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Marek’s smile faltered for the first time. “Something changed her mind. I’ve been begging her to do this for years,” he said to me.

“Excuse me,” Nerys said. “The ‘her’ you’re speaking of is right here.”

Marek didn’t appear the least bit apologetic. He leaped from the rock and bowed deeply.

“Pardon, your majesty. I meant no offense.” He sat back down in as exaggerated a manner as he stood. By rights, Marek was wholly unlikable. And yet, I could see his appeal too… why she would be drawn to him.

Thankfully, as only a friend.

Because as Nerys marched over to Marek and swatted the back of his head as an older sister might to her wayward younger brother, my own thoughts were anything but brotherly.

Without warning, as the two continued to verbally spar over Nerys’s reversal on her decision to challenge the queen, a shape formed loosely in front of me. I turned toward the sea, as if distracted by its beauty.

This time, knowing the vision was coming, I was able to harness it using the same methods I’d learned years ago to sense and filter emotion. Blocking out everything—including Nerys and Marek’s conversation—I could see the figure more clearly. It was the seafarer himself, Marek on the deck of his ship, yelling orders. He appeared to be battling a brutal storm, and I could sense he was terrified.

But not of the storm.

He was terrified for a woman’s safety. Nerys?

A hand on my shoulder interrupted the vision.

“Rowan?”

Her touch was featherlight. Before I could stop it, that concern flooded into my senses. I’d not meant to read her emotion and immediately blocked it. I knew from my grandfather it would take years of practice to manage the merging of my old and new abilities.

For the first time in my life, I seriously considered the possibility of breaking The Keeper’s code. I wanted to tell her. Confess everything and work with her openly, as our goals were the same.

Our eyes met.

Not yet.

The voice was my grandfather’s, likely my own conjuring what he might sound like, whispering into my ear. And yet, if I could imagine what his advice might have been, those weren’t the words I would have imagined.

“I’m sorry,” I said, hating to mislead her. “I was deep in thought.”

A partial truth.

“Let’s see your sea-binding then,” Marek said.

I wanted to kiss her again. To tell Nerys everything. Instead, I simply watched as she walked forward until she was ankle-deep in water and lifted both arms.

Raising her chin, Nerys took a deep breath, pressed her hands together and moved them slowly outwards, both palms down. Her shoulders dropped, and nothing seemed to be happening at first. Little by little, though, the waves began to calm.

Dropping to her knees, as if the weight of the water pressed down on her, she continued to hold her arms outright. Little by little, as far as the eye could see, the ocean’s waves began to dissipate. Where moments ago, they crashed along the rocks, the sea was now placid.

I looked at Marek. He looked at me.

I had no idea how Queen Lirael’s abilities fared against Nerys, but one thing was clear: Marek was in awe too, and unlike me, he had likely seen similar skills performed many times before.

Nerys had calmed the sea.

I opened my mouth to ask about it, but no words seemed adequate. Instead, I opened myself up to him and felt his reverence.

Without warning, Nerys stood and shot her arms into the air. All at once, the waves returned with a vengeance that even I could feel, as if they’d been bound and were now set free. Her shoulders sagged, the effort of such a skill clear, and Nerys turned to us.

Her gaze found mine, weary but resolute. The truth struck me with the force of her unleashed waves: Nerys wasn’t just destined to be Thalassaria’s queen.

She already was.