admitted.

“You’ll see. The fever catches quick.” She patted my arm as if in condolence. “How does the king feel about your tattoos?”

I frowned again. “What do you mean? He hasn’t mentioned them.”

“Merrae don’t do tattoos. The king’s the only one who has one, and it’s because of the throne. None of the rest of us do. Even the women from Earth.” There was a pause before Eloise elbowed her mate again. “Don’t tell me I can’t ask her about the king. I’m being friendly. Snooping is part of friendship.”

They must’ve been communicating mentally. I’d clearly missed something.

My frown did deepen, though. “What do they have against tattoos?”

“I don’t know. No one will give me a real answer. It’s probably the only thing I still don’t understand about merrae culture.”

“Even your mate won’t tell you?” I glanced at the guy again before refocusing on the hallway.

“No. He keeps giving me vague answers.”

The man grunted.

“What? You do,” she pointed out, before looking back at me. “I assumed they have something against them, but if the king mated with you, that must not be right.”

“Maybe he hates them and just hasn’t said anything. He asked me about one yesterday,” I remarked.

“Your mate can’t hate a part of your body,” Eloise protested. “It’s not possible. Is it?” She looked back at her mate.

He grunted again.

Clearly he wasn’t committing to an agreement in either direction.

Triton could totally hate my tattoos.

I wasn’t sure whether to be bothered or excited by that. Maybe if he hated my tattoos, he would back off on the baby thing. Not that he’d been pushy about it anyway. He had technically helped me sneak that birth control plant back to his room.

Maybe he didn’t want to have a kid with me at all.

Maybe—