Page 40

LUKAS

“Y ou won’t let me save her?” I glared down at the bumbling man beside me. Sweat trickled down his face, beading onto the thick rims of his glasses. The sandstone room I’d crammed my advisors into may have been stiflingly hot, but it was obvious that the constant tugging of his collar was not from the evening sun outside.

“I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he stammered. “It’s just that we’ve been away from Drothmore for quite some time now, and recently you have been giving a lot of your attention to that fallen kingdom.”

“Corlixir,” I corrected, scowling. “That fallen kingdom is Corlixir, and its reconstruction is very important to both me and my wife,” I snarled.

“Yes, but,” he rummaged through some papers, pulling out a large sheet of figures, “if we assess the financials, Corlixir has been costing us dearly while we’re receiving little in return.” Nervous murmurs of agreement filled the small room. “Perhaps if you were to consider taking a new wife, someone born of more considerate wealth—”

If this man hadn’t been my lead advisor, I’d have launched his small body off the balcony.

“You need to stop right there, Sir James.” I jabbed a finger towards his puffy face. “Naria. Is. My. Wife .” I seethed. “And a few nights ago, I had to watch while she was ripped out of my arms. So if you’re trying to suggest that we do anything other than send our fastest rider home to Drothmore so that I may have an army by my side when I march into that damned faery kingdom and take her back myself, then I don’t want to hear it.”

My breath was ragged, and there were dark circles pooling beneath my eyes, but I cared little for how mad I probably seemed to the twelve clueless men blinking back at me. Changing out my stained tunic wouldn’t bring Naria back any faster. Neither would shaving the rough stubble from my jaw.

“Sire?” Sir James spoke gently. “Perhaps, if I may, we could consider holding another meeting tomorrow, once you’ve had some rest?” He wrung his hands together. “There are some… rumours bubbling around about you being unwell?”

I scoffed out a laugh.

“Maybe a good night’s sleep will help you?” he went on, voice weak. “After all, I’m sure the Queen of Ryntook would feel more comfortable continuing to host us all if—”

“Queen Cora is the only person willing to help me,” I cut him off.

“Yes, but the only entrance we know of to the faery kingdom is many, many miles from here.” He nudged his glasses up. “It would be unreasonable to ask the Ryntook royal family to provide you with an army of their own. Especially considering they barely have enough soldiers left to protect their own borders. As Queen Cora said, the oceans have been ravenous these past years.”

Or my aunt and the other merfolk freaks had, but I kept that thought to myself.

“So if I order a rider to be sent to Drothmore tonight,” I dug my palms into the table, “you will stop him from leaving the palace? Is that what I am hearing?”

“Sire…” Sir James winced.

“I asked you a question!” I boomed. “Will you ignore a direct order from your king?”

Across the room, a rickety chair scraped against the floor. “May I have a moment alone with the king?” a tired voice sighed.

My head whipped towards the speaker. Sir Ewan – my father’s, and now I supposed my, oldest and most trusted advisor leaned against the table to help him stand.

Not waiting for my response, the other men filed out of the room, exchanging mumbles and odd looks until the door clicked shut and Ewan and I were alone.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to hear?” I scowled. I didn’t have time for a lecture, and while this old man may have once been like a grandfather, right now, he was just another advisor-shaped obstacle.

Ewan frowned. “I’m going to tell you what you need to hear.”

I tsked.

“Forget the girl,” he said sternly. “She’s a distraction. You’ve not been yourself since the day your father brought her into the palace. And while we indulged your whims with her kingdom, now she’s run off, we won’t let you chase her.”

“She didn’t run off,” I snarled.

“We all saw her at the Oceans Ball,” he sighed. “She was all over that man, fae or not.”

“That wasn’t real. He tricked her.”

“And she told you that, did she?” He hobbled closer. “You’re not the first powerful man to be taken advantage of by a desperate woman. Pretty women tell pretty lies all the time, my boy. You already gave her a kingdom. What are you going to give her now? You want to lose yours too?”

When he clapped a hand against my shoulder, rage crackled like an incoming storm in my chest.

“Let her go, son.” He leaned closer. “It’s what your father would’ve wanted.”

Lightning struck the side of the palace, making the old man yelp.

“My father is the last person I aspire to be.” My voice was as fierce as the booming thunder outside. “And unless you want to lose your job, you’ll take your hand off my shoulder and not disrupt my meetings again. You’re dismissed, Sir Ewan.” I motioned with my chin towards the door.

Ewan’s lips parted before he drew his hand away, and nodded slowly. But before he left, he glanced once more at the now-clear sky outside, and then back to me, his eyes narrowing as if piecing something together.

