"Some truths cut deeper when spoken by those who mean well."
The next day, the sun's rays penPromoteetrated the Pearl Castle, and the morning was too bright. Even with the sea-mist draped against the crystalline walls of the Pearl Castle, light still managed to pierce through like spears through gauze. I sat at the head of the dining table, the weight of the throne's expectations coiling around my shoulders like a second cloak.
The silence was oppressive as forks scraped softly against ceramic. A silver pitcher glugged as Thalia, of all people, moved to refill someone's glass just to fill the unbearable quiet. I did not ask her why. I suspected the goddess of storms was on edge. We all were.
Everyone was seated. Lady Nerisca, straight-backed and predatory as ever. General Lysander to my right, his fingers twitching against his goblet. Ellowen, calm and unreadable as the tide. And Caelan… across from her, lounging like the quiet was not gnawing at him like it was at the rest of us.
"Did you sleep well?" Caelan asked Ellowen, his voice softer than usual, even warm.
She nodded, sipping her tea. "Well enough. Though the Pearl Castle is unlike any place I have stayed. It breathes differently."
"Like it's alive," Caelan agreed.
"And watching," she added with a faint smile.
Caelan turned to glance at one of the glimmering glass walls. "I like it. Still feels like a cage, though. Beautiful, but a cage all the same."
I stiffened. He knew exactly what he was saying, and before I could respond, not that I had planned to, Lady Nerisca's voice cut clean through the calm like a blade through a kelp vine.
"I believe it's time we discuss the matter of His Majesty's Abyssal Consort."
Caelan choked on his drink so violently that I thought he might fall out of his chair.
Ellowen's laughter came next. Soft, musical, and entirely unhelpful.
Thalia did not bother to hide her snicker, glancing at me under her lashes with that maddening smirk of hers. She had been waiting for this moment like a cat waits at a mouse hole.
General Lysander growled low in his throat. "This again?"
And as if the gods themselves conspired to add insult to my morning, the deep, unmistakable sound of Tharion's muffled laughter echoed through the upper levels of the castle, ghostly and infuriating.
I closed my eyes for a moment. Just one moment. And breathed in the scent of salt and seagrass that clung to the chamber. "Nerisca," I said, not lifting my gaze, "if your goal was to destroy what little peace remains in this room, congratulations. You have succeeded."
She dared to tilt her head and smile. "I merely thought it time we spoke of your future. The realm grows restless. The other High Lords are watching."
"The realm can continue watching," I said sharply. "And you can continue holding your tongue. My consort, if I ever choose to take one, will be my choice and not the council's."
Across the table, Caelan had gone unusually quiet. His fingers toyed with the rim of his cup, his lashes low over his eyes. The chair still scraped against the floor as I stood, but I let the silence hang let it stretch taut across the chamber like a drawn bowstring. Their gazes were on me. Lady Nerisca's smug, polished calm. Lysander's boiling frustration. Ellowen's curiosity. And Caelan was still quiet, still watching me with those beautiful green, unreadable eyes.
I did not want to speak again. Gods, I did, but they were waiting. Expecting. Pushing, and so I gave them what they deserved. "If you're truly here to discuss the dark pulse rising in the deep," I said, my voice as steady as the tide, "then speak." The silence trembled. A current of held breath "But if this"—I swept my gaze over them, slow, deliberate— "is going to spiral again into talk of consorts and councils and royal fucking bed mates..."
Thalia smirked behind her cup, and I did not smile. "Then Tharion will show you the way out. The same way he showed General Kallion."
That silenced even Lady Nerisca, and her chin lifted, but her words remained behind her teeth. General Lysander let out a sharp exhale, something close to a laugh, though it held no joy. "Well, that clears the water."
Ellowen leaned back in her seat, calm as ever. "The tremors are spreading, Majesty. The seabeds near the western rift are cracking. My scouts say the reefs there have gone quiet." She was shifting the subject back gracefully. Wisely.
I remained standing, the tide of the room shifting as I claimed the moment, and I knew that even though I hated it, the Council needed direction and answers.
