9. Monsters of the Deep | Lyra
Lyra had entered the council chamber by accident as a small child. She had been pretending to be a goddess lying on top of the Ennosidas mural on the throne room floor.
The tiny tiles were cold as they pressed into her spine and her palm as she gripped the imaginary trident.
One of her tutors had caught her and threatened to whip her with a rod.
Naturally, she had fled. Lyra had sought sanctuary here.
It had been a mistake.
She hated this room.
Glowing crystals hung like ominous blades from the ceiling. She had been terrified that breathing too hard would send one of them cascading down and through the top of her skull.
It didn’t help that they were colossal, making her appear minuscule in comparison.
The chamber was circular, broken apart by seven expertly carved columns. Each column depicted a creature of the sea.
The crystals cast an ambient glow upon the three closest columns: a mermaid, a merman, and a kelpie.
Hidden in darkness at the back of the room were the four remaining columns. A shiver walked down her spine at the memory of them.
They were nightmares incarnate, the absolute most terrifying creatures the sea had to offer.
They were what mortals feared in dark waters, what mothers whispered to children to keep them in line, and what lurked in the abyss of the deepest trenches.
But from the recesses of her mind, Lyra knew every detail of the monsters that were carved there.
In the middle was a sea witch. Her talon-tipped fingers as long as Lyra’s arms. She had the most severe expression and eyes that followed you wherever you stood in the room, despite being stone.
Beside her was a sea dragon with scales carved in such impeccable detail you could feel the water cut around them as if it darted through the water. Its mouth was stretched wide open, jaws pulled back and readying to eviscerate its prey.
The water demon was an ancient monster so horrifying that she originally thought it might have been the Leviathan.
But when she had spied the curled horns and the webbed fingers, she had breathed a sigh of relief before a raw and primal scream had spilt from her lips, coming straight from her chest when she flicked her attention to the next pillar.
The Leviathan stood beside the water demon.
It was just as her father had described it.
A massive creature with a serpentine body and teeth as long as her entire body. Sharp spines made a ring around its massive skull like a crown.
The scream unfortunately aided her capture.
She had screamed so loudly her tutor had been able to find her and drag her back to her studies with an annoyingly long lecture on duty and keeping silent.
But with the passing of time, and the life she had lived, the carvings didn’t scare her as much anymore.
They were still rather uncomfortable to look upon, but Lyra knew there were worse things out there.
Unfortunately, the princes gathered in the room were part of her newfound fear.
Lyra’s heart thumped swiftly as the five princes studied her with keen precision. They had gathered in a semicircle in front of her and Drystan.
There was so much power in this room that she found her chin rising in response.
It was as silent as a tomb, adding to the hostility she knew she would face.
To the far left was Caspian—Marmoris’ husband—and the Prince of Huron looked exactly as she had remembered him. His long white hair floated behind him, and the dark navy of his tail was nearly invisible in the shadows.
He lowered his chin at Drystan before turning his inquisitive blue eyes to Lyra. They widened slightly, the white growing around the blue.
“King Drystan,” Prince Caspian addressed him. “I hadn’t realized you were bringing her into the council chambers.”
It was common knowledge that mermaids weren’t permitted in here.
But Lyra had assumed they knew she was coming by the way Drystan had spoken.
There were wedding plans to address, and surely they would be curious about any information they could gather from her time on land.
Drystan brushed a hand over her lower back and cast baleful eyes at the Prince of Huron.
“Why ever not? It’s such a joyous occasion.” He set his gaze upon the room, addressing all the princes. “Surely the bride would want to be a part of the plans.”
Lyra pursed her lips to keep from reacting negatively to his words. Joyous plans. Bride.
He was really trying to sell this arrangement as anything other than a power play that would secure his seat on the throne.
“Your bride doesn’t appear to agree,” Caspian replied with a stiff wave in her direction.
She relaxed her lips, holding her face still as Drystan’s eyes raked across her face.
Dread settled like a weight in her stomach. She thought she had been concealed at his side.
She should have known better.
“Lyra,” Drystan drawled, leaning away to better see her. “You have been ordered to appear before the council to aid in the arrangements for our wedding.” She felt his eyes like fingers prodding and poking at her face for a reaction. “Shall we begin?”
Lyra faced the council.
