Page 5

Chapter

Three

T his is a far cry from a Hallows feast. Where are the cakes?

The berry wine? Where is the damn sausage?

I can’t possibly survive here. My heart won’t take it.

Perhaps before I was spoiled with orgasms and sumptuous sausage, I could have been happy here, but my knights have corrupted me, and now nothing else will suffice.

Poseidon leads the way around the edge of a grand ballroom, the sea creatures all finding cause to stare at me like I’m an attraction.

I stick my tongue out at a lobster who retreats under the table like I might curse him.

Silly crustacean. Even if I could curse, I wouldn’t throw it around carelessly.

I would be a careful curser. Charming would be my first victim.

I would curse him to forever wear the glass shoe he insists on shoving on the feet of helpless maidens.

Just the one shoe, so he has to hobble around.

My lips curve in a smile. I like that version of the Cinderella tale a lot.

I should have been given control over the narrative.

I point to a bowl of tiny balls. “What’s that?” I whisper to Frank as I lift the silver spoon and prepare to put them on my plate. Luckily, the food is spelled, much like the plates. Otherwise, this place would be a mess.

“Fish eggs,” Frank answers.

I drop the spoon and spin to check if an angry fish mama is about to bite me. Nope, all good. “Why would she put her children on the food table?” I grumble.

Frank grabs the spoon I dropped and piles some eggs on his plate. “It’s a delicacy. Try it.”

My stomach flips. “I’m not really in the egg mood.”

“Don’t you eat the eggs of those gigantic birds?”

“Well, yes, but that’s different.”

“How?”

My brows knit as I think of Hamish and Eugene and their quirky butts squatting to lay an egg for breakfast. “Because they gift them to us.”

Right? Oh my Idols, did we steal their eggs? I’ll make it a priority to check in with them as soon as I get out of my watery grave.

“Don’t you also eat their meat?”

My face pales. I’m a cannibal. I eat the brethren of my friends. From now on, I vow to only eat fruit and vegetables—and perhaps a little sausage. Sausage doesn’t count, right?

I point to a less frightening plate of coated rings. “And that?”

“Squid.”

I side-eye the large squid hanging out in the shadow beneath a pillar. Is that condemnation shining in its eyes? Nope, I was done. You cannot eat creatures you share a ballroom with. “What can I eat that I also cannot speak to in this room?”

Frank casts a glance down the long elegant table filled to the brim with a colorful array of strange foods. He points at a bowl of seaweed. “The flora isn’t sentient.”

I screw my face up. I hold out for an entire tempo before my stomach wins. Sorry, Sid the squid. I pluck a ring and pop it into my mouth. It is… not bad. Not good, but not horrid. I bite into it carefully. The fish squeaks against my teeth, and I force myself to swallow.

“How was it?” Frank asks.

I shrug. “I’ll put anything in my mouth once.”

I sample a few more things; a shrimp skewer, which is my favorite, closely followed by crab cakes—not to be confused with actual cakes, of which there aren’t any. I avoid the fish eggs and decide I am not a fan of smoked salmon. Too slimy.

Once my belly has stopped protesting its empty state, we follow the king around the room while he makes jovial conversation with his subjects.

He starts off by introducing me to everyone, every single time, as if they haven’t all heard that I am Daphne Stone, the clumsy maiden who stole the dagger not once, but twice, before being fooled by the last Lady of the Lake into reuniting the two pieces.

Realization slaps me in the face. I’m a party story. Oh, how low I have fallen.

On the ninth stop, the king drops me as an interest piece altogether and instead, discusses the latest shine on his big fork.

There are lots of oohs and ahhs , and I am happy to fade into the shadows.

Perhaps I could join the squid? Although, I doubt I’d be welcome after munching on his friend, even if it was only one ring, which was probably the equivalent of a tip of a finger to us.

They can’t be that upset over a fingertip.

Who needs them, anyway? Shorter digits might be the fashion next annus.

The king suddenly spins to face me and tilts his head. “Why are you following me?”

I blink. “You said we should follow you.”

“I said no such thing. Pretty girls in floaty dresses belong in my bed, not at my feast.”

I park my hands on my hips. “I am neither on your bed nor your feast, and you said this was for me.”

He roars with laughter. “You are a confident young thing. Okay then, you’ve convinced me. Go wait in my chambers, and I shall grace you with my loins later.”

He’ll do what? “No loins, no bed, no floof for you. I am taken.”

“I like them feisty.”

Where did the somewhat hot, kind, older daddy vibe guy go? The one with cute nicknames and making me feel all special?

Poseidon squints at me and leans closer. “Why are you here? This is my ocean, my rules. We agreed you would leave me in peace.”

“I’ll happily leave you in peace. Just send me back.”

“This is Daphne, your majesty,” Frank says. I have never wanted to punch someone more than right now. Reminding him of who I am won’t help my mission to return to my sister and knights.

Poseidon’s eyes clear, and he sobers. “Yes, that’s right, the new Lady of the Lake. We should hold a feast in her honor.”

What in the fresh Blazes is happening?

