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I t was her mother’s birthday. Jade sat in the bedroom she’d been assigned in the palace at Usquerbis, ignoring the selection of gowns that a servant had left for her to decide between.

That maid, a silent mer of middling years who wouldn’t even respond to a hello, was the only person she’d seen in three days, since they’d first arrived in what on land they called Far City.

It was her mother’s birthday, a day that was supposed to be filled with celebration, with family, with friends, and Jade felt more alone than she ever had in her life.

She sat cross-legged on the bed, ignoring the data crystals on her desk as completely as she did the gowns.

She didn’t want to see the dresses that Finn had provided, one of which she would have to don soon when he presented her to his court—a thought that twisted her stomach.

She didn’t want to study more of the Writ and prophecies that Librus was so convinced spoke of her —a thought that made her feel like an imposter.

She instead closed her eyes and sent her mind back through the years, to other celebrations of Mama’s life.

They’d always deemed their birthdays “family holidays,” which meant no one went to work or school, no matter the season.

They’d do something as a family during the day and then have a big party in the evening.

A year ago, they’d taken Papa’s racing skiff out and had soared across the water for hours.

They’d shared a picnic lunch, and Mama had regaled them with stories about her childhood.

Papa had told about the first time they met, when Jade’s father was still alive…

and then about how he’d known he was falling in love with Mama, years later, after they’d each lost their first spouse.

She and Arden had piped in with memories of how they’d terrorized their parents when they were little, how Mama and Papa had joked that it had clearly been a mistake to put the two of them together.

When alone, they were quiet little girls.

Together, they became a cyclone of giggles and shrieks and fighting and playing.

It killed her, not being there today. Worse, not knowing if they were celebrating. Not knowing if Arden was still there to celebrate, or if she’d been hurt or even killed by the hawk a month ago. Knowing that her mother would cry because Jade wasn’t home.

It wasn’t just an ache in her chest. It was a dagger, piercing her through. She’d promised her mother on that boat trip last year that no matter where she was—at university or on assignment here beneath the waves—that she would come home each year for Mama’s birthday. She’d promised .

Yet here she was, unable to keep her word.

She’d asked Librus two weeks ago if their spy network could get word on whether her sister was well…but he’d said they had no way of communicating with anyone on land once the wall went up.

He’d seemed to be speaking the truth. And he’d smiled in that warm way he had and said it was to her credit that she was so faithful to her sister, her family.

He’d promised that when the war was over, they’d be reunited.

That they’d bring her family to her island, or to wherever she was reigning as queen.

Reigning as queen . Her gaze flicked to those gowns hanging on a rolling rack inside the door.

Had that rack been in her room at home, had they been dresses she got to choose between for some event at the Tidal Palace, she’d have been oohing and ahhing over them, trying them on, picking which she liked best. Even from here, she could see that they were all gorgeous, richly detailed, in styles that would show off her figure.

And now that her eyes had adjusted to the light, she could see their shades clearly.

The thought of donning one of them and facing the mer people by Finn’s side, though…

Her door flew open and, as if summoned by her thoughts, Finn strode in, his gaze scanning the room and snagging on her.

She scrambled to her feet, not letting herself squeak a protest that he didn’t even bother to knock. Given that the dresses had just been delivered five minutes ago with a note ordering her to try them on, he could have easily interrupted that.

The smirk he gave her said he knew it. Had hoped for it. Was a little angry that it hadn’t worked out that way.

Jade had to fight back the urge to lift her chin in defiance. It wouldn’t get her anywhere with a man like him. This was only the fifth time she’d been in his presence, but she’d figured that much out by visit number two.

So far, she’d found only one soft spot in the prince. She used it now, stepping forward a few inches. “Has there been any word on your siblings?”

And there, the smirk fell from his face and the hard mask morphed into something that showed genuine feeling—even if it was pain. At least it was real. “No. Nothing. None of them have responded to any of the messages we’ve tried to sneak in. I fear Mariana has imprisoned them. Or…worse.”

