“Fred suggested to Artur that she drive them there and he readily agreed. That was how she found out Artur hated being closed up in automobiles. “For God’s sake,” she said, amazed, “you’re perfectly safe.” Artur had his legs drawn up under his chin. His seat belt was tightened to the point of asphyxiation. He was trying not to huddle and failing. “All these metal boxes, hurtling by at ridiculous speeds. Madness, madness.” “You’ve never been in a car before?” She was dumbfounded. Then remembered ...this was a merman who lived at the bottom of the Black Sea. Okay. Not such a ridiculous idea, but still . . . “No. I was on a train, once . . . in Boston. There was more room on the train. I could walk around on the train, although the king of the train did not like that.” She managed not to groan. “Don’t tell me. You’re claustrophobic.” “I don’t know that term,” he said, and she didn’t think he’d ever been so white before. “It means that you don’t like small, enclosed spaces, um, mighty prince who conquers worlds and women with green hair.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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