Page 3

“I am the keeper,” the merman says, puffing out his chest. Oh, cool. That pocket watch is actually a turn glass, filled with sand to mark the passage of time. I want one. Is it in the welcome to the water dwellers’ pack?

I give him a little wave. “Hey, I’m Daphne.”

He huffs. “I’m aware.”

Oh Idols, they have heard of me. Could it be just the good things? “What do you know?”

He points at the golden arch above the door, and I find my name etched into the metal. Wow. I never dreamed I’d be immortalized—except on my tombstone—and I’m constantly updating what I want on it every diurnal, or multiple times a diurnal, now that I mention it.

“So, is this my destiny?” It beats clumsy maiden, but doesn’t make up for the lost sister and four brothers who hold my heart. The rest of the realm can suck my butt. Apart from the mirror man, genie, and my capons.

The merman rolls his eyes. “No, it updates automatically whenever a new Lady of the Lake is chosen.”

“Chosen is a stretch; fooled is more accurate. Do I call you keeper or...”

“Frank.”

My mind sparks. “Your previous Lady told me to pass on the message that you still owe her, and she’ll be back to collect.”

He straightens his already neat waistcoat and huffs. “She forwent that privilege when she exited the water. Only current water dwellers can collect debts.”

“Good for you. You tell that bitch. Unless we can get her to swap back?”

He shoots me a withering look. Right. Not stupid.

“What does a keeper do?” If I could unravel the workings of this place, I could discover a way out and rejoin my sister and knights.

“I keep Lady of the Lake’s dwelling in order. I ensure the lineage is up to date, and I’m your official guide to your new life.”

Awesome—my sword came with a guide. That’s far more than I’ve ever had before. “So you keep me from creating chaos?”

He blinks, and I notice his eyelashes are silver. Pretty. “Is that a concern?”

I shrug. “Depends on how many objects get in my way.” Who am I kidding? I don’t need objects to find craziness in any situation.

He tilts his head and sighs. “Let’s get you and the sword inside.”

I wave my hand at the sharp, amused object. Definitely laughing at me. I can feel it. “Have at it.”

Frank shakes his head. “Only the Lady can touch the sword until she releases it to a knight worthy of her life.”

Oh, that makes sense. It must be difficult finding a worthy knight.

They would have to be truly spectacular to give up one’s life for.

I actually know four of them, but I doubt previous generations would have been as amazing as my knights.

Their pretty green eyes, smart humor, and golden muscles—which I could trace with my fingers for annuses—enthralled me.

Frank snaps his fingers in front of my eyes. “Daphne, pick up the sword and follow me into the house.” Right, no dreaming of the Stirlings. “When will I learn?” Frank mutters. “Better the Medusa you know. I’ve swapped a snarky bitch for a clumsy, clueless female.”

It’s not like I applied for the role, and he isn’t the first to curse the Idols because of my presence.

I would happily swap with any other female to his liking.

But for now, we are stuck. I grab the sword and jog in slow motion up the stairs and into the house.

Phew, that was a workout. I need a snack now.

Within the whimsical realm of this submerged sanctuary, an underwater reverie unfolds—a lesson in hyperrealism that dances between the absurd and the sublime. The entryway opens into a vast great room, strategically divided into sections through strategic furniture placement.

A sofa, so lush and inviting it appears plucked from the dreams of mermaids, should surely squelch, yet it beckons with a plushness sure to cushion the heaviest of asses.

The kitchen sprawls before me, resembling an aquatic wonderland, where pots and pans stubbornly cling to their surfaces like loyal marine sentinels.

I clasp a plate, twisting it, marveling at its tangible defiance. “It’s not glued,” I muse with disbelief.

“Why on Atlantis would it be glued?” Frank interjects, halting in front of a door, his tail curling around him like a cute question mark.

“So it doesn’t float away, of course,” I retort, as if a runaway plate might inspire a full-blown sea chase, complete with a dramatic score and an octopus orchestra. Now I have musical sea creatures on my mind.

“The king’s power holds everything in place.”

Another king? Haven’t we had enough of royalty? Couldn’t the ocean be free of them?

I put the plate down, step farther into the room, and eyeball a large shelf full of books. “Does he also keep the pages dry?”

“Of course. How would you read the stories? The ink would slip off.”

Silly me. Soggy stories, floating plates, and squashy sofas were not on the menu for this maiden. Wait, I’m now a Lady. That sounds much more impressive. If only anyone I knew was here to be impressed.

I follow Frank down a short hallway filled with a row of paintings, each of a Lady wearing the same dress as I am now. They should update their fashion, or at least have color options. White is such a poor choice for me, as it doesn’t hide my mishaps.

“The previous Ladies,” Frank confirms. “Such an honorable line you are joining.”

I pause at the wicked Lady that duped me. Maria. So innocent in name, but not in nature. “Honorable? The only way this ends is my death. How is that honorable?”

He grumbles something under his breath that I don’t bother asking him to repeat. I am fairly certain it wasn’t complimentary.

He throws open a door, and we enter a domed chamber.

In the center sits a floating bed with a stunning rainbow comforter.

Seaweed and coral hang from the ceiling to the four corners, and gauzy material floats around it.

I hope it’s an equivalent cloud bed. My precious ass can’t fathom sleeping on anything less now.

I’m a spoiled Lady who can hardly remember the lumpy bunk bed in a mud hut.

I spin with my sword, making Frank yelp and jerk back against the wall. Best he learns to give me a wide berth now; he’s far more likely to survive if he’s cautious.

“Where’s the bathing chamber?”

Faint amusement echoes from the sword. What’s so freaking funny?

“You are in the realm’s biggest bath,” Frank points out.

Huh. Yeah, I guess I am. But… “Where do we do our business?” I whisper so the judgy sword doesn’t hear me.

“Business?”

Oh, my Idols. “Where do I poop?”

Frank blinks and scratches the back of his head. If the sword could howl with laughter, it would. He points to a silver stand. I stare at it and tilt my head. Umm, how? I have zero clue. Perhaps he can demonstrate?

“That’s for poop?” I check.

Frank shakes his head. “No, that’s for your sword. I’ll, uh, let you get it settled. Then we need to take you to see the king.”

He disappears, and my mouth flops open. I drop the heavy blade onto the stand and huff.

“I don’t have the best history with kings,” I tell the sword.

“Which you know, given you witnessed and were actually complicit in my accidental stabbing. Actually, now I think about it… how much of that was me, and how much of that was you?”

The ruby eye of the dragon winks at me. I knew it.

I step back and park my hands on my hips with a scowl. “Just for that, you are staying here while I go meet the king. You think about your actions while I’m gone, and I’ll determine if accidental stabbings are in our future.”

Nothing.

Now to get through the next turn without accidentally murdering anyone.