Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Kaden
The hushed whispers lingered in Kaden’s ears as he paused in front of the council’s nondescript, rock doors.
Rumors swirled amongst palace staff and sentinels of Saeryn planning another attack with plans to strike at a larger port. “Vengeance for my sister,” he had purportedly said. “Show the landwalkers they cannot destroy our queen and expect no repercussions.”
Kaden reminded himself Saeryn wasn’t wrong to want revenge. Neither was Cassia.
But if there was going to be another attack, were Cassia and Varin planning another, as well? How many mer and humans had to die before their quest for retribution would be complete?
He wasn’t going to sit on his tail and find out.
Yet before he pushed the council doors open, he hesitated. The pesky feeling of unworthiness wormed its way into his head again. You’re not good enough for the throne, it said. You’re making a mistake.
Kaden quashed it.
Angie’s assurance she would lend her support, no matter what, and Cyrus’ affirmations lifted his spirits. Kaden had to believe he could, at least, do an adequate job as King.
He should have accepted the throne from the start; regret ripped at his chest like an angry, hungry shayu.
If he wasn’t the one who would swim forward and make a change, who else could? Cyrus was still infirm and unfit to rule.
Kaden pulled the doors open.
The five councilors floated in a circle, each holding their slates, deep in discussion, and Kaden approached, catching their conversation.
“Fish are scarce at the surface again,” Oryma said.
Alasdair spoke next. “But the deep-sea fishers and our mer at the surface are cordial to each other.”
“We should never have allowed landwalkers to fish so freely in our waters,” Allie grumbled. “Perhaps we should reinstate the late Queen Serapha’s order to release fish to the humans again only as needed.”
“King Saeryn repealed that though,” Hylin cut in. “We’ll set up a meeting with him to discuss.”
Kaden waited until they went quiet and made his presence known. “Smooth tides to you, noble counsel.”
The five mer turned to face him. “Prince Kaden.” Darya bowed her head, the rest of the mer following, and Kaden did the same. “What brings you here?”
Kaden’s heart crawled to his throat. How was he to start off this conversation? The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “What do I need to do to take the throne from Saeryn?”
“You gave it up on your own accord,” Allie replied. “There’s nothing we can do. From here, it is his bloodline that will succeed the throne upon his death or abdication.”
Kaden gritted his teeth. “He’s destroying our queendom.”
“On the contrary, we, and the citizens, believe he is acting in the queendom’s best interest.” Alasdair’s tailfins tapped on the smooth ground.
“So, there’s nothing we can do,” Kaden echoed Allie.
Allie and Alasdair looked at each other, then to Darya. “There are four conditions in which a monarch may be removed,” Alasdair said.
“What are they?” Kaden laser focused on the merman, who swam to the back shelves full of stone slates, and exchanged his with another.
“If the monarch is too ill to lead, physically or mentally, that is one reason,” Alasdair began.
Saeryn was neither.
“Two, if the monarch fails to follow our deity, Sanyue. If they do not believe in Her, or do not embody Her teachings of fair and just treatment for all. Or, if they are found not to be acting in the best interest of their subjects.”
The second one was contentious, but according to the council, it was clear Saeryn was acting in their queendom’s “best interest”.
“Three, if the monarch does not produce a suitable female heir.”
Kaden squirmed. The last one had to be something he could get his uncle on.
“Finally, if the monarch is proven to have committed a crime.”
That could be it. Kaden nodded at them and placed a hand to his heart as a show of respect.
“Will you be joining us at our next meeting?” Darya asked before Kaden took his leave.
Another nod from Kaden, and he left the council’s chambers. Did Saeryn commit a crime? He had to find out; it was his last chance before Saeryn made a decision that could cost them their queendom, their seas. If he hadn’t already.
He swam westward until he exited the palace’s middle layer and made his way to the seafloor level where their sentries and sentinels trained.
The rectangular chamber was an empty space, where sentinels sparred with one another and moving targets in one half.
The other half was reserved for sentries where they trained on alertness, observation skills, signals, and building their own physical fitness and resilience.
Kaden swam over their heads and descended behind a group of sentries floating about, resting and chattering amongst themselves, their trainer at the head. “Sorry to disturb you in your time of training.”
