1. Tidal Tithe #2
To stop herself from laughing and brushing against that thread of power, Lyra studied her nails and then exhaled. She hated engagements like this and wanted to flee this place. Her tail swished and shimmered from pale lavender to light green.
She loved her tail, loved how powerful and graceful she could streak through the water and to the sanctuary of the reef.
The slamming of King Auris’s trident brought her out of her daydreams. He struck it two more times, and the sound brought forth immediate silence from the crowd.
“Tidal Tithe is upon us!” His voice boomed throughout the room.
It rattled the crystal champagne glasses spread across tables, the glasses bewitched to keep the champagne inside, and the tower of vials set up for the rite.
“To honor the ancestors before us and the mighty Ennosidas, our blessed thirteen maidens head to the surface this evening. I know they will do each of us proud.” He threw Lyra a sneer masked as an adoring smile.
She stifled a snort. Her selection as a maiden was guaranteed as the daughter of the king, but the others had entered a lottery.
Though it wasn’t truly a lottery. They had all bought their way in, just as Lyra had won through nepotism.
“As always, each maiden must sacrifice a heart by first light. Fail, and you will be cursed to walk the land forever. Choose any mortal you wish—man, woman, or child. But not royalty.”
A hush fell over the crowd before the murmurings began.
His eyes scanned the hall, falling onto the two mermaids who scuttled in late, Seraphina and Marina, the closest things Lyra had to friends. They were night and day. Seraphina was the epitome of the day. Fair hair, fair skin, pale eyes. Marina was the night. Black hair, umber skin, and dark eyes.
“Under no circumstances,” the king continued, “may you engage with any elf you see on land. And if they realize what you are—Ennosidas have mercy on your soul.”
With that foreboding warning and a final strike of his trident, the speech ended.
Lyra rose from her small driftwood chair, trying her best to float out of his line of sight without him realizing she was gone.
“Do not deviate from the two marked paths,” he said, not once taking his eyes off the crowd in front of him.
The maidens swam single file to the golden table set up with amber vials.
One small vial and your tail splits in two, and legs emerge.
Lyra had heard it was excruciating, but no one had ever refused to take part.
She halted, squeezing her lips together over her razor-sharp teeth. “Of course.”
“Of course, what?”
“Of course, Father,” she drew out each syllable as she raised her chin.
The only bit of defiance she could muster.
He came closer, grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger so he could lower it. Lyra locked her muscles in place to keep herself from trembling. His eyes beseeched hers, and it was an effort to weather that gaze.
“My favorite daughter, things will be better soon,” he whispered.
It had been a long-standing promise. That those “things” would be better.
At first, the promise had meant more independence or more books, but now it rang hollow. Nothing would change. He would continue ordering, demanding her obedience like he did to all the others in his realm.
A throat clearing nearby halted the tension bubbling between them.
Drystan waited beside the throne, bowing low in supplication. His emerald-green tail flicked with impatience.
“King Auris,” Drystan crooned with forced respect. “Might I have a moment with my intended before she goes topside?”
His leering smile set Lyra’s teeth on edge. His coiffed golden hair didn’t ripple at all in the current, and the dimple in his chin would be the perfect place for her to pierce through his skull with her favorite dagger.
“Of course,” the king replied, gesturing with a smirk. “She’s all yours.”
All yours.
As if she were property to be bought and owned. Lyra’s shoulders rose imperceptibly at the arrogance of it all. She was not property, a bartered womb for the taking.
No—she was the ocean.
Unattainable, unruly, and vast.
Drystan didn’t wait before seizing her arm and dragging her behind a pillar.
“Ouch,” she mumbled as he tightened his grip.
He pinched the freshly healed skin on the inside of her arm. The damage he had caused. If she hadn’t been ordered to murder him on their wedding night, she would have attempted it then.
“You are not to make a fool of me tonight.”
His chest, broad and gleaming, pressed into her. His cologne—heavy with musk and sea jelly—sickened her.
“Why must everyone say the same thing to me?”
“Because you’re not known to behave.” Drystan reached for her chin like her father had done.
Lyra snapped her teeth in close proximity to his fingers. Barely missing biting them off his hand.
“Point proven,” he chuckled.
“I’ve had enough of this conversation.”
She spun, heading towards the dwindling line of maidens plucking the remaining vials, but Drystan grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her body against his. The feel of his scales against hers had her jaws snapping shut to staunch the bile that surged up the back of her throat.
Drystan leaned in close. “I will skin you alive, scale by glittering scale, if you even think about staying topside. You will return to me and be my wife.”
Lyra tugged against his hold. The sting of her hair being ripped from her scalp was nothing compared to swallowing down her words and letting him treat her with such disrespect.
Drystan let go.
“Are you an imbecile? I don’t belong on the surface.” Lyra’s chest heaved, and her eyes pierced him with the promise of retribution.
His gaze slid from the strands of hair still tucked in his fist to her face. “You belong to me, and you will come to love me—as much, or perhaps even more, than I love you.”
“You’re not capable of loving anyone but yourself.”
He smiled, tracing a fingertip from her temple to her lips. “I know that if I can’t have you—no one can. Is that not love?”
She swatted his hand away, and he gripped it, squeezing her fingers. Lyra felt her knuckles crack before he kissed each finger tenderly.
“You deserve to be loved just as violently as is your nature, Lyra. Let your monster out so that I may worship her.”
Her breath hitched, and the gold thread around her heart flared.
Long ago, Lyra had yearned for love. A folly that had since turned to silt on the seabed floor. Now, all she knew was rage. She was so very close to showing Drystan who she was and ripping his heart from his chest.
“There you are!” Marina called. “It’s time. Let’s go!”
She thrust a vial of amber liquid into Lyra’s hand before tugging her along, not once sparing a look in Drystan’s direction.
Marina’s jet black hair, like a pile of nets upon her head, bobbed as she led them briskly towards the exit and after the maidens who had already begun heading for the trails.
“You’re going to get yourself dragged back to the castle again if you keep running your mouth,” she murmured.
Lyra threw a glance over her shoulder to see Drystan staring after her. He winked, and she bit her tongue to keep from cursing him. She couldn’t wait to end his life.