“Indeed, we thought that would be what you wished,” Frank says carefully. “So we went ahead and arranged it.”

Poseidon glances around the room of sea folks with a big smile. “Excellent. What would I do without you?”

“Get annoyed with menial tasks, my king.”

“That’s right. Oh look, Medusa is here. I need to remind her to keep her headscarf on.”

Poseidon hurries over to the other side of the room, greeting an attractive woman wearing a bright pink wrap around a bulging mass of hair. Is her hair moving? Never mind. I don’t want to know.

“He has memory issues,” Frank explains in a hushed tone, so only I can hear. “It’s getting worse every annus, but it’s expected, given his age.”

We move around the edge of the room, giving me a clear visual of everyone milling around. “How old is he?”

“Some say a thousand annuses, some say more. It’s not truly known.”

I stumble at that declaration, but the water keeps me upright. “A thousand?” That’s impressive, given I’m pretty sure I will not make it half my expected lifespan, and this king has been around so much longer. The things he must have seen, witnessed, and experienced.

“Oh no,” Frank says with a wince. “Aphrodite is here. Excuse me one moment.” He swims off to greet the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

One with legs. We should be friends—leggy people are in the minority, and we should stick together.

Perhaps form a support group. She stops to speak with Poseidon and Medusa.

The latter gives me the creeps, so I sink backward until my back hits a pillar.

“Hi,” a timid voice says to my left.

I glance at the source, finding myself next to the squid from earlier. My chest tightens with guilt.

“I’m sorry. I only ate his tip,” I declare.

The squid wiggles. “It’s okay. I didn’t know him.”

I’m not sure that’s any better. Just because he was a stranger, doesn’t make the thought of one of your own being cooked and eaten okay.

“Why do you come here?” I would avoid this place if they served maidens on the feast table.

“It’s the will of the king. All creatures must be represented.”

The king needs to stop extending his will where it is not wanted. “What’s your name?” If you name your food, you can’t cook and eat it. That’s like an unwritten law of the realm.

“Maisy.”

“Hi, Maisy. I’m Daphne.”

“I know. Everyone knows.”

Right. “I could sure do with some friends down here.”

“You want to be friends with me? A squid?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not really the done thing.”

“I couldn’t give a rategon’s ass if it’s not the done thing. Do you want to be my friend?”

“Yes,” she squeaks.

“Excellent. Do you know where I live?”

“I do.”

“Then drop by later. We can talk about all things ocean, and you can fill me in on the dos and don’ts.”

“You have Frank.”

“Frank protects the sword and the narrative. Not me. I need folks who put me first, not my shiny sharp sword.”

Maisy wobbles like she’s trying to stand taller. “Then I accept your offer of friendship.”

I grin at her. “Excellent.”

“Looky here,” a familiar female voice says. “The maiden has met her destiny.”

Maisy squeaks in distress and contracts, a cloud of ink squirting from underneath her.

I turn, finding the sea witch from the cave. “You freaked out my friend. Apologize.”

The sea witch sneers at Maisy. “I don’t speak to lower lifeforms, let alone apologize.” I fold my arms, but Maisy makes a hasty retreat to the other side of the room.

“What do you want?” I snap.

“I told you I would be seeing you.”

“So you made a vague statement about my future and, low and behold, twisted it to declare you are some sort of psychic. Congratulations. Would you like a medal?”

One of her tentacles is shorter than the others. Seems to be my thing for sea creatures. Watch out—Daphne Stone is here to take your tips, but not the whole thing, just enough to count.

“Have you figured out what you are yet?” she sing-songs, ignoring my insult.

“Apparently, I am the Lady of the Lake.”

She smiles, but it’s not pleasant. It’s malicious and full of wickedness. “Pity. I thought you were so much more.”

“I am enough. A maiden at my core, a sister in blood, and a girl who is falling for her knights. This fairy tale I have found myself in is an accident at best, and a catastrophe at worst. Once people realize the chaos I cause, they’ll shove me out of the water and back onto land.”

She shakes her head. “Oh, what a tangled web you’ve weaved, Daphne Stone.”

“I am no spider. I have not woven any web.”

Frank suddenly appears next to me. “Sea witch, leave the Lady alone. You’re aware of the rules. You cannot touch or make deals with her.”

So a perk of my predicament is I’m protected? That’s good news. The sea witch winks at me. “I’ll see you soon, Daphne.” She slinks off into the crowd, who part to give her a wide berth before she exits the room.

“She gives me the creeps,” I decide.

“That’s not unreasonable,” Frank mutters. “If you are finished, we should return to the house. I’ll ensure you get settled in for the night.”

After a few more farewells, we meet Linda just outside of the palace walls. I climb on her back with a little more finesse this time, and we set off. I take in the wonders of the ocean as it appears to get darker with each passing tempo.

“Are there lights? Or am I going to be in the dark? Because I have to tell you, I struggle in the light of the diurnal, never mind when I’m blind.”

“There are spelled items in your home to provide illumination,” Frank answers.

Awesome, then bring on the night, because I need to make a Daphne-proof plan to get news to Gwyneth and the Stirlings that I am alive.