She winced on behalf of the Sael prince and princesses. “Surely your mother won’t let Mariana harm them.”

Finn’s breath of laughter held no mirth.

He turned to the rack of dresses. “Our mother has always made it quite clear that only the strongest of us would have any real role in this kingdom. That the weak would rely on the mercy of her heir—and her heir has never had any inclination toward mercy.” He pulled one of the gowns from its hanger. “Put this on.”

He tossed it at her, so she caught it. But she ignored the command, knowing her troubled emotions showed on her face.

And since it was on behalf of the few people in the world he loved, she let him see it.

“Why, then, didn’t they come with us to begin with?

” She’d wanted to ask ever since they moved to Usquerbis ten days ago, but she’d scarcely seen anyone since then that she could ask.

Librus had come for two lessons since their arrival, but he’d been so distracted and hurried, she hadn’t had the chance to pry.

Finn’s hands curled into fists. “Since their return from Daryatla, they haven’t been permitted out of the palace at Margarita Civitas. They had no opportunity to meet up with us when I asked them to.”

Margarita Civitas was the Sunken City that Ralia had always held as her capital.

While Demergi Urbes was the city closest to Daryatla, Margarita Civitas was about halfway between it and their current location in the farthest-flung city of the mer.

Their contingent had avoided it during the move, since it was where Mariana’s forces were congregated.

But they’d paused for a while near there, close enough that she’d been nervous the entire time, certain the regular mer army would find them and kill them all.

She’d thought at first it had been to give the Black Tails time to rest at the waystation, but now she realized it was likely to give the other Sael siblings a chance to rendezvous with them.

Her chest constricted, and she clutched the silk he’d thrown to her against the ache. “I’m so sorry.” It came out as a bare whisper. “I pray the Triada spares them. I worry for my sister, and she is not being held by someone who has sworn death to her. I can only imagine how you feel now.”

She saw the words’ effect on him, saw it in the flaring of his nostrils and the slight change in the angle of his shoulders. She saw the steel inside him soften a bit.

But he must have noticed it too and rejected it. A breath later, he’d squared his shoulders again and pointed at the gown. “Now, my lady. I have only a few minutes to spare before my generals return, and I need to be there to hear their brief.”

She didn’t know where the generals had even gone—no one kept her informed of anything—but she’d certainly noticed Electra’s absence. Despite the loneliness, her life was more peaceful when the mermaid wasn’t here, snapping and snarling at her and proclaiming that she was a lost cause.

The flash in Finn’s eyes said if she argued, she’d regret it. So she hurried toward the entrance to the bathing chamber, sliding the door closed against his “You don’t need to hide away to change.”

The mer had different ideas about modesty, she’d already learned.

Especially when in the water, they tended to wear little.

Men went about shirtless, women wore tops cropped high enough and dipping low enough that Jade’s face had burned in embarrassment for them for the first two weeks, before she’d begun to grow accustomed to all the skin on display.

But hers would not be, thank you very much. And when Electra had tried to convince her to “relax, sander,” Jade had retorted that she was a “creature of the skies,” as Librus had called her, and in the skies, they liked to be covered .

Electra hadn’t looked convinced. But she’d laughed, anyway, and given up the argument.

Wishing the door had a lock, Jade changed as quickly as she could, not trusting the prince to stay put. She dared only a single glance in the mirror before returning to the bedroom, but it was enough to tell her that the turquoise dress was every bit as beautiful as she’d thought from a distance.

Yet when she emerged, Finn immediately frowned. “No. Not that one. Try one of the green ones, to match your eyes.” He turned to the rack and tugged two of the green options outward.

Jade looked at them too. “The left?”

Probably to spite her, he took down the one on the right—far lower cut, hence her choice for the other—and held it out.

She pressed her lips against an argument and then forced them up in a smile. “All right.” Getting just close enough to him to take the layers of chiffon from his fingers, she hurried back to the bathroom. Again made quick work of changing. And grimaced only a little when she looked in the mirror.