Chapter 7
Seven
Kaden
It was as if Kaden was somewhere far away while his physical body floated, his muscles still and tense. The sea’s gentle caresses fluttered his fins, and those of the thousands of mer who surrounded him.
Denizens of his mother and aunt’s queendoms had shown to mourn their lost queen.
He’d expected tears. Anger. Even fear at what the queendom would become without her leadership. He hadn’t expected cold numbness to overtake him when he saw his mother earlier in the day in the mortician’s quarters.
If only Angie could be there with him. A torrent of melancholy doused him, and then, the briefest whisper of regret that he handed over the throne so freely to his uncle, so faint, he swore he imagined it.
If Kaden was the one making the decision, he wouldn’t have banned humans and mer from interacting again.
He would actively seek peace and answers from the humans he trusted.
At least, that was what he would want to do.
He shook the ‘what-ifs’ away. Uncle Saeryn was King and made the right call, barring humans from the queendom and mer from the surface.
He stared, fixated at the palace’s entrance, with mer lined up beside him and across from him in a straight line.
Each space of rock was occupied, and more mer floated above his head, upright and horizontal, glittering eyes and dazzling tails creating a kaleidoscope of colors in the deep, bleak dark.
Next to him, Cyrus lied on his bed, a heavy seagrass-fiber blanket over his tail to keep him weighted down. Sentinels had carried him from the infirmary, his gills and eyes fluttering open and closed. Adrielle floated upright beside him, holding Libbi with one hand and Hadrien with the other.
They kept their eyes pointed forward, waiting for the designated sentinels to bring Serapha from the palace to her final resting place, the cemeteries reserved for royals, in a little-known region of the Bering Sea.
Finally, directly in front of the palace’s entrance, Saeryn floated, flanked on one side by Cassia.
On his other side was his daughter, and Kaden and Cyrus’ cousin, Princess Aiereka, the expression on her austere face stoic and her tail held stiff and straight, her fins working to keep her balance.
Her short, raven hair, streaked with hues of sargassum, was tied back into a tight bun, and she was adjusting the fibrous, beige cloth around her chest.
Though he hadn’t had the opportunity to spend time with her in the past several tidesyears, he always saw her as the younger sister he never had.
Aiereka’s focus appeared singular, targeted at the palace’s entrance, where his mother would soon be carried out. Kaden tore his gaze away from Saeryn and Aiereka when two sentinels emerged from the palace, holding their hands up for the mourning ceremony to begin.
Saeryn was the first to speak, as was customary for the reigning monarch to honor their predecessor. The sentinels moved Serapha’s body in between them, adorned with jewels and covered with regalia of bright ruby and gold, wrapped around her to prevent it from floating away.
Would his mother have wanted Saeryn to take the throne?
She never mentioned it in her life. Now, he would never know the answer.
After his brief speech honoring Serapha and thanking her for using her life to serve the mer, he raised his chin to the mer citizens above his head and motioned for Cassia to continue.
Cassia blinked and set her jaw, and for a singular moment, she looked so much like her sister.
“Thank you, brother. It is with a heavy heart that I am here this tidesday to bid farewell to my sister, and my friend. But she remains a pillar of respect, not only to her people, but to other queendoms who looked to her for guidance.” Her gaze flickered down to Serapha, and a forlorn shadow overtook her features.
“Without her leadership, the landwalkers would have destroyed you two tidesyears ago. She rallied her people, struck them in a way that reverberated through their land. She avenged her lifemate and remained strong—a force to be reckoned with until the end. You were taken too soon.”
Memories of their war returned to Kaden in a disturbing blur as a collective murmur rippled through the mer crowd.
Cassia raised one hand and placed a fist to her heart in tandem with Saeryn, bowing deeply to Serapha. “Thank you, sister, for being a shining example to us all. You will be missed and forever remembered. And now.” She raised her upturned palm to Kaden, a gesture for him to begin. “Please speak.”
His shoulders seized as jeers and cries of dissent spread across the citizens. He made out some of their words and phrases, each serving to twist his stomach into painful knots.
“Landwalker-lover!”
“She died because of you!”
Yet, some mer lent their support.
“He did it for love!”
“...a good son...exemplary prince!”
“Silence!” Three members of the mer council, Darya, Allie and Alasdair, standing at Saeryn’s side shouted in unison. Their voices rippled through the waves, and the cacophony died down into a thick silence.
