16. Muted Gossip | Lyra
Lyra was led back to her rooms and deposited gently inside. “Your own servants will be here soon to ready you. There’s a High Tide ceremony this afternoon, and you are required to attend. The new Tidal Master,” Drystan scowled, “looks forward to meeting you.”
With the collar still around her throat, she couldn’t respond before he swam out of her room and shut the door behind him. She caught a glimpse of Fang and Angler in the hallway, both looking in opposite directions.
The silence overwhelmed her.
Lyra screamed and screamed. But no sound came out.
Her throat was raw from the burning, and the points of the collar pierced her flesh. Neither came close to the emotions that were twisting her insides up.
Wilder was in danger, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Her heart was glass, shattering into tiny pieces and scattering into the current.
She closed her eyes, feeling the searing behind her eyelids, but knowing no tears would fall here.
It took her a while to pull herself together, and luckily, she did before two mermaids entered her room.
They were not Verilia or Taria. Lyra rubbed her eyes and sighed. Clad in diaphanous white gowns with tight buns, the new arrivals floated just inside the door, their heads bowed low in supplication.
Lyra had never had servants before.
Mermaids having any kind of job outside of the home was only because of limited circumstances, like being orphaned or sold by their families to the crown.
The taller of the two looked familiar, however, from the bright white of her hair. The shorter one with hair the color of sand, a soft, golden beige, had a thick white gown laid over her outstretched arms.
“Your Highness,” the one in the gown mumbled.
Lyra pointed to the collar and then to her mouth before waving her finger in a “no” motion.
“King Drystan has given us orders, and we are aware of your inability to communicate,” she explained. “I’m Lorelai.”
“And I am Ondine,” the taller one answered.
She looked up, and the skin around her eyes tightened as she fought to keep her face blank.
Lyra struggled to keep the surprise off her face.
It was Ondine, Seraphina’s younger sister.
Lorelai bowed low, but Ondine barely lowered her chin.
“We’re going to do your hair,” Lorelai said, and lifted the gown. “And dress you for the ceremony.”
Lyra glanced down at the lilac kylix she wore for her breakfast with Drystan. It was simple, but also intricately embroidered with seashells and rising waves.
Lyra pointed at her kylix and then made a confused face.
“They’re not appropriate for ceremonies. Mermaids are to be covered in a way that does not attract the male gaze,” Ondine answered with a sneer.
Lorelai gaped at Ondine’s harsh tone before snapping her mouth shut.
But Ondine’s clear distaste for Lyra was not surprising. Seraphina wasn’t exactly a friend anymore.
Lyra rose from bed, throwing back the blankets before floating to the vanity to take a seat. She sat with a wince.
Ondine and Lorelai tugged the white dress over Lyra’s head, careful around the collar, and then fastened the buttons that stretched all the way down the back.
The sleeves ballooned out, giving the illusion of a bell. It covered her completely from shoulder to wrist, and her neck down to the tips of her fins. It reminded her of a mortal dress but more sterile, like some kind of religious figure.
Lyra glared at the amount of fabric before meeting Lorelai’s eyes in the mirror.
Lorelai’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It will be uncomfortable at first. But the Tidal Master requires it.”
Ondine smiled a happy, satisfied smile at Lyra’s obvious discomfort. “It is wonderful what he has done for us all,” she mused.
Lorelai’s hands stilled for a heartbeat before Ondine continued on. “The ceremonies are now held once a week to observe the tides. Modesty has been restored, and those who don’t observe the olde ways are punished—as they should be.”
She spoke with the kind of vigor that Lyra would have about her favorite book. But it was Ondine’s words that had little bells ringing in Lyra’s ears.
Modesty has returned?
Since when had it left?
Olde ways? Punishment?
Lyra met Lorelai’s gaze in the mirror and tilted her head just a fraction.
“Our princess has been gone and does not know of all the new changes, Ondine.”
Ondine beamed. “I would be happy to explain, of course. Aegir has heard the word of our god. He is the mouthpiece, and we must listen. Even as females, we should sing Ennosidas’ praises!”
Lyra pressed her lips into a thin line to keep from reacting with disgust.
“It’s because we haven’t that we have been punished,” Ondine muttered. “Lorelai’s parents were killed in the earthquake, as were many others. It is our judgement.”
Lorelai trembled as she continued working. Lyra understood now why she had chosen not to explain these new ways to her—she was in pain.
“My own parents were beheaded. All my siblings serve the crown or Aegir in some fashion now for repentance. As we should.” Ondine nodded in an appreciative way.