The sentries and their trainer stopped their chatter, giving him their attention.
Some bowed, others exchanged nervous glances with each other, but Kaden wasn’t going to let the latter’s reaction deter him.
Not anymore. “I have a favor to ask. And will repay you accordingly for your time and effort.”
“What’s that?” the trainer asked.
“I need some information on our king’s background. His past, and if he has ever done anything suspicious.” It pained Kaden to have to ask. He thought he knew Saeryn and grieved the uncle he thought he had.
“You wish us to go against His Majesty?” the trainer dropped her voice to a furious whisper. “Do you know what would happen to us if he found out? And he will find out.”
“I only ask you to investigate his records in the archives. Nothing more. If anyone from the court asks, you are only seeking information to–” Kaden was not a good liar, and he racked his brain quickly for a plausible excuse.
“T-to contribute to a project about his family tree and his life that will be used to teach future generations.” He flinched at the waver in his voice.
“And if you are caught, you can pin it on me, and I will take full responsibility and deny your involvement.”
The sentries commiserated amongst each other, their susurration filling his ears.
Kaden waited, rubbing his arms and looking around, incessantly flicking the distal part of his tail, anything to make the time go by quicker.
If they said no, he didn’t know what he would do.
He couldn’t be digging around in Saeryn’s history and looking for evidence of wrongdoing before his own physical and mental energy ran out, or before Saeryn attacked the humans again.
The chatter of other sentries behind him lowered into a dull roar.
“Okay, we will do it,” one sentry finally replied. “We will have information back to you by the turn of the tide.”
“I appreciate your time.” Kaden put a hand to his heart, and all the sentries and their trainer returned the gesture.
In the meantime, he could track down Aiereka and the citizens in their village. Perhaps, Cassia might hold secrets for her brother, as well.
Aiereka wasn’t in her bedchambers, or the dance or racing halls, and Kaden, fatigued from what felt like constant swimming this tidesday, looked in the last place she might be.
He found her in a study room with her tutor and she looked positively exhausted.
Dark circles hung beneath her eyes and she rubbed at them before stifling yawns.
Her tail grip was loose around the rocky protrusion beneath her and her posture was slumped.
Her tutor was still speaking to her, though Kaden couldn’t hear either of them through the glass pane.
How did she ever have time to herself?
Still, this was one of the scarce times he saw her, and he waited outside the room. High tide transitioned into low tide when she exited and their gazes locked. “Kaden? I didn’t expect to see you.”
“I came across you on low noontide and thought I’d stop by and catch up. I haven’t seen you much.”
“I’m sorry, I’m exhausted. Can our catchup wait?” She kicked her tail, but Kaden put a hand on her tailfins before she could glide past him.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Uh, sure, that should be fine.” Aiereka rubbed her eyes, and a pang of guilt struck Kaden. She needed to rest, and so did he, but he didn’t know when he would catch her again.
Kaden glanced at Aiereka’s tutor, still gathering materials in the study space. “It’s sensitive. Can we go somewhere a little more private?”
“We can go to my chambers.” Aiereka motioned for him to follow, and he did. “Just don’t mind the mess in there. I haven’t had the opportunity to reorganize my belongings since Father, and I moved in.” Once they were inside and the seaglass door slid shut, she urged him to continue.
“It’s fine. I wanted to ask about your father, and if he’s ever done anything, erm, unsavory?”
His cousin quirked a curious eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”
He hadn’t thought of an answer to that, and he racked his mind for a plausible explanation. “Mostly curious. I’m his high advisor, and I feel like I don’t know him beyond what he shows me.”
“Oh.” Aiereka’s lips parted, as if she were going to say more.
She appeared to decide against it when no more sound emerged, and she turned her head away.
“It’s late, and I really should be resting.
I’ll see you soon, okay?” She swam to the door and pulled it open; her body angled toward the entryway.
“Aiereka, what–?” Kaden stopped before he left her bedchambers. His shoulders and chest slumped. “I’ll see you another time, then.”
After muttering another goodbye, Aiereka slid the door shut. Kaden floated in place, his expression slackening.
What couldn’t she tell him?