The days following the wedding were a dreamy haze.
Kael and Lyra settled into a rhythm of morning swims and long walks, laughter echoing through the trees. The villagers treated them like royalty, though neither of them asked for it. Children brought offerings of coral hearts and painted shells. Elders gifted blessings, folded into seaweed scrolls or spoken beside the fire.
It was quiet.
Peaceful.
Perfect.
Until the visitors came.
Three shadows on horseback rode into the village one golden morning, cloaks snapping like warnings in the wind.
Kael froze the moment he saw them.
"Brothers," he muttered.
Lyra tilted her head. "You never mentioned them."
"I had nothing kind to say."
The horses halted before their home, and Kael stepped forward, hand already clenched. Lyra stood beside him.
Prince Rael, the eldest—stoic and sharp-eyed. Prince Silen, second-born—sleek as an eel and just as slippery. Prince Joren, the youngest of the trio—barely older than Kael but twice as arrogant.
"Well, well," Rael said, looking around the cove with a twisted smile. "So this is where our prodigal brother's been hiding."
Kael didn't answer.
Silen dismounted with theatrical grace. "Father let you run wild, and this is what you found? A beach hut and a barefoot bride?"
Joren snorted. "Charming." His eyes flicked to Lyra, lingering.
She felt the heat of it and stood taller.
Rael gave a mocking bow. "Lady Lyra, was it? The people of the court are dying to know what charms convinced our brother to throw away a throne."
Kael stepped between them. "Enough."
But Joren didn't stop. "No need to be jealous, brother. If you're done with her, I wouldn't mind a taste."
Silence cracked across the cove.
Lyra's eyes narrowed, her spine stiff. The air around her began to shimmer faintly, like mist rising from hot stone.
Kael's fist collided with Joren's jaw.
Joren stumbled backward, blood blooming from his mouth.
"You ever speak to her again like that," Kael growled, "and you'll leave this cove with fewer teeth than you came in with."
Rael chuckled, as if amused. "Ah. So you are serious. Father thought maybe it was enchantment."
"It is," Lyra said coldly. "Love is a powerful spell."
Silen raised a brow. "Is it also what makes you leave your kingdom in ruin for the sake of a beach tryst?"
Kael clenched his fists again. "You don't belong here. Leave."
Rael turned his horse with a hum. "We'll be nearby for a few days. Consider this... a courtesy call."
They rode off with smug smiles, leaving tension hanging like thunder.
That night, Kael sat on the rocks, anger simmering beneath his skin.
Lyra came to him quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I've faced worse."
"That doesn't make it right."
"I don't need you to defend me, Kael. But I love that you did."
He pulled her into his lap. "They don't know you. They don't deserve to."
She rested her forehead to his. "Then we'll protect what's ours."
He kissed her slowly, like anchoring himself in her warmth. "You're my home now."
She smiled, though her eyes were distant. "Then we'll protect it."
The next morning, the three brothers returned—this time uninvited, barging into Elli's inn and stirring up questions. They threw coin around like pebbles and spoke to the villagers with mocking concern about Kael's "sudden disappearance" and his "compromised decision-making."
Lyra watched them from a distance. Then she stepped forward.
She entered the inn barefoot, sea salt in her hair and fire in her eyes.
"My lords," she said, voice sweet as honeyed brine, "perhaps I haven't made myself clear."
Rael turned to her, amused. "Oh, please do."
Lyra stepped closer, her presence suddenly overwhelming, the air thickening with magic.
"You insult me in my home. You threaten my beloved. You treat these people like pawns."
Silen opened his mouth, but Lyra's eyes flashed ocean blue and the room trembled faintly.
"I've drowned men for less."
Rael scoffed. "Empty threats."
She didn't flinch. She raised her hand, and water—sweet, clean seawater—burst from the pitcher on the table, twisting in midair like a snake.
It slammed into Silen's chest, knocking him backward through the inn's door. He landed in the dirt, gasping, soaked and dazed.
Joren rose, sword halfway drawn—
But the water coiled again, slapping the sword from his grip with a sharp snap, sending it clattering to the floor.
Rael stared, white-knuckled.
"You have ten minutes to leave," Lyra said, voice low. "Or the next wave I summon won't be so gentle."
Joren scrambled to his feet, dragging Silen up beside him.
Rael's pride cracked, but survival won out. "You're no mere peasant girl."
"No," she said, stepping forward. "I'm the sea's daughter. And this cove is mine."
The brothers retreated, humiliated, retreating to their horses like shadows at dawn.
The villagers cheered softly behind closed doors. Elli simply poured herself a drink.
Kael arrived moments later, breath catching as he saw Lyra standing in the doorway, wild and radiant.
"What happened?" he asked.
She smiled faintly. "Nothing. I just reminded them who they were speaking to."
He kissed her then, fiercely, reverently.
And when they pulled apart, the tides felt calmer.
In the days that followed, the brothers were gone. No trace. No goodbye. Just silence.
The cove healed quietly. Lyra hummed to the waves again. Kael built her a coral garden with his hands. Vaelen seemed pleased. Elli served sweet wine more often.
Miri said nothing, but her eyes glimmered with approval.
And the lovers, for now, remained untouched by the world beyond.