Page 8 of Coral Prince Conundrum (Runaway Prince Hotel #1)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Seero

My dreams take me back in time to years ago.

I once walked along a shore with Father, far away from the Coral Kingdom.

We were somewhere in North America, and fortunately, no surface-dwellers were around.

As we stepped on sand and pebbles, we stopped near what he called a waste site.

A large metal tunnel jutted out from the rocky wall, and paper and plastics were strewn about the ground.

It was litter. All of it was land-dweller garbage, left to be absorbed by the tide.

“Do you see, my son?” Father picked up a metal can and handed it to me. “Do you understand why we need the Corali Court to rule in our favor? We need to protect the ocean from the plundering and destruction of all other countries.”

I looked out at the water and frowned. My heart ached watching the waves swallow little pieces of trash that would surely harm some poor creature swimming out there.

“Then why can’t you do it?” I asked in my timid, teenage voice.

Father sighed. “The court has been undergoing a lot of legislative changes. They want the vote of an acting prince and a king. I don’t want to rush you out of your childhood, but the sooner you gain power, the better the world will be.”

He bent down and picked up a thin, plastic object that resembled six combined rings.

“Once you turn twenty-five and complete your great global survey, you’ll be recognized as the acting Coral Prince.

Until then, we will hone your skills and have you research using the internet that the surface world is so fond of. ”

I solemnly nodded and followed Father down the beach.

His words sank into my very soul. I was to turn twenty-five in a few short years.

The last part of my memory is seeing multiple metal cans strewn across the beach.

Each one read the same words: “Tishman’s Fishery.

” I abhorred violence, but I knew in that moment that surface-dwellers were truly a bane on our precious oceans.

I wake from the dream in a coughing fit. The water around me is only neck high. I feel fabric clinging to my chest, but I never wear a shirt when I sleep underwater. Then I recall that I don’t have the luxury of sleeping in the submerged castle, because I live in the Renversé Hotel.

But I’m not in the hotel bed. My muscles are aching, and I stretch out in a large tub. Where am I?

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

I look up to see Layla Fisher walking through the door. She places a metal chair next to me, and I cough and gaze at the room. After wiping my eyes, it does appear that I am in one of the hotel bathrooms.

“You gave us quite the scare.”

My throat feels incredibly dry. “What happened?” I croak.

“You were covered in brake fluid. It burned your skin and messed with your Corali anatomy,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone. “A salt water bath is the closest thing to the ocean we had to expedite the Corali healing process.”

“Brake fluid?” I look at my hands and notice remnants of a dark, sticky substance washing off.

“Fortunately, Daryl found you and brought you here to safety. He nursed you back to health. Spent his whole evening here.”

Blurry memories of Daryl holding me surface in my mind, but I still can’t quite see it all. “Daryl…saved me?”

“He sure did. For the past five hours, he’s stayed here, adding more salt and generally watching to make sure you weren’t getting worse.

I just now sent him to get something to eat.

You kind of owe him your life,” Layla replies.

She leans forward and gently touches the top of my head.

“We were so scared that we were going to lose you.”

I lean into the touch. Her kind words mean so much to me.

Then I feel her slap the back of my head. “Ow!”

“That was for acting like a tool,” she reprimands. “How could you do that to Daryl’s car?”

I rub my head and frown. Now I remember—for two days I’d been looking up how to dismantle a food truck, and today I executed my plan. Everything went fine until the oily fluid sprayed me.

My whole body feels sore, and I have very little memory of ending up here in this tub. With the way Layla is glowering at me, I can tell she knows I messed up.

I wince. “I am sorry.”

“Hey, don’t apologize to me. You didn’t touch my car.” She stands up and opens the door. “I’m giving you five minutes, then I’m driving you boys out to the beach.”

My heart lifts with hope—a dip in the ocean sounds glorious right now, and Layla driving me the one mile would be most helpful.

Before I can thank her, she disappears, and in her place is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Daryl stands before me in a blue button-down shirt. He’s holding food in plastic containers, and his face reads of satisfactory relief.

“Oh, thank all the gods, Seero, you’re alive.”

I smile. His concern for me brings joy to my soul, especially considering how awful I was to him when last we spoke. “Yes, I am. And I hear it’s thanks to you.”

He kneels by the tub, inches away from my body. If only I had him in a bath in a much sexier manner, but this is no time to think of my libido. “I got you food and drinking water.”

He hands me the bottle, and I drink as much as I can in one gulp. All of this oil has rendered me dehydrated. “I was so worried about you,” he says in a low tone.

“Well, you saved me. So, thank you.” I sheepishly look down at the tub. “Did you…um, are you able to drive?”

