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“I’m the king . ” He huffed a sigh and jabbed his fingers through his still-damp golden-brown hair. “They’re my responsibility. Those people—ten dead, hundreds of homes destroyed. I failed them. They’re right to decry me, to—”

“Wait, what?” She moved back to his side so she could grip his arm. “Who’s decrying you?”

Rather than meet her gaze, he turned his face toward the window. “They’re grief-stricken. Destitute. I can’t blame them for resenting me. What good is the aid I sent? Maybe it can repair their homes, but it can’t return their lost loved ones to them.”

“Seidon.” Her heart ached so much these days, she wasn’t sure anymore where one cause stopped and the next picked up. Wasn’t even sure, half the time, if it was her own pain she felt or his, or Storm’s, or Papa’s, or Mama’s.

Wasn’t sure if it was to give comfort or receive it when she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. Both, probably.

His arms came around her too, and his breath whooshed out.

She still wasn’t sure when, exactly, this had become normal.

How feeling his head rest against hers had become a comforting routine.

She’d learned in that first day of knowing him that he was one who touched, who took her hand, who clasped her arm, who drew her into a quick embrace.

But she never would have dreamed that hugging the king would become a daily occurrence.

One she didn’t even think about anymore.

She could feel the tremor work through him. “Sometimes,” he murmured into her hair, “I think the Triada has it wrong. I’m not the man for this job. I can’t even—”

“Stop.” She squeezed him tighter. “You are the strongest king Daryatla has ever known. But you’re still a man, Si. You’re not the Triada. You’re not omnipotent.”

“Oh, I’ve gotten plenty of reminders of that lately.

” He stroked a hand down her back but then pulled away, returning to the now-empty corner.

He tossed the map into the air again, but changed the scale and focus so that it displayed the Banks and, beyond them, the wall.

“But there has to be a way. The Triada doesn’t will this genocide, I know he doesn’t.

If I can find a way through…maybe today is the day. ”

She groaned and trudged after him. “No. You are not going out there again this afternoon. You’ll show up an absolute bear to Mama’s birthday party, and I’ll have to pelt you with ice cubes all evening again to remind you that you know how to smile.”

He reached out, gripped her shoulder, and gave her a playful shove away. “I will not.”

“You will! Because you think you’re the only man in the world capable of fighting this, even though it’s not your war.”

“It’s affecting us. I have family there. And I am bound by treaty to the House of Sael.”

A treaty he didn’t intend to honor, she knew—not now that Mariana had declared her intentions. There were apparently lines in the agreement that voided it if one side or another engaged in violence of this level, and Mariana’s flimsy excuses wouldn’t be enough to counteract her intended actions.

And Arden understood his position, his pain, his frustrations. Even so, she sent him a narrowed-eyed glare. “You will not ruin Mama’s birthday. Do you hear me? We are celebrating because it’s a miracle she’s still with us, and because we need to cling to hope.”

He held his hands up in surrender without taking his eyes off the map. “I will be cheerful and charming, I promise. Or you can pelt me with ice, and I won’t deflect it. You can tickle me into submission. I’ll even let you beat me in a footrace again.”

“Ha! You did not let me beat you last week. You’re just old and slow.”

The taunt, as she’d hoped it would, at least got a flash of a grin out of him.

Of course, it also earned a lunge that she knew well would end in a finger in her rib—her one ticklish spot.

She dodged, laughed, batted his hand away, and prayed he’d cling to this instead of the other.

The light instead of the dark always looming on the horizon.

She knew better. All too soon he’d given up the chase and turned to the map again. “Maybe…maybe the hawks could still help. I know I’m too heavy to ride them, but do you think they could lift me somehow? Several of them together? We could rig a harness.”

“No.” She said it every bit as forcefully as he had to her minutes ago. “You can’t let them drop you on the other side of the wall, Seidon.”

“Once I’m over there, I could—”

“No! Think it through. Once you’re over there, you’re cut off from here.

All the empire, all the territory you’ve worked for centuries to reach and bring safety to—gone from your reach.