"I felt it," I said flatly. "What stirs beneath the waves is not subtle anymore. It is rising, and it is hungry. I will go to the trench myself and investigate." That caught their attention.
"You'll go alone?" Lysander asked, brows furrowed.
"I've always gone alone," I replied. "And I return."
Lady Nerisca pursed her lips, clearly wanting to object, but I raised a hand before she could speak. "One more day," I said, sweeping my gaze across them. "That is all the hospitality I offer. The Pearl Castle is not meant to house council meetings or politics. It is not built for guests, it is built for silence, solitude, and exile."
Caelan arched a brow, as if amused by my abruptness, and Ellowen nodded once, understanding my boundary. Then I turned my eyes to Lord Ardanis, and his shoulders stiffened before I even spoke. "I'll need the Fae Clan's records," I said. "Your knowledge. The ocean speaks differently to your kind. I want to know what the Fae felt. How the magic hit your blood. That may help narrow the nature of what is rising."
He did not answer at first, and the silence drew taut again until Ellowen turned her sharp, scholarly gaze toward him and snapped, "Tell him, Ardanis. Enough of the secrets."
Even Caelan blinked in surprise at her bite, and Ardanis exhaled, jaw tight, and then finally met my eyes.
"What's rising…" he said slowly, "we do not have a name for it in our oldest texts. We felt it brush the roots of the world tree briefly. And it felt ancient."
I frowned. "Older than what?"
He hesitated again, then finished, voice low and uneasy:
"Older than you, Abyssal Sovereign."
The words landed like stones dropped into the deep, and no one spoke, and even Thalia stopped tapping her fingers. For a long time, I stood there still, unreadable. Older than me? There was not much that was. Whatever this thing was, it had waited. Waited until now to stir or to breathe. And if it truly came from a time before my dominion, then perhaps even I had something to fear.
I folded my arms, eyes still on Ardanis. "You say it felt ancient," I said slowly, "but what did it smell like?"
Magic always leaves a faint but distinct mark. Especially when it is old. Oceanic forces do not rise without leaving their mark in the air, the salt, the breath of the world. Ardanis shifted uncomfortably in his chair, mouth opening, then closing again. I watched his gaze flick toward the end of the table, toward Caelan, and that was when I knew. Not a word had passed, but Caelan's jaw had tightened. He did not meet Ardanis' eyes, and he was staring at the wall. Expression sharp. Irritated. As if he already knew where this was going and wanted none of it.
I opened my mouth to speak, but it was Ellowen who moved first. She turned toward Caelan and gently placed her hand on his forearm. Her voice was a whisper, barely audible even to me.
"Please."
Caelan exhaled, sharp through his nose, and then finally turned to look at her then at me and everything fell into place. It was not Ardanis who had truly felt the ocean shift.
It was Caelan.
And suddenly, I saw what had been in front of me this entire time. The unease Ardanis always carried around Caelan. The hesitation. The tension in his shoulders anytime Caelan so much as entered the room. He was not just irritated by Caelan's presence; he had always been afraid of Caelan's powers.
Caelan was Fae, yes but more than that. The real power in the bloodline. The one born with senses deeper than roots, older than bones and his half blood was of the ancient witches of Emerald Gulf.
I straightened slowly, voice quiet but clear. "It was you who felt it."
Caelan shrugged, his lips pulling into a crooked smile, but there was no humour in it. "I didn't want to be the one to say it."
"Why?" I demanded.
"Because if I speak it out loud," he said, "then it becomes real."
The room held still. Ardanis said nothing, and Ellowen kept her hand on Caelan's arm, grounding him, and I regarded him in a different light now. He had touched something ancient and something that had brushed against the Fae roots and whispered to him first. This man was power itself, and that is why he was able to breach my mind link and speak to me without anyone noticing it.
" That explains why they dragged you along " Lysander was the one who spoke and he took the words right out of my mouth and I watched the shame that laced Lord Ardanis and then it was replaced with anger, but Ellowen had pride in her face and it was Lady Nerisca whose face was thunderous with anger and fear.