Each prince appeared to be waiting for her response. “I can make this meeting super short then,” she sucked in a breath. “There won’t be a wedding.”
Other than Drystan’s annoyed huff, silence greeted her statement. She made it a point to keep her chin held high.
Lyra told herself this was no different from facing the High King after her kidnapping, and she would treat it the same way.
After that meeting, she had walked away, confined to the constraints of a bargain.
Would it end differently this time?
A figure shifted closer to the center, and Lyra turned to stare at him. It was Rigel, the Prince of Pavlopetri, her sister Thalassa’s husband.
“I believe we should discuss the details of her kidnapping,” Rigel shifted his attention from Drystan to Lyra, “before discussing a wedding she is adamant will no longer take place.”
A pensive expression pinched his face, but his remark had been tinged with humor.
The rich-tan color of his skin was lovely against his pearl-colored tail. He too had forgone any sort of armor.
Actually, most of them appeared bare-chested. Pavlopetri was a neutral territory.
It was no surprise that he didn’t feel the need for added protection.
Lyra had always wanted to travel to his territory, to set eyes on the plants that resembled trees.
She didn't find that she wanted to travel there nearly as badly now that she had seen actual trees on land.
Rigel’s iridescent, pearl-colored tail flicked quickly as he whipped his head around the room incredulously.
A merman with impressive muscles and an amber tail clicked his tongue—Ishmael, the Prince of Naguni, husband to her sister, Nerida.
“I disagree. I think the more pressing information is her denial of our king.”
Lir, who floated between Caspian and Rigel, nodded in agreement. That was not a shock.
Her refusal to Drystan was probably the most incredible thing they had ever heard. It simply wasn’t done.
A mermaid didn’t have the right to refuse.
It annoyed her. She clenched her teeth, trying to staunch the vitriol she wanted to spew from her lips about the despicable nature of their ways.
But it would do no good.
She’d be better off arguing with a wall.
The logic was slow to win favor with her mind.
“It was against my will that the agreement was struck in the first place. Surely, my feelings on this matter come as no surprise.”
Rigel’s amusement grew as his lips twitched and he hid them behind a brush of his fingers.
But it was a soft chuckle that drew all her attention.
It came from her right, from Adamaris. The prince of Zeal.
A sort of friendliness softened his eyes when they met hers. His olive skin reminded Lyra of the Wilds, as did the kindness that radiated from him.
The reflection of his tail’s turquoise scales cast the surrounding water in a near-silver glow.
It eased some of the tightness in Lyra’s chest. She hadn’t realized just how nervous she truly was.
Somehow the hooks of this place had pierced her mind, making her feel overlooked and undervalued.
Lyra hadn’t felt that way on land, and she wasn’t sure when her feelings had started to change here.
Hadrian crept closer to the center of the circle. His was yet another familiar face that relaxed her mounting unease.
He looked just as he had on the day of his wedding. Dark hair and soft laugh lines. Hadrian shared a look with Rigel before they turned their attention to Drystan.
It appeared they were waiting for their king to respond to this lunacy, or rather, they were waiting to see his feelings on the matter before they made up their own minds.
Lir’s deep, agitated voice rumbled through the council room. “That engagement has been in place since your birth, was it not?”
Lyra had expected a more violent outburst to her refusal, and instead, a coy game was playing out in front of her. She was not accustomed to this kind of maneuvering, except with her father.
But no matter how much he toyed with her, his reasoning, and therefore his goals, remained unchanged.
Here she was uncertain of the rules of engagement, or rather, the goals of each prince, and how they played to their advantage.
She was hesitant to answer Lir, so she glanced sidelong at Drystan for some kind of tell, and found his gaze fixed on her.
He was leaving the answer up to her?
Lyra sighed before answering truthfully.
“You are correct. But I fail to see what the timeline has to do with anything? I have never wanted to marry him, and I want to even less so now.”
“Now?” Hadrian pressed. “You mean now that he is king and has overthrown your father?”
“No—” Lyra spat, annoyed. “Now that I know it was him behind my kidnapping!”
The words slipped from her lips so carelessly that they didn’t land their blow immediately.
“Are you making a joke?” Lir asked, his eyes widening as his voice climbed. “Are you accusing the King of orchestrating your kidnapping?”