6. Soren
Chapter six
Soren
I twirl the trident in my hand, savoring the familiar shift of its weight as it slices through the water. Muted light catches its three whitesteel tips. The sun filters from the surface above, casting a dance of light across the sandy seabed. The coral walls of the training arena curve up, forming a bowl in the sharp barrier.
Ten pairs of mermen square off in the arena. Their muscled tails stir the water as they hover in place, assessing each other, weapons poised. At the bark of a commanding officer, they charge one another. The clang of metal weapons weaves a steady rhythm, lulling me into a sense of calm. I relax my gills and tighten my grip on my own trident.
“Are you ready, Your Highness, or are we going to admire your fancy fork all evening?” Nara says.
I laugh, gripping the trident more tightly. “It is rather beautiful, is it not?”
The mermaid smirks, angling her own trident with the practiced ease of the kingdom’s best military captain. “I’ve seen better.”
If any other subject spoke to me that way, they’d lose their tongue. But Nara is different—a lifelong friend, and the closest I’ll ever have to a sibling. We’ve known each other since we were mewling guppies exploring the reef—her sneaking into places she shouldn’t be, me sneaking out of places I shouldn’t leave, and the both of us getting into too much trouble for my mother’s liking.
Nara stirs the water with her tail, her white-tipped tendrils disturbing a crowd of bubbles. The pattern of white and maroon stripes continues up her tail to cover every inch of her skin, wrapping around her stomach, the bulge of her muscled arms, the thick strands of her neck. Her red hair ties in a tight, efficient knot on top of her head. Nara watches me with large, round eyes, unblinking. The maroon irises focus with intensity, no doubt analyzing every twitch of my muscles and shift of my scales, just as I do for her.
With a flick of my tail, I attack, swinging my trident. Nara lifts hers to meet mine with a dull clash. She presses against my weapon, knocking me off balance. I swim back a pace, adjusting my grip and refocusing my aim. But Nara is quick. She wastes no time, stabbing at my open side. When the tines brush the bare skin of my chest, she withdraws.
“Contact,” she says. “Your Highness is off his game this evening.”
My gills flutter in irritation. “Again.” I lift my trident and reassume my position. My mind is restless—too restless. I’m eager to find the sweet rhythm of exertion, swinging my trident again and again. The more we stop to talk, the longer it’ll take to get me out of my head.
She quirks her mouth knowingly. “Eager to meet your new queenie?”
I roll my shoulders, and the tension eases for a moment. My body is wound tight like a lyre, ready to snap.
“Something like that,” I say.
“You have a few days yet to cry about it. My squadron leaves bright and early tomorrow morning, and it’ll be three days before we bring her home.”
“Do me a favor? If she’s a complete nightmare, just leave her there.”
Nara laughs. The practicing soldiers turn to look in her direction, their faces bewildered and longing. As if the males could change her gender preference with an intense enough ogle.
“Oy!” I shout at them, and they avert their eyes.
She smirks. “Can’t leave her, sorry. Orders from the queen and all.”
“A prince can dream.” I point my trident at her. “Again.”
She wiggles her eyebrows, ignoring my request. “If you don’t like her, be sure to introduce her to me personally before you send her back to the Abyss. I’ve heard the dark-dwellers are a prickly lot, and I wouldn’t mind expanding my repertoire.”
“She’s a magic-wielding royal. She won’t be prickly.”
She frowns, running a hand over her hair. “That’s a shame.”
Taking advantage of her distraction, I bring my trident down. Nara lifts hers without flinching.
“You think you have a choice?” she chides. “Even if she does have spines?”
We take turns striking, and I push my advantage, backing her toward the crowd of fighting pairs behind us. The sounds of our spar blend with the clash of metal from the other soldiers, the noise ricocheting off the curved walls of the arena.
“This is my choice. I need to secure a queen.”
She ducks my hit, then darts around me. Before I can twist to face her, her trident’s tines graze the skin of my back.
“Contact. And you’re a terrible liar.”
“This is my choice,” I repeat, louder, as if raising my voice might make it true. The words seem hollow, regardless of how many times I utter them. Nara lifts an eyebrow. “Again,” I growl, launching into another attack.
The clash of whitesteel ripples through the water, and we fall into our easy rhythm at last. My muscles heat and my body slowly begins to unwind, settling into the comfortable pattern of movement. Even then, she easily overpowers me. With her decades of practice in body-movement fighting, I’m still burdened by my habitual reliance on magic. Most magic-wielders don’t train in the arts of hand-to-fin combat, relying solely on their control of the Voice. But as the crown prince and sole heir to the Coral Throne, it’s my duty to be better. To master myself in every way possible. I will be worthy of the throne when it’s mine. I’ve worked my entire life to make sure of it.
But when Nara lands the tenth hit, I lose my resolve. She swings at me, and I tap into the energy that swirls in my gut, letting out a quiet tune. Dark green magic bursts from my lips, and I grasp Nara’s trident with my tendrils of sound, yanking her off balance to land a hit to her stomach.
“Contact,” I say.
“Where’s your honor?” She shakes her head, the corner of her mouth curling in a smile.
“I have none,” I say, mirroring her smirk.
“That’s your worst lie yet today.” She sheathes her trident in the holster between her shoulder blades and crosses her arms. “Hey, you okay?”
“Have to be.”
She grimaces. “Well, you know where to find me.”
“Good trip tomorrow? I hope the Intercurrent doesn’t give you too much trouble.”
“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” She jerks a thumb over her shoulder, indicating a crowd of guards sparring in the fighting rings. “I’ve gotta get back. Try not to shrivel up in your sandcastle till I get back, eh? Touch some water once or twice.” Humor sparkles in her eyes.
I dip my head. Already, my mind feels clearer. Sharper. My muscles are smooth and warm, the soreness of the day leaking out slowly into the water. “Aye aye, Captain.”