Page 33 of A Sea of Vows and Silence (The Naiads of Juile #3)

Unbearable, unbearable, unbearable. I needed to just ignore him.

I couldn’t afford to lose my focus, anyway.

I had two days to prepare for the Queen’s Starlit Bloom, and I had nothing decided.

I’d already commissioned our dresses, but Thaan had mentioned the King, which probably meant I needed to wear something extravagant.

I suspected I’d be either a distraction or a lure.

Either way, I needed to attract his attention and hold it.

Do whatever Thaan wanted me to so I could refocus.

“What happens when Sidra comes to the surface?” Pheolix asked, striking through my thoughts. We’d almost reached the ivy-laced wrought iron doors, the guards well within hearing distance.

“I don’t know. Her lungs burn up and she dies or something. ”

“Ah.” He waited before continuing, nodding at the guards as we passed. “They’ll just let anyone through to the towers?”

“We’re inside the grounds, and they know my face. They don’t need to check us unless we’re acting suspicious.”

“So, anyone could just row up to the cliffs—”

“Pheolix, we have other things to worry about besides palace security.” I twisted my hair into a rope.

The entire swim back, I’d tried to come up with a reason to give Thaan why Cebrinne and Aegir hadn’t yet cordaed .

Thaan had an intention behind their match.

He wanted to take Aegir’s colony, but where would that leave Cebrinne if they mated?

Where would she weigh on the scale of collateral damage?

Would he leave her cordae -less and heartbroken, or would he kill her, too?

I wouldn’t find any answers without Thaan believing they’d cordaed . That’s the step he was waiting for. That’s what would initiate a letter to Oberon in the Rivean Emissary. The switch that would play Thaan into our hand.

“What happens when Thaan goes below?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, my train of thought obstructed by the question. “What?”

“You said Sidra can’t come above the water. What happens when Thaan goes below?”

I paused. Exhaled and frowned at the floor. My hand dropped from my face, and I glanced at him. He waited, his chin lowered as he watched me through his black hood, his mouth still parted on the last word he’d spoken.

“What?”

“I said, what happens—”

“I heard what you said,” I breathed. “I don’t know.

I don’t know what happens. I don’t know.

” I turned to pace back a few steps then turned again.

“I’ve never seen him enter the sea. He can barely even come close to it.

The night he took Paria, he coughed from simply breathing the mist in the air from the sea spray. ”

Pheolix leaned an elbow on an iron crenellation, watching me rove. “Well. It would be easy to conduct an experiment.”

I halted to look at him.

“You know.” He flicked his wrist innocently, the wind lifting the ends of his rusty hair. “Spill salt water on him and see what happens.”

I was already shaking my head, deep in thought. “Won’t work. Theia’s curse prevents him from entering the sea. I’ve seen him eat plenty of salt. I’ve seen him reach into fishermen’s buckets. Theia doesn’t care if he touches seawater. She ensured he couldn’t cross paths with Sidra.”

Pheolix’s knife withdrew from his pocket. He played with it absently, flipping it toward his wrist and back through his fingers. “Sounds like you just need to lure him to water.”

I tapped my lower lip with my finger, eyes cast out over the Juile Sea. “I need to figure out what Thaan needs from me during the masquerade. And I need to talk to Vouri.”

Deimos opened Thaan’s door at my knock. He stood back, expressionless, studying me. The pale scar across his cheek seemed paler than the last time I’d seen him, and shadows hung under his eyes like dark half-moons.

Pheolix followed me in without a word. All of our previous meetings had been in the palace offices, and I wondered if he’d ever been in Thaan’s private quarters before. If it was his first time, he didn’t act as though it were unfamiliar .

Thaan sat at his small desk. He flicked his fountain pen away as I darkened his door, leaning back in his chair and pressing his fingertips together.

His faux spectacles sat folded in the corner, but whatever task he’d accomplished in the offices earlier, he hadn’t shifted back to his tall and menacing form. He was Cain.

The thought seemed to occur to him as well. His limbs lengthened, jaw sharpened, muscles broadening and strengthening. The only things that didn’t change were his ice-blue eyes. “You’re here a day early.”

“Cebrinne will arrive tomorrow,” I said, sensing Pheolix slide behind me to lean against the wall. “I wanted details on my assignment.”

“Has she cordaed ?”

Anger simmered to life, tightening my chest. “Between the three of us, we’ve gathered considerable information about Aegir and his colony. He trusts us. We could lead him here without binding Ceba to him for life.”

“So, she has not.” His eyes flashed.

I exhaled, the muscles in my neck flexing. “She’s close.”

Thaan stood, folding his hands behind his back.

He glanced at Pheolix before gazing at the shelves of books that canvased his wall.

“I knew Aegir would show more interest in her than you. Cebrinne’s talents as a Naiad were never as…

delayed as yours are. But I’d thought you’d guide her.

You know how to work a man.” He looked at me from over his shoulder, waiting for my response.

Heat slithered along the back of my neck. The soft click of fingers playing with a blade met my ears, and I resisted the urge to steal a glance at the hooded Naiad behind me.

“What do you want from Emilius?”

“The Queen refuses to speak to him. Theia knows why. I imagine between the parade of women in his bed and the liquor swimming in his veins at all hours, she has her reasons. They’ve been communicating through written notes passed back and forth by their servants at mealtimes.

” He reached through his shelf for a letter written in a feminine scrawl, dropping it on his desk.

My mouth suddenly tasted sour. “What do you need from me?”

“In short, I need to know if the Queen has drained herself of usefulness. If their marriage is purely exposition, if she’s lost all influence over him, then it might be time to consider other options.

According to the counsel, she visited his chamber only twice last year, which puts into question the legitimacy of her children.

And there’s something off with her firstborn. He smells too strongly of salt.”

“Maybe he’s Naiad,” I mused, though I knew that wasn’t the case. Naiads don’t smell of salt unless they’ve just swum in the sea. It was more likely a hidden affliction. I made a mental note to research it later. “Why haven’t you just incanted the King to ask if he hates his wife?”

Thaan grimaced, gazing down at the Queen’s handwriting as though it had insulted him.

“I could. I’d rather not. I’ve overstretched my hand lately.

Emilius grows suspicious and distant each time he loses his memories, as most humans do.

But he’s deep in his cups these days. Wine will make anyone paranoid, and I’m trying to incite tension from Rivea.

If I have to choose incantment over the status of a royal marriage or incantment to aid in a war, I’d rather the latter. ”

My darling husband, light of my life and soul, the letter began. If the Queen refused to speak to Emilius, I wondered if the words were a mockery. “You want me to locate the rest of her letters in his rooms?”

Thaan smiled, though the act was more of a tightening around the corners of his mouth and eyes. “Yes. Without incanting him. If you must incant him, ensure he’s fully drunk first, so he believes the alcohol is to blame when he wakes.”

“Even if that makes him more paranoid?”

Thaan gave a stern nod. “It’s the lesser of two evils. Obviously don’t cordae with him. Not until we know the Queen is ineffective.”

I raised my head at that. The sour taste in my mouth turned fetid. “Is that all?”

“For now.” He turned back to his shelves. “If you see your sister before tomorrow evening, tell her I’m waiting for her report. You may go.”