Page 162

“There is something I would like to show you.” Eyphah slipped from the log she was sitting on. Her interruption didn’t sit well with Valda, who slipped her hold on Maris to frown at her.

“What is it?” Maris asked.

Pointing at House of Proteus, Eyphah said, “I’d rather show you.”

***

House of Proteus was bigger than House of Arago.

Valda took in the details and the decorations of the third-floor room. Like House of Arago, Proteus had living space on the first floor for big crowds like the one they had when she and Maris arrived. The second floor were rooms, and Eyphah was the one that lived there by the looks of it.

Valda frowned at that.

Eyphah was the leader of the Sealians, and Valda found it incredibly suspicious how she was so easily slackening her iron grip on the people to hand it to Maris.

As they went to the third floor, Valda could tell that the small attic-like room was used as a worshiping space. The room wasn’t big enough to fit more than five people. It was small and filled with seashells, paintings of beaches, sea stars, and drawings of powerful waves. In the center of what appeared to be an altar, was a trident. The dark metal reflected the candles; its three spears glistened, sharp, and dangerous. Valda couldn’t tear her eyes away from it, and by the looks of it, neither could Maris.

“I would’ve wanted this moment to be between Sealians, but—”

“Anything you have to say to me you can tell me in front of Valda.”

Eyphah nodded and turned to the trident. Carefully and reverently, Eyphah clasped the weapon and pulled it away from its spot.

“This is Poseidon’s Trident. It belonged to King Aegaeon—your birth father.”

Valda held her breath, as did Maris. The trident looked so big and heavy in Eyphah’s hand. By the calluses she had on her skin, Valda was sure that Eyphah was a fighter, used to holding weapons, but Maris was anything but a soldier. She watched intently as Maris moved her delicate, smooth hands to grab the trident. The moment Eyphah released it, the weight made Maris’s stance falter. Valda moved as fast as she could and grabbed the weapon and pulled it back to her mate.

“It is heavy,” Maris said—an understatement.

“It was his weapon of choice.”

“Got it?” Valda asked, ensuring that Maris held her ground before releasing the trident.

“I do, darling. Thank you.”

Valda nodded and moved her hand away and hooked it behind her.

“It’s yours now, Maris. The trident, the people, everything. I can’t wield it; it must be you.”

Maris held the trident with both hands. Valda could see her muscles move under her skin as she tried to keep it upright and inspect the delicate designs around its shaft and spears. The soft, intricate lines made it look more like decoration than a weapon.

“I don’t want it.”

Valda frowned, and so did Eyphah.

“What? Why?” Valda asked.

“I don’t think I need a weapon by my side to rule or to be respected.”

Eyphah scoffed while Valda moved her hand to touch the Heaven Sword dangling from her waist. “You need to have a heavy hand, Maris. You can’t just smile and hope for the best when ruling.”

“I can’t believe I am saying this, but I agree with Valda. You can’t pretend there will always be peace.”

“Do you even know how to hold a sword?” Valda asked again. “I could teach you.”

“There is no need for that, really. I do believe in having conversations and resolving conflicts with words, rather than blood.”

It was Valda’s turn to scoff. “Maris, please. I understand that you wish not to engage in violence, but having a weapon and being able to defend yourself is important.”