He snickers and hands me the plastic triangle containing food. “I called a tow truck. My dad paid for it. If it’s not worth the repairs to the undercarriage, he’ll probably have the old thing converted into scrap. The insurance should believe that some unknown troublemaker messed with my ride.”

As I bite into the sandwich, I freeze in fear. Daryl smiles and says, “Don’t worry, no one knows of your part in it other than Layla.”

I swallow and nod. “Thank you.”

I eat in silence for two minutes longer while trying to ignore Daryl’s soulful brown eyes. “Now, here’s the hard part.” He stands and crosses his arms. With a smirk he asks, “Why’d you do it?”

I stand up and bite back the soreness in my body. “There is…much I have not told you. Pass me that towel, please?”

He turns to the rack, and I carefully peel off my wet shirt. “Well, you better start talk-ING!” he yelps. Daryl’s eyes are blown wide.

I look down—there’s nothing interesting here except my bare torso. I shrug and take the towel from him while he stares at the floor.

“I am afraid the more I tell you, Daryl, the more danger you will be in.” I towel off and wrap the white towel around my shoulders. “The last thing I want to do is allow you to get hurt.”

He scoffs. “And that little stunt with the brake fluid?”

I frown and step out of the tub. “I needed to destroy Tishman’s Fishery without hurting you.”

“News flash: that food truck doesn’t even sell my dad’s tuna anymore. You’re kind of barking up the wrong tree.”

I shake my head and dry off my pants. I am not sure why he is referring to barking and trees, but it must be an American saying. “I understand that now.”

He scrunches his eyebrows, crosses his arms again, and tilts his head. “What do you got against Tishman’s Fishery, anyway? I mean, besides the fact that we harvest a lot of fish.”

My back tenses up as I slowly wrap my shoulders in the towel. “It…is much more than that.”

“Please, enlighten me.”

I huff at his bitter tone. “Tishman’s Fishery plunders the seas at an alarming rate, far more than could ever be considered sustainable.

In your quest to massacre tons of schools of tuna, you capture and slay other species that you cannot sell, collateral damage in the name of capitalism.

That is nothing to say of the environmental waste byproducts.

” I take a seat on the tub. “I have done research and seen the actions of your ships with my very eyes, Daryl Tishman.”

After staring at the ground for several long moments, I sense him cross over to me.

He sits on the tub, and the urge to lean into him grows even more.

“You should know that…I hate my dad’s company too.

I am all too aware of the way his fishermen recklessly catch fish and damage the ocean.

I’ve been trying to enact policy change for years, but Dad won’t listen to me. ”

Guilt rises in my throat, and I look in his eyes. He almost seems contrite, even though I am the one who destroyed his vehicle. Daryl is patiently explaining himself. He isn’t even responsible for the company, and if I had not acted so quickly, I would have known that.

“It’s part of why I got into marine biology. I’m kind of the antithesis of my dad.” He laughs, ashamed. “I’m a disappointment to my family, and at the same time, you hate me because of my family. Can’t say I blame you.”

I glance at his dark eyes staring at the floor, and then I take in his coffee-colored complexion, smooth skin, and full lips. Something about him makes me act carelessly. Why can’t I make proper decisions with him, the way a king-in-training should?

“I don’t…hate you.”

He looks up in surprise. I continue, “The reason I’m so…serious about this all is because…well, I’m actually a?—”

“Alright, you two.” Layla barges into the room, and Daryl darts away from me. Her words have popped whatever bubble we had around us. “It’s dark out, and I’ve lost way too much time today bathing you. I’m running a business here, after all. Let’s get in my truck, both of you.”

“Do we need to go to the beach at this hour?” Daryl asks.

A slight panic creeps up my spine. I desperately need to continue talking to my friend, but the seawater calls to me.

“Yes. You want him to get better, right? He needs someone there to babysit him, and it ain’t gonna be me.

I got too many princes to meet with in the hotel.

So grab a towel, Daryl, and let’s get moving. ”

Her tone does not invite room for argument, and she disappears. I shrug and follow her. After shutting the room door, Daryl trails after us, holding another towel. “Hey, Seero,” he whispers.

“Hm?” I walk quickly since we’re both several yards behind Layla. The various guests pay us no mind as we stride down the corridors to the parking lot.

“What were you about to tell me? Something about you actually being…something?”

We stride down the stairs and continue walking, unable to get a moment to properly converse. “You’re not like a snake monster or demigod, are you?” Daryl laughs and huffs as we continue to almost run to keep up with Layla.

I chuckle once we reach the exit to the outside world. “No, I am none of those.” I hold open the door and look directly at this handsome man. “My name is Searoyal Dagat. I’m the heir to the throne of the Coral Kingdom, the Coral Prince.”