Page 18

THALASSAR

T he shell artisans worked with fluid motions, their fingers extending coral-carved lanterns along the ceremonial path.

Each lantern pulsed with glowing algae, casting rippling blue patterns across the white stone of the grand pavilion.

I stood at the center, directing without words, my hand gestures enough for my people to understand my wishes.

“Three spans wider between the water pools,” I said, pointing to where two attendants struggled with a massive crystal basin.

“The dance will require more space.”

One of the younger attendants accidentally knocked over a stack of pearled wreaths, sending them scattering across the pavilion floor.

“King , forgive me, I---“

I raised my hand.

“Continue your work. The wreaths will serve equally well scattered as they would stacked.”

Her relief was instant.

She bowed and resumed her task, gathering the wreaths with deliberate care.

Two days until Lucy became my queen.

Two days until the ocean itself would recognize our bond.

My scales warmed at the thought of her -- her strange, smooth skin against mine, her hair floating like dark seaweed when we swam together.

I paused in my directions, gaze drawn to the horizon where the storm wall churned---that powerful barrier I’d maintained for so long to keep outsiders away.

Soon it would protect not just my people, but the woman who had somehow breached all my defenses.

The wall seemed different now, less a division and more an embrace.

My reverie broke when Elder Veda approached, her ancient hands clutching a bundle of scrolls.

The old ritual texts, untouched for generations.

“Your preparations proceed well,” she said, nodding toward the pavilion.

“But I wonder if your mind is fully here with us.”

“It’s with her,” I admitted.

“And with what this ceremony means for our people.”

“Both thoughts worthy of a king.” Veda unfurled one of the scrolls, pointing to intricate markings.

“The last royal bonding was your parents’. I was much younger then, but I remember how your father insisted on adding these particular markings to honor your mother’s lineage.”

I traced the pattern with my finger, memorizing it.

“Will Lucy need markings too?”

“She will require adaptations. Her skin lacks our natural canvas.” Veda rolled the scroll carefully.

“But we’ve devised temporary pigments that will hold through the ceremony.”

One of my guards approached, breaking our conversation.

His hand rested on his weapon hilt, a sign he brought news requiring caution.

“The border patrols report increased movement from the Marsai territories, my king. Three scout parties detected in the outer reef. They retreated when challenged.”

My jaw tightened.

“Double the border watches. No aggressive action, but maintain visibility.”

“Yes, my king.” He departed with a bow.

“The Mersai tests your attention,” Veda observed.

“They know you’re distracted with preparations.”

“They’ll find me very focused if they approach closer.” I turned back to the preparations, watching as workers arranged shells in intricate patterns.

My mind drifted to Lucy’s acceptance of my proposal.

Her initial hesitation had frozen my heart, but then she’d smiled -- that brilliant surface-dweller smile that still startled me with its intensity.

“Yes,” she’d said simply.

“I’ll stay. I’ll be your queen.”

I’d lifted her then, spun her in a circle until she laughed.

Her laughter still echoed in my mind, precious and rare.

“Your thoughts drift again,” Veda noted, breaking into my memory.

“To happy places,” I replied.

“Is that not permitted on such occasions?”

Veda’s ancient face softened.

“It’s expected. Now come, we must prepare your ceremonial markings. The ritual cleansing begins at sundown.”

The chamber smelled of sea minerals and burnt coral.

Five stone basins lined the walls, each filled with different colored solutions -- the sacred pigments for my bonding markings.

I stood shirtless in the chamber’s center as Veda directed three ritual attendants who worked methodically, applying the first layer of markings to my scales.

“The spiral pattern represents continuity,” Veda explained, as a cool, silvery substance was painted onto the scales of my forearm.

“From your ancestors to your descendants.”

The pigment seeped into the edges of my scales, creating an iridescent pattern that shifted as I moved.

“Our traditions say the king receives these markings to show his connection to all past rulers,” she continued.

“Unlike common bonding markings, royal ones never fully fade.”

