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Naia’s sandals skidded on the asphalt. She looked around, trying to recall which way they came from before parting ways with Yuki and Akane when they’d first arrived.

Ronin pulled his hand from Naia’s, his eyes scouring her face for answers. “Naia, talk to me.”

She looked behind them to make sure Solaris hadn’t caught up, and then her eyes found Ronin, pleading. “I need to get off this island.”

Ronin studied her for a long second. “Okay. I’ll need to go home and get my bag?—”

“No! We need to leave right now.”

Ronin followed Naia’s continual glances behind him. His nonchalant attitude tightened into a serious disposition. There were a million questions he could demand answers to before agreeing to help her. But to Naia’s surprise, he did not. His cooperation continued to baffle her.

He strolled over to the forest wrapping around the festival grounds and looked over his shoulder at her. “We have no time to waste then. I know a shortcut to the ferry. Let’s go.”

5

A GODDESS WITHOUT A TITLE

The Past

“Rumors floated around the palace the day of Naia’s birth nine years ago. The High Goddess of the Sea refused to hold her first born as it cried fresh from her womb. Take her away and feed her.” Via mimicked a wave of dismissal Naia’s mother supposedly gave. “Lady Mira came to visit her once a week, and to this day, has never held her daughter. Lady Naia was raised by her father.”

Pushing the soles of her feet into the floor of the kitchen, Naia pressed her spine against the wall as fat tears welled in her eyes, regretting her decision to sneak into the kitchen and ask Via for one of her heavenly sea berry pastries.

The other servant, one Naia did not have any recollection of ever seeing before, peeled husks off shrimp in a bucket of water on the wooden counter. “Poor Lady Naia. What did she do to deserve such coldness?”

“Lady Naia was born without a title.” Via’s voice stiffened with judgment.

The sound of shrimp husks crinkling in between fingers paused. “Is that truly so terrible?”

“Bite your tongue, you foolish girl! It’s an abomination! Lady Naia is the daughter of two High Deities.”

Naia flinched.

They lie. Mother loves me all the same, with or without a title.

She rushed out of the kitchen. The knots in her stomach had devoured her appetite.

It was later during their dinner feast, propped in her father’s lap beside her mother, when the unsettling conversation between the two servants haunted Naia’s thoughts.

Not once had she ever sat in her mother’s lap, much less held her hand.

Naia looked between her parents, recognizing their stark differences.

Scattered through Father’s black hair were small white flowers he referred to as baby’s breath, and cheeks scruffy with a beard Naia enjoyed brushing her forehead against. He was consistently draped in deep, jeweled tone cloaks, and wearing soft smiles and gentle looks.

Mother was blank expressions; mute and observant, like a hawk emitting a daunting aura that instilled a timidness when approaching her. Eyes the color of chalk, never able to fully grasp which way her pupils were directed.

Naia climbed down from her father’s lap, determined to prove those servants wrong.

Relatives of her mother filled the vaulted great hall. A long line of cousins and uncles and aunts. Names forgotten, unless they possessed an unforgettable trait—like her Aunt Davina who had eyes the color of sea glass, or her Uncle Enyo’s tentacles for a beard—a result of his shapeshifting form, having spent most of his time as a creature of the sea.

“Mother,” Naia said.

Her mother sat poised with her hands resting on the arms of her gold wingback chair, indifferent to Naia’s voice.

On the table in front of Mother was a goblet of wine, nothing else. In Naia’s nine years, she’d never witnessed her eat food.

Naia admired her mother’s long, silver strands braided elegantly down one shoulder, adorned with golden jewels. Tucked behind her ear was a blush-pink carnation.