“Show Prince Kaden the respect he deserves. We do not condone disrespectful behavior here, and especially not toward your prince,” Saeryn added, his glare shooting daggers at the offending mer.
“You will allow him to speak without interruption.” Adrielle’s firm voice sailed through the tides.
“Mother, you will be missed.” He forced himself to settle his shaking voice.
“Our queendom was built under yours and Father’s rule.
And there will never be another monarch like you.
Rest in peace, Mother.” He swallowed hard, as if stone was lodged in his throat, his gaze quickly flitted to Saeryn, who faced the crowds, head held high.
“We must seek answers and maintain peace with the humans. We must find out who was responsible for her passing.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Saeryn’s glare weighed heavy on him, and Kaden could have drowned.
Cyrus spoke next, assisted upright by Kaden and Alasdair, followed by Adrielle.
“It should come as no surprise that I’m not the biggest fan of humans.
” A dark chuckle escaped him. “After all, they’re responsible for my condition.
And were it not for my mother, I would likely be in even worse shape. Or dead.”
A murmur rippled through the mer crowd.
Cyrus continued. “She was an exemplary queen. And in this, I agree with Kaden. She would strive to seek answers from the humans. She would not want another war. In this way, we should honor her memory and her life.”
Kaden’s heart swelled at his brother’s words.
Half the mer crowd cheered, and the other remained silent and still.
Saeryn’s voice broke through, and the crowd’s attention was rapt.
“Might I remind you, dear citizens of Haibei, that Prince Kaden’s heart belongs to a landwalker?
” He swept an arm in Kaden’s direction. “Who is the most loyal landwalker to us. And as you can see, she is not here today to support the merman she supposedly loves.” Each of his uncle’s punctuated words struck Kaden in the gut.
Why was he sowing dissent during his sister’s funeral? How dare he? Still, he wouldn’t let Saeryn speak ill of Angie and turn the rest of the queendom against him.
A dull roar swept through the citizens.
Kaden spoke under his breath. “You barred humans from coming here.”
“This is not the time, Uncle Saeryn,” Cyrus added, timbre measured.
Saeryn bore his icy stare into his nephews, raising his voice so it carried to the mourners. “I would have made an exception for her. You should have asked, but you didn’t.”
Kaden’s skin tingled with unease and his lips moved, but no words emerged.
Saeryn turned back to the crowd, his expression softening. “But Prince Cyrus is right. This is not the time. Thank all of you for coming to celebrate and mourn our late queen this tidesday.” He nodded to the sentinels surrounding him, an indication that the ceremony was over.
Sentinels created a barrier around Serapha and carried her through the throngs of mer who prayed and spoke their condolences aloud.
They would leave through the seamounts surrounding the palace and travel another seamile to reach the royal cemetery.
When the mer dispersed and Saeryn and Cassia had returned to the palace with their entourage, Cyrus called Kaden. “Adrielle and I must take our leave, as it’s time to feed Libbi and Hadrien. But, please, meet us in our quarters at the turn of the tide.”
“The healers allowed you to return to the palace?” Kaden’s spirits lifted. It meant his brother was recovering well if he was removed from the healers’ constant day and night watch.
“Yes.” Cyrus called back as four sentinels swam beneath the bed and, each holding one corner, carried his bed on their backs. A hard edge laced his gruff voice. “See you there?”
Kaden nodded. He would be there.
The tides shifted and Kaden made one stop on his way to Adrielle and Cyrus’ chambers.
He fidgeted with the seaflute in his hands.
After the funeral, he wanted nothing more than to talk to Angie.
She hadn’t answered, leaving him to briefly wonder where she was.
With her family? Or asleep? Or simply not near her flute?
Before him, there was no mistaking Saeryn’s voice, addressing a family.
The palace was full of activity, but he didn’t recognize a good half of the sentinels and sentries patrolling about. When did they get there?
Kaden waited outside until a small family of mer left, their merling waving to him as they passed, the parents paying him no attention. He thinned his lips and swam through the open door.
Only Saeryn was present, not a sentinel to be found in the vicinity, or Cassia.
Then it hit him, a shudder vibrating beneath his skin. He had grown used to not seeing his father on the throne, but now, he would never see his mother on it, either. A sense of despondency struck his core.