I rotated my arm, watching the pattern reflect the light.

“My father’s looked different.”

“Each king’s markings are unique to his reign and the challenges he faces.” Veda nodded to the attendants, who moved to my other arm.

“Yours incorporate the surface and depths -- a new element, for a new era.”

The marking ritual proceeded methodically, each pattern containing symbols of my lineage, my reign, and my future with Lucy.

The thought of her sent a surge of warmth through me.

Would she find these markings strange?

Beautiful?

Would her fingers trace them as mine traced the silvery streaks in her hair?

“Now the ancestral objects,” Veda directed, gesturing to a stone chest brought forward by two guards.

From it, she withdrew items I’d only seen in our historical archives -- a coral crown inlaid with memory pearls passed down through twenty generations, a ceremonial blade forged from the rare metal found only in the deepest trenches, and finally, a torque made of interwoven gold and silver, symbols of both land and sea.

“These will be presented during the ceremony,” Veda said, placing each item reverently on a cushioned pedestal.

“But you must select one personal item to present to your chosen one beforehand. A tradition as old as our kingdom.”

Before I could respond, Maris burst into the chamber, her usual composure abandoned.

“She looks magnificent!” she exclaimed, then caught herself, offering a belated bow.

“Forgive the interruption, King , Elder Veda.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.

“I assume Lucy’s preparations progress well?”

“The surface-dweller adapts quickly,” Maris said, her eyes bright with excitement.

“The ceremonial gown required adjustments, of course, but she stands as if born to it. The children have been teaching her the traditional songs, and she’s mastered three already.”

Pride swelled in my chest.

Lucy, always surprising, always exceeding expectations.

“She asked about you,” Maris added with a grin.

“Wanted to know if you were suffering through as many fittings and traditions as she is.”

“Tell her my suffering is profound and constant,” I joked, wincing slightly as one of the attendants applied a particularly cold pigment to my shoulder.

Veda dismissed the attendants with a wave, then approached me with something clutched in her ancient hand.

When she opened her palm, I stared in wonder.

My mother’s royal emblem -- a small, crescent-shaped pendant of woven silver and pearl.

I’d last seen it around her neck the day she died.

“This belongs to your queen now,” Veda said softly.

“Your mother would have wished it.”

I took the pendant carefully, feeling its weight -- physical and symbolic -- in my palm.

“Thank you, Veda. For preserving this. For everything.”

She placed her wrinkled hand on my freshly-marked forearm.

“Your mother would have loved Lucy. Different as they are, they share the same courage. The same heart.”

My throat tightened with emotion I rarely allowed myself to display.

I inclined my head, words failing me.

“The personal gift should be given tonight,” Veda continued, practical once more.

“According to tradition, you’ll spend the night separated, with you keeping watch over her sleep before dawn brings your bonding.”

“A night apart,” I murmured.

“After everything, that seems...”

“Necessary,” Veda finished firmly.

“Some traditions exist for good reasons, young king.”

I nodded, closing my fingers around my mother’s emblem.

One night of separation before a lifetime together seemed a small price to pay.

Lucy’s quarters had been transformed with shells and luminous crystals, giving the chamber an otherworldly glow.

She stood at the window overlooking the depths, her silhouette outlined against the dark waters beyond.

When she turned, my heart stuttered in my chest.

She wore a simple robe of pearl-white silk, her hair loose around her shoulders.

The streaks of silver shimmered in the light, making her appear as if crowned with moonlight.

“There you are,” she smiled, crossing the room to me.

“I was beginning to think they’d lock you away until the ceremony.” Her eyes widened as she noticed the intricate markings on my arms.

“Wow. Those are beautiful.”

I extended my arms, letting her see the patterns fully.

“Royal bonding markings. They tell our story.”

Her fingers traced one of the spirals on my forearm.

“Our story? I’m in these patterns?”

“Here,” I guided her finger to a series of interlocking waves.

“This represents the surface meeting the depths. And here---“ I showed her another pattern near my shoulder, “---this is the symbol for a queen from distant shores.”