Lyra stilled, not having expected that answer. Her parents were murdered, and she gladly served the people who had done it?
It grew quiet, and Lyra pondered the direction this conversation had taken.
Religion was already a tricky beast to face.
It preyed on the poor and gave righteous conviction to the powerful. They wielded it as a sword against all who stood against them and their power. Trying to refute their claims was impossible.
People never liked to be proven wrong and would cling to their beliefs despite facts rather than face their own falsehoods.
The tugging on her scalp increased as Ondine and Lorelai twisted the braids up into a large bun. Her face was pulled tight as they placed the pins.
It was painful, as was everything here.
She missed Daisy, her gentle touch and kind conversation. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to ease the stinging that had begun.
“There,” Lorelai said, patting Lyra’s shoulders. “All done.”
Lyra blinked and stared at the stranger in the mirror. Her hair had been fashioned into a tight and sleek bun.
The dress billowed around her, giving her a shapeless form. Without the enhancement of cosmetics, she appeared youthful and innocent.
It was the perfect disguise for the monster that writhed within her veins. She wouldn’t be a suspect in the collapse of their society if she continued to look this way.
There was a sharp knock on the door before Drystan breezed in without waiting for acceptance.
“Is she ready?”
Both mermaids dropped into very low bows.
Lyra swiveled on the stool to face him.
He was dressed rather modestly as well. A cloak made of thick turquoise covered his usually bare chest and stomach. The sleeves were tight around his broad shoulders before flaring out at his wrists. They fluttered like a waving flag as he waved off her servants.
His golden hair was perfectly styled, not moving in the slightest against the swaying current. The robe was just as long as her gown, and only the tips of his fins were visible.
Lyra tugged at the high neck of her white gown. It came up so high that it pressed the collar into her flesh.
She felt the sting of each spine as they pierced her skin. She held carefully still to keep them from digging in further.
Drystan jerked his chin, dismissing her mermaids. It wasn’t until they were well out of earshot that he addressed her. “Uncomfortable, isn’t it?”
Lyra quirked a brow. That sounded closely like criticism of the new Tidal Master’s rules.
Drystan rolled his neck and flexed his shoulders. She watched his obvious discomfort with pursed lips.
She wanted to ask him how he truly felt about all this, but with the collar still pressing its spike into her throat, she could not.
Drystan shut the door behind him and leaned his head back against it. For the first time since Lyra had known him, his composure slipped.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, and she could hear the fabric creak from the strain. The sleeves were so tight. He must be uncomfortable.
“I’m sure you have many questions,” he began.
She blinked slowly, unable to nod her head yes.
“My uprising would have faced more opposition had your father not weakened our people through religious extremism. That was how I managed to gain a foothold in the first place.”
The weight of all his responsibilities must have loosened his tongue. Lyra could think of no other reason for his being forthcoming with this information.
Lyra studied every inch of his face for any tell.
“If you keep staring at me like that, I’m going to assume you’re admiring my handsome face,” Drystan said with a smirk, his eyes roving over the length of her body.
She snarled her lips back in disgust.
Drystan swam closer to her, and she tensed, holding herself steady and not retreating.
“Don’t bite me,” he murmured as he reached to stroke her cheek.
Lyra grimaced and turned her head away from his touch.
Pain lanced through her as the spikes stabbed further into her. She wondered if the magic also kept her from bleeding or if everyone would see the blood stain her white gown.
Drystan sighed and dropped his hand.
“I told you that I loved you—and I meant it. I’m going to rule this kingdom, and I want you at my side. Not behind me. Beside me.”
She wanted to scream at him.
Is that why you offered me up as a hostage to our enemies? You bartered me away to further your own goals and then accused me of turning my back on our people.
I will never trust you.
But instead, she pointed a single finger at the collar around her throat.
Her throat was surely blistering from the heat that flared each time she merely desired to speak.
He stared at her for a heartbeat. She must not be bleeding then. He didn’t react as if she had been.
“The ceremony awaits, and we shouldn’t be late,” he said, turning away from her. He gestured to the door and held out an arm for her to take.
Lyra didn’t move.
Drystan turned around to see her staying put and crossing her arms over her chest.
“If you come with me now—and behave—I will remove the collar after the ceremony.”
She would do anything to have this collar removed, and he knew it.
But she didn’t move.
She didn’t trust him.
“I promise,” he said through gritted teeth, placing a hand on his chest.
Lyra conceded and brushed past him out of her room.