Page 68 of Of Rime and Ruin (Sirens of Adria #2)

Chapter sixty-five

Nahla

Winona looks gaunt as she slumps in her chair at the head of the Brine table, her face pale like she’s seen a ghost. A stray piece of her hair falls across her forehead and she doesn’t smooth it away.

Her fingers are steepled, eyes weary, as she surveys the dining room, staring mostly at the space above my head.

She flicks her gaze around the table occasionally to disguise her glare—to our chattery mother, our frowning father, the old way-maker Keen, and Aethan next to me, then to my forehead.

My sister can’t look me in the eye. But she skips Ferrell entirely, her king husband, so that’s points in my favor. However minimal.

I’m bursting with questions, but I keep them locked tight behind my lips.

I’m sure my actions put her through the political wringer.

How long until she discovered I was missing?

What did she do when she found out? She hasn’t been sleeping, that much is obvious.

My stomach twists into a knot as the guilt settles in.

We’ve run out of things to say. Mother and Father rolled out their performative welcome party already, showering me with hugs and compliments and assuring their forgiveness of my big mistake .

Nobody mentions it specifically. Nobody tells me what came of the Coral Prince and his mother’s arrangement of matrimony.

It hangs above us like a cloud of whaleshit waiting to sink.

The only one who seems genuinely excited to see me is Keen.

He watches me from the far side of the table, wiggling his eyebrows and darting glances at the hulking Frost King sitting next to me.

About an hour ago, Keen saw Aethan’s Beast form, and the way-maker hasn’t stopped giving me googly eyes since.

“A beast-tamer,” he’d whispered when we surfaced. “That’s my girl.”

Aethan finds my hand beneath the table and gives it a cool squeeze. His palm is sweaty. Poor thing is probably melting in the heated dining room.

Keen clears his throat, dispelling the awkward silence. “So, Nahla. The Frost Kingdom. That’s a far cry from Coral, don’t you think?”

I rearrange my expression into blank politeness. “I’m sure Her Majesty already sent them my deepest regrets. How was the weather?”

Keen’s eyes twinkle. “Sunny and splendid, as you’d expect. A real treat for my withered bones.”

Winona bends her fork, curling it in half. The metal squeaks, then clatters to the table.

And here I thought this reunion would be pleasant. “What’s for dinner?” I ask, filling the silence before it can fall.

“Sunfish.”

A deep rumble fills the room. Aethan splays his hand flat on my thigh and tilts his head back, a glorious grin on his face. Laughing. The whole table slides their gazes to him.

“Excellent,” he says with a sparkle in his eye. “My favorite meal.”

A flurry of eels squirm in my stomach. Winona’s careful mask cracks, revealing a shred of surprise. “You’ve had it before?”

“I enjoy Sunfish thoroughly. When the occasion arises.” His hand slides higher on my thigh, pinky finger straying dangerously close to my center. I clench as arousal floods through me. Heat burns my cheeks and ears.

Oh gods. He didn’t just say that to Winona, fucking Queen of the Brine.

He’s trouble. A pure, untamed animal . His hand rotates, and that damn pinky slides right across the seam of my legs. I’ll get him back for this later as soon as that finger finishes…

“Am I missing something?” Winona asks.

I cross my legs, trapping his hand between my thighs. “Nope. Just a little joke between me and His Frostiness.”

Aethan wiggles his finger, unable to move it any closer. His disappointment brushes the fringes of my mind.

I shoot him daggers with my eyes. Later.

“I’d like to hear the punchline.” Keen raises an eyebrow, flicking a knowing look my way.

Fucking hell.

The servants pick that moment to enter the dining hall, carrying trays of roasted sunfish. Tension breaks as my family receives their plates, their attention at last diverted.

My meal sits on a bed of salted reedgrass, garnished with a lushfruit and chilibean sauce. The rich, familiar scent wafts and my eyes close briefly. My stomach rumbles. Before I can lift my fork and dig in, Winona opens her mouth.

“Isn’t that lovely.” She sniffs. “You’ve been off making jokes instead of doing your duty.”

What low chatter started around the table snuffs out.

I hear the pain in her voice, thick with betrayal.

Everything she did that bothered me was for the sake of her kingdom—the generosity, the carefully cultivated words, the tight protocols with no room for error.

I see that now. I understand it deeply, having watched the male I love sacrifice so much to protect his own people.

I was wrong about her. Maybe someday, I’ll tell her that.

I smile. “It’s good to see you, too, Winona.”

“You don’t know the hell I went through to cover up your mess. Imagine my embarrassment having to explain to the Coral Kingdom we lost his bride in transit.”

Ferrell fidgets with his collar. “Well, he was already married when we got there, though, Nahla. So it’s not a big deal, really.”

“What?” The breath sucks out of my lungs from the shock. A thousand questions bubble up behind my lips.