“If you have more to say then speak, damn it,” I hissed at him.

The man studied me for a moment before huffing out a scratchy laugh. “Forgive me, Your Majesty .” He spoke with a glint in his eye. “But one wonders why you would need an army when it appears you already have everything you need to save her.” He glanced at the window again pointedly.

My breath stilled. Once again, something roared in my chest, my fingers crackling with the power I couldn’t stand.

“You know nothing,” I breathed.

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “But then again, it seems neither do you.”

The door clicked shut behind him before I could ask him what in the underrealm he meant.

Waves crashed against the c liffs beneath Naria’s balcony. Over and over again, it knocked against the stone like a visitor desperate to be let inside. I slammed my hands against my ears in an attempt to drown out the sound, but still, the ocean breeze brushed the hair from my face, filling my nose with its salty scent.

Groaning, my hands flopped down to her desk. I couldn’t sleep in that shell bed with sheets that smelt so strongly of her, but I couldn’t bear to leave this room to try and sleep in another. Here, if I closed my eyes and leaned back in her desk chair, I could almost feel her arms around my shoulders, hear her bustling behind me as she tinkered with her herbs and powders while I focused on my parchments.

The sound of crashing waves pulled me back to her empty bedchamber.

With a scowl, I opened my eyes to study the candlelit papers in front of me. Each one held the details of a different elaborate plan, and each one had been finished with an angry black scribble covering the entire page. If this room had a fireplace, it’d be roaring. Instead, piles of scrunched up papers grew around me. Though the paper walls did little to muffle the sound of the ocean outside.

The. Relentlessly. Calling. Ocean.

Growling, I shot up from the desk and used both hands to sweep it clear. Hundreds of papers fluttered in the breeze before covering the floor like seafoam. I trudged through it, kicking my way to the bed, only to wince at the sight of it empty.

My heart ached. “Where did he take you, forest princess? I rasped. “What does he want from you?” Then I turned to the arched doorway, to the endless line of blue on the horizon. “What do you want from me?” I yelled, as if it could answer back.

Outside, the waves kept rolling, and rolling, and rolling, and rolling.

I clamped my hands over my ears, chest seizing. “Stop it.” I charged over to the doorway. “Stop!” I yelled, just as I slipped on a stray parchment and stumbled forward. My hands slammed against the stone balcony railing.

Below, deep blue water swirled and churned as the night wind whipped up my hair. Sea spray hit my cheeks, cooling the rage in my throat. And as I took a ragged breath, for once, I noticed how soothing the ocean air felt in my lungs.

“Damn you,” I breathed, scowling at the choppy waves below. “I just want her back.” My heart thundered. “I don’t care how anymore.”

I’d give myself to the ocean a thousand times over if it meant I could hold her one last time.

So, after sucking in one more breath, I leaned forward off the balcony and plunged into the rising waves.

Cold water slammed into me, tearing all the air from my lungs. Panic gripped my chest. Darkness flooded my vision. Until, after a few frenzied heartbeats, the murky water began to clear, and I could make out rays of starlight hitting the rocks below.

Dipping into my tunic, I plucked out the shell necklace that I’d kept looped around my neck since Naria’s last visit to the sea. Then before I could change my mind, I blew into the thicker end. Hard.

Just as I began to wonder if I needed to be on land for the shell to work, a familiar voice had me whirling around.

“You look terrible, cousin.” Adriana kicked her long blue tail towards me. “And you smell like a steamed poerfish.” She wrinkled her nose.

Ignoring her, I dove forward to meet her. “Naria is gone.” I blurted. “Arenn took her.”

“What?” She gasped hard enough to shoot out a stream of bubbles. “What do you mean ‘took her’?”

“I can explain everything later. For now, I—” The words got stuck in my throat until I forced them out in a gravelly voice. “I need you to teach me how to use these powers I have.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You want me to teach you about your Gift?”

“Yes. It’s the only way I can save her.”

Adriana watched me, twisting her lips in thought. Just as I was about to remind her that Naria was currently miles away, possibly being tortured, or kissed, or maybe even an awful combination of both, she doubled over with violent laughter.

“What? What is it?” I snapped.

“You want me to teach you?” she cackled. “ Me ?” Her eyes went wide before she burst with more laughter.

“What? Is it gold you want?” I demanded. “I can pay!”

“Oh I’m sure you can, dear cousin.” She swiped away a tear. “But I’m afraid I cannot teach you.”

“Why ever not?”

“ I cannot teach you,” she said again, smiling. “But I do know someone who can.”

I folded my arms as her eyes glittered in the starlight. “Well, go on then,” I huffed. “Who?”

Her grin turned feral, the choppy ocean stilling around her. “My mother.”