You’ll be able to sense nothing but the open waters, and then what?

You’ll sacrifice your own people’s safety to try to help the mer?

Even though you don’t know how to fight this magic? ”

It was a low blow—one she wished she could unspeak even as the words landed. He winced, clenched his jaw again. She expected him to turn away, but instead, he fisted his hands.

“Says the girl ready to sacrifice herself to see Jade one more time, even though it would mean being executed for espionage.”

A shiver coursed through her. She’d made it a point not to think what the mer—either side of the mer—would do if they caught her.

But she’d known, of course. She’d always known.

Still. She forced a swallow past her throat. “Not the same thing. You get caught on the wrong side of the wall, and all of Daryatla pays the price. I get caught, and there are all of four people who would care.”

“You get caught, and I’ll tear the whole ocean apart to find you again.” He spat out the words, turning to face her, then softened when he saw whatever expression had stolen over her face. “I can’t lose you. I don’t even like you going as far as that first island. If there were any other way…”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that Kiyana thought some crystals had made it over, but she bit it back. She’d tell him—but not in this particular moment. “But Jade—”

“I don’t care.” He winced even as he said it, even as his fingers tangled with hers again.

“Look, I know she’s your sister. You love her.

She could well have magic that’s the key to everything—I get all that.

But I don’t know her. You, however, have become in the last month one of the best friends I’ve had in my entire life, and I will not lose you to this Triada-forsaken civil war. ”

Her throat was still far too tight. Tighter with his words.

Because she still didn’t know how they could be true.

How had Papa’s sending her here to report Jade’s kidnapping turned into such a quick, deep friendship?

It made perfect sense that he would become her friend so quickly—wasn’t as though she had all that many others vying for the position, especially with Jade missing.

But for her to be his? That was still beyond her comprehension.

She had no choice but to shake her head.

“The minute you meet her, you’ll understand.

There’s a reason they stole her, Si. She’s…

she’s everything. And if she really does have whatever magic they need, then it will help you, help us.

We need her—you need her. And the moment you meet her, she will be your new best friend, your new right hand. ”

More than that, maybe. It was one subject they’d never talked about, but he was too smart not to have thought it.

Too smart not to realize that if Jade was as powerful as the mer thought, she could well be the one woman in the world capable of matching him.

The bride he’d been waiting for. Much as Arden wanted to deny it for Storm’s sake, she couldn’t keep from wondering what would happen when Jade and Seidon met.

His fingers went tight around hers. “Perhaps.” Funny—he didn’t sound like he was actually granting her point. He sounded like he was repressing something he really wanted to say but wouldn’t let himself. “Even so. You will not go to the Sunken Cities until I can go with you.”

What wasn’t he saying? She wanted to know but knew he wouldn’t tell her.

Not right now. Later, though, when the frustration that held him captive had eased, when his mood was sweetened by cake and laughter, she’d wheedle it out of him.

On the way back to the palace tonight, or in the morning.

“Fine. But you will not go until you find a way to open the wall. You can’t be cut off from Daryatla. ”

He huffed out a sigh. “How do you mean to enforce this proclamation of yours?”

She lifted her chin. “Who does this fleet of hawks answer to, again? Is it you, Your Majesty? Or is it the Wind Chaser?”

“Rider.” Finally, finally his eyes sparkled again. “You’re not getting a promotion with an attitude like that.”

“Regardless. You will not be talking the hawks into lifting you over that wall. Not on my watch.”

“Fine.” His tone sounded even enough again that she knew she’d won, at least for now.

Because he knew she was right. He couldn’t abandon his people for a war that wasn’t his own, no matter how much he wished he could do both.

But she ought to have known he wouldn’t capitulate.

He let go of her hand, turned to her, and had her face between his palms in the next moment, holding her immobile with more than the simple touch.

Her mouth went dry, air froze in her lungs. She’d gotten accustomed to the embraces, yes, to the hand-holding, to the casual touches. Because they were casual. Not so different from the playful punches and shoves and one-armed embraces he gave Papa and Enoch and even Storm.