“Yes, it seems the invitation you received was already two moon-cycles too late. Lost in transit, if you will,” he says. He gives me a small smile. “The prince married an Abyssal, of all things.”

“ What ?” I repeat.

“Ferrell!” Winona hisses through her teeth, blushing dark red. Caught in her lie?

“Were you not going to tell her?” he asks.

The room narrows in an instant as I’m swallowed by the sudden emptiness in my gut. Sound distorts until all I can hear is a distant ringing. Like I’m watching myself from third-person as I sit in my chair, balling my hands into my skirt to feel something. Anything. I’m numb.

The answer is clear on my sister’s face: I wasn’t supposed to know the truth. She would have kept it from me until the day she dissolved. The whole reason for my rebellion was moot from the start.

I should never have summoned Ramona, should never have brought her here, and I already can’t wait for the moment she guides the city out of our waters.

I’m staying in the Rime, where I’m happy and loved .

Where I belong. I found love; Winona fucking settled.

She wouldn’t know love if it sat on her face.

Aethan finds my fist and unwinds it from the silk, lacing our fingers together. Holding his hand, I feel grounded. I was never lost. Not really. I was just finding my way to him.

What if my big mistake wasn’t a mistake, after all? What if running away is what I was meant to do?

Winona scrambles for control, turning to address Aethan instead.

“Your Majesty, I cannot express enough how grateful we are to you for harboring my lost sister these past several moons. We’re happy to take her off your hands, and deeply apologize for the…

” She flicks her gaze over me with unfiltered disappointment, trying to fix her expression and failing. “...inconvenience.”

It’s the lowest insult imaginable, coming from my sister.

To be inconvenient is to be unwanted. Problematic.

Like a blemish on her forehead before the big ball.

All she wants is convenience. Her marriage—convenient.

Her rise to the throne—convenient. I’m the piece that never quite fit into her elaborate puzzle, and she’s always resented me for it.

Sometimes I think she wishes she was an only child. It would have been better for her that way.

Aethan’s anger rolls through our mental connection, burning hot as the sun. He braces both hands on the table and stands. His knuckles pale from the strength of his grip. Veins rise from his forearms.

“Inconvenience?” he thunders.

Winona flinches—a minute twitch in her eye, imperceptible to an untrained observer—but I see it. She’s afraid of him.

“Nahla is a fucking delight to all who know her, and I will not have you soil her good name by suggesting otherwise.” Aethan’s voice rumbles across the room, and his face contorts with rage.

His fingers stain blue against the table, scales crawling up the backs of his hands.

“You will not take her off my hands, nor will you be taking her anywhere. I do not concede her, not now, not ever . You can’t separate a king from his queen. I’ll fucking drown you first.”

Silence falls.

Winona’s jaw drops in muted disbelief. Mother stares hungrily and licks her lips. Father looks like he’s swallowed a lushfruit whole. Ferrell picks at his napkin, ignoring the tension altogether.

When Keen meets my gaze, he grins from ear to ear, shoots me a thumbs up, and winks.

My heart pounds in my ears, heavy with hope. Never has anyone stood up for me like that. In one fell swoop, Aethan put Winona in her place.

Aethan. The grumpiest sourfish I know. Called me a fucking delight .

I grasp the hem of Aethan’s shirt, and he turns to look at me. His anger fades the moment our eyes meet, replaced with a warmth reserved only for me.

There’s one thing he said that I’m desperate to confirm.

“Your queen?” I whisper. “Is that what I am to you?”

He blinks, confused. Then realization dawns.

“Fuck. I was going to…” He rubs the base of his jaw. “I had a more romantic proposal in mind, I swear I did, Sunfish. I have the ring and everything.”

He grins, sheepish and devilishly handsome all at once, and my heart nearly bursts.

He drops to his knee, fishes around in the pouch on his hip, and holds out a glinting diamond ring.

“Nahlani Mahelona, Princess of the Brine and the sun of my heart, would you do me the immense pleasure of becoming mine?”

I launch out of my chair, throwing my arms around his neck. “I’m already yours,” I gasp. “Always and forever.” He catches me and hooks my legs around his hips as he stands again.

“Is that a yes?” he grunts.

I drink in the sight of him. The glint in his ice-blue eyes. The crooked slant to his smile. The sharp planes of his cheeks. That tiny dimple at the point of his chin. He’s glorious, and he’s all mine.

“Of course it’s a yes,” I say, and I kiss him hard on the mouth. He responds with a groan, and our lips slide together.

Somewhere behind us, Winona clears her throat. I wave my hand in her direction, dismissing her protests. I’m kissing my Frost King, and Winona can fucking wait.

“I thought you didn’t want a land-bound king,” my sister mutters.

I break from the kiss just long enough to say, “This one’s different.”

Aethan grins, and we pick up where we left off.