Page 20 of A Sea of Vows and Silence (The Naiads of Juile #3)
Selena
“ A nything new?” Thaan asked. His arctic gaze hovered over the documents strewn across his desk, most of them branded by the blue wax remnants of King Emilius’s seal.
A single red blot stuck partway out from under the haphazard stack.
The crest of Oberon in Rivea. My eyes locked onto the emissary’s letter as Thaan shuffled it away.
“I think he’s beginning to enjoy my company,” Cebrinne said.
Thaan scoffed under his breath. “Has he mentioned negotiating for a cordae with your colony?”
Less certain of traditional Naiad cordae rituals and norms, her eyes slid to mine for a proper answer.
“He’s hinted at it,” I quickly supplied.
Thaan stood, shuffling his stack into a neat pile and handing it to me.
He tossed a small leather pouch onto the wooden surface.
“Good. One more trip and hopefully he’ll concede.
Take these missives to the secretaries.” He hadn’t glanced at us once, and he turned away, looking over his shelves at the spines of books that covered his wall.
“If you get the chance to cordae , take it. If he enjoys the chase, let him chase you. If he’s attracted to innocence, feign vulnerability.
Talk to him late into the night, flirt with his siren guards, get him drunk on Naiad wine, I don’t care.
Take your notebook with you, Cebrinne, and the drops.
” He motioned to the leather pouch behind him.
“I don’t enjoy draining my blood for you. Get it done.”
Jaw hard, Cebrinne snatched the pouch and notebook, stalking from the office. A hooded Pheolix followed her out, and I moved to leave as well .
“Oh,” Thaan said quietly. Already half-turned away, I rotated back to face him.
“The Queen’s Starlit Bloom Masquerade is in thirteen days.
This assignment of yours and Cebrinne’s is vital, but if you happen to find an opportunity to return for it, your presence wouldn’t go unnoticed.
King Emilius has asked me if you intend to be there. ”
I’d placed an order for our masquerade dresses months ago, but I’d forgotten it in recent weeks. I offered him a slow, single nod, a hard stitch needling between my shoulder blades.
Thaan had sent me to seduce the King before.
Not to sleep with him. To flirt. Bat my eyes over a long-stemmed glass or stare darkly at him from across the ballroom before traipsing up the stairway to his quarters, knowing he’d follow.
Once I was in his rooms, I’d sing him to sleep and find a document, artifact, book, map—things the King didn’t easily share with Thaan.
If the Queen had ever noticed my advances, she didn’t seem to mind.
Emilius seemed brute enough that she probably relished the break from him.
Wondering what Thaan might want from his rooms this time, I made towards the door a second time.
“One last thing, Selena,” Thaan said, softer now.
I turned on my heel to face him a third time.
Hands behind his back, he pivoted as well, aiming his side at me and looking me over with precision, a furrowed shadow forming between his brows. “I’ve lost track of a Naiad. I’m wondering if you’ve seen him?”
“Oh?” My fingers curled around the edges of the paper stack. “I’m not sure that I have. I’ve hardly been in the palace this last month. Who is he?”
He shrugged, though the edge in his eyes pierced me, and the motion was anything but casual. “No one. A throw-away intelligence gatherer.”
My body weight shifted for a slow retreat, but I rooted myself to the floor. “Well, what did he look like?”
“It doesn’t matter, Selena. He probably abandoned his post to run.
Sidra will find him and dispose of him.” He leaned over his desk.
“I just wanted to ensure you were aware. It distresses me that a Naiad has suddenly gone missing. That one of my own might betray me.” He held my gaze with all the flexibility of forged steel.
I squeezed the papers against my chest, my airways a bit tighter.
“I will keep my ears open,” I said slowly. “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
He waited a beat more, then nodded at the door.
Years ago, my heart would have pounded under the sharp glint of his eyes, but I’d lied too many times in my life for its hammer to give me away now. He might make my blood run cold, but if nothing else, I’d always be able to lift my chin in the air and pretend not to notice.
Near the front of the administrative office, I stopped at Vouri’s desk.
The Venusian's chestnut hair was tied in a very human knot, the shaved side of her head hidden, secretary dress pressed to perfection. Her scrawl somehow bumpy and jarring, she sat creating copies of a decree by hand, though she must have seen me approach from the corner of her eye. She stretched a hand toward me without pausing her recording, ready to take Thaan’s letters.
“There’s one from the north in here,” I said carefully, passing them to her.
Vouri nodded, her mouth shaping silent words as she wrote.
She tucked them into the corner of her desk and continued.
Ceba had stalked ahead, most likely to our apartment to begin writing her faux notes into the book Thaan had charged her with.
I considered taking the sky bridge south to join her, but my stomach quietly rumbled. Kitchens first.
Deimos’s eyes tracked me as I left. They lingered over the back of my head, heavy and silent, even as I crossed through the glass panel wall and toward the tower steps.
Gossip trickled through the palace Naiads in waves that Deimos couldn’t speak.
That he’d been born mute or that Thaan had cut out his tongue.
That he’d suffered from infection or scarring of the throat.
One story rumored Thaan had controlled his body long enough to send him into a stroke, paralyzing his vocal cords.
I didn’t believe any of them, though I mused that perhaps Deimos had vowed only to speak aloud to Thaan.
Of all Thaan’s Naiads, Deimos was the only one whose loyalty I couldn’t quite grasp.
There was a stillness about him. Something measured and deliberate.
His presence had a way of seeping into the edges of my awareness before I even noticed him.
His eyes never seemed to blink. They watched a room with a quiet hunger that I could never decide was predator or prey.
Something in his movements always felt coiled and low.
The air stirred around him, not in threat.
In a patient wait that set every nerve on edge.
Dusk charged across the sky, sending pools of peach and pink to stretch through the clouds.
Calder was growing warmer, crossing the boundaries of early spring and delving into the scent of apple blossoms and refreshing showers.
The world had peeked its head above ground after the slow toll of winter, shaking the dust from its legs and sprouting lush clove beds across the yards.
I’d missed it and hadn’t realized. I loved this time of year, when birds returned from their southern flights and newborn calves followed their mothers in the distant fields.
I’d been busy and away, under the sea or landed on overcast beaches.
Spring was marching forward without a passing glance at me.
The kitchens sat at the underground level of King’s Tower, craftily hidden below the throne room.
A sprinkle of rain pattered away outside, but I shrugged off my shawl, letting the sky kiss and drizzle down my shoulders as I crossed the grounds, my musings of what the menu offered this evening overshadowed with the warning in Thaan’s eyes.
That one of my own might betray me.
Thaan was paranoid by nature. Cautious. Watchful. Vigilant. So ready to catch someone in perceived deception, he verged on jealousy. I had no reason to actually believe—
Hands grabbed me from behind.
An elbow curved around my arms and waist; a palm stifling the shriek that erupted from my throat.