She traced the patterns with delicate touches, sending ripples of pleasure across my skin.

“They planned for someone like me?”

“Not exactly. Veda adapted ancient symbols. Our people have legends of surface dwellers, though few believed them truth until you arrived.”

Lucy stepped back, taking me in fully.

“You look... regal. Different.” A teasing smile played at her lips.

“Should I bow or something?”

I pulled her close instead, my hands at her waist.

“I prefer when you’re close enough that bowing would be impractical.”

She laughed, resting her hands against my chest, careful of the fresh markings.

“Tomorrow we’re going to be married. Or bonded. Or whatever your people call it.”

“Bound for life,” I translated.

“More permanent than marriage as your people define it.”

“That’s... intense.” She met my gaze.

“But I want it. I want you.”

I held out my closed fist, opening it to reveal my mother’s pendant.

“This belonged to my mother. The queen before you. Tradition holds that I give you something personal before our bonding.”

Lucy inhaled softly.

She touched the pendant with reverent fingers.

“It’s beautiful. Are you sure?”

“It belongs to my queen. That’s you.” I lifted it, placing it around her neck.

The silver gleamed against her collarbone.

She touched it, then reached into her pocket.

“I made something for you too. It isn’t as beautiful or meaningful, but...” She pulled out a small device, placing it in my palm.

“It’s a modified communicator. I’ve been working with some of your tech specialists. It should reach farther than anything you currently have.”

I turned the device over, noting how she’d incorporated our ancient materials with her own knowledge.

“For searching for your team?”

She nodded.

“After the ceremony. I still need to find them, . If they’re alive...”

“We will search,” I promised.

“Together. This kingdom’s resources will be yours to command.”

“Thank you.” She stepped closer again.

“There’s so much we don’t know about each other yet. So much to learn.”

I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We have time. Years. Decades.”

“Decades,” she repeated, wonderment in her voice.

“I still can’t believe I’m staying. That this is real.”

“It’s real.” I traced the line of her jaw.

“Tomorrow, it becomes official.”

She rose on her toes, pressing her lips to mine.

The kiss was gentle at first, then deepened with hunger that made my blood surge hot beneath my markings.

Her hands slid up my chest to my shoulders, careful of the fresh patterns.

With reluctance, I broke the kiss.

“Tradition demands we spend this night apart. I’m to watch over your sleep until dawn, when the ceremony begins.”

Lucy’s eyebrows rose.

“Watch me sleep? That’s... a little weird.”

“Many of our traditions might seem strange to you,” I acknowledged.

“As yours do to us. But this one symbolizes my pledge to guard you, even in your most vulnerable state.”

She considered this, then nodded.

“Okay. But one more kiss before tradition separates us.”

I pulled her close again, losing myself in her warmth, her uniquely human scent.

Her body pressed against mine sent desire coursing through me -- desire I would need to control until after our bonding.

Finally, regretfully, I guided her to her bed.

“Sleep well, my almost-queen.”

Lucy slipped under the covers, her dark hair spreading across the pillow.

“This feels like the night before everything changes.”

“It already changed the moment you fell into my ocean,” I told her, settling into the ceremonial guardian’s chair beside her bed.

She smiled sleepily, the events of the day catching up with her.

Her eyes drifted closed.

“I’m glad I fell.” Her voice was soft.

“I’m glad you caught me.”

I watched as her breathing deepened and evened out, her face relaxing into peaceful slumber.

Tomorrow, she would become my queen, binding our lives and fates together.

Tomorrow, my kingdom would truly enter a new era.

In the quiet of her chamber, with only the gentle sound of her breathing and the distant song of the deep currents, I allowed myself to fully acknowledge how dramatically my life had changed since her arrival.

From solitary king to besotted mate, from isolated ruler to bridge between worlds.

I traced the scales on my forearm, following the newly applied patterns that told our story.

Lucy’s steady breathing filled the room, a rhythm I hoped to fall asleep and wake to for the rest of my days.