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Veneratia. Fuck. I didn’t invite my family. Did I forget? Yes. I didn’t invite any of them. I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do to my parents. But then, maybe they don’t know I’m here today? That’s laughable.
I glance up. I was in the gallery last year, watching Nole. It’s oddly empty up there, though. Maybe I’m not the only one who has forgotten about it this year. But then I spot Eros. He inclines his head at me. Of course, he’s here for his brother. I twist my neck to the vacant throne. Atlas’s empty side of the balcony taunts us all. It makes me even more convinced that the other domes won’t accept another unmated king. Still, it’s odd his parents aren’t here. Did he forget like me?
“We went months, almost three quarters of a year, without the king present. We can move on without him this day,” the Koralli governor says. Ovid Septimus’s face scrunches back into his neck.
Shouts ring down from the observation deck. “We want the king.”
A gavel bangs. “We wait for Atlas. He is king,” says Pilar Tiberius, Seolfor’s governor. She nods and glares around the chamber.
There are rounds of sighs from grown males. Michio, Eros’s brother, is the only one standing with his shoulders back. I catch his eye. He has the same shape of face as Eros. They really look like brothers. I’ve never thought about it before. I wonder if people look at Nole, Soren, and me the same way. In a way, I almost feel like I look more like Milo, my youngest geminae brother. Geminae from the egg and sperm donor are never to be placed back in the same dome. They’ll never know who their genetic parents are. But then, when I look at Milo, I wonder if my mother played by the rules. She likes it when others play by the rules, but she does have a way of breaking them or bending them for her own benefit. I’m not that type of male... except perhaps in business.
Pilar Tiberius slaps her hand on the podium in front of her. The Seolfor governor needs to be heard. Seolfors are needy that way. The Seolfor are one of the four original domes, yet they are the one that is forgotten the most. At least, that’s the way Glyden thinks of them. They’re neither good nor bad. Chaotic neutral, if you will. “I will repeat myself for those who are too busy to listen. We will wait for the king. He might have something of worth to say.”
“Hear, hear,” I add. Because he really might have something good to say and he’s friends with Nico. It might get me some points. Also, I do believe Atlas can help get Marina back. He’s been a bit of a lobster trap, running off to the war with the Vikings, trying to get a peace treaty when he’d never been a military male before. I should be more up to date on what he was able to accomplish. As of yet, no one knows. We’ve all been focused on things here at home: Annabelle, the blast in the Glyden lobby. Heck, even Nico returning with Poseidon’s trident. But that’s the thing with being a good leader: you have to keep track of it all and yet be able to focus on the details too.
I feel eyes burning into my side, and when I turn, I find the Braesen governor. Haden Moretti stares at me. I’ve never had a problem with Braesen. They’re dedicated to their animals, both real and animatronic.
Tristan Bellucci, Vitrom governor, is scowling as well. But that’s not unusual. I would imagine it’s since I’m not Nole and they have to know that I am the intended candidate for Glyden’s round as king. I will be able to change how policies and laws go into effect. I give him a nod, and he turns his head quickly.
“There’s no need to wait for the damn fool,” says Tristan.
“No need?” Atlas’s voice booms through the chamber. He shakes his head at Tristan. Atlas and Nico should never have been close friends. They’re too much alike. Reactive. Honestly, I don’t know what is going on with him, but I know Atlas needs a mate if the rest of his time as king is going to be worth anything. And it can’t be Annabelle.
Atlas stands taller than the normal Dorian. His waist is far above the railing that should keep him safe. His hair is long and slicked back. He peers at the governors, ignoring the citizens on the balcony across from him.
Now it’s my turn to arch an eyebrow back at Atlas. Atlas walks along the balcony until he’s standing above and behind me, putting his weight in the Glyden corner. It also gives me the right to speak first, after him. This favor won’t go unremembered. It’s a move that happens often. The current king lets the dome of the next king have some power ahead of time in order to be relevant for a few years after. Being out of power for almost thirty years at a time can make a dome feel weak. Not Glyden, though. Never Glyden. Our gold makes us stronger and wealthier than the rest.
Atlas raises his hand for the governors to settle. He looks each governor in the eyes. “What they say is correct. I’ve been away for too long. But I’ve been in the chamber since I returned. There was something I needed to attend to.” Atlas leans over the railing. It’s intimidating, and I don’t scare easily. To face Atlas, I have to turn my back to the rest of the governors.
“What could be more important than your duties to the governing council?” Ovid says.
Atlas arches an eyebrow. “I don’t need to answer that, but I will. Just not yet.” He leans over the railing. “First, we will talk about the chasm, and then we will move to the agenda.”
Damn, this isn’t how I wanted this to go. If we’re going to get Marina, we should act quickly.
“That’s not on the agenda,” Pilar, next to me, says.
“Enough. You haven’t had to abide by my rule. You want a king, and now you will have one. I say we are talking about the chasm, we will talk about the chasm.”
I cock my head at him. The chasm?
Atlas continues. “As stated in the security bylaws, a new trident to replace the one found by Zaffiro was to have been inserted. But I’ve searched the logbooks. When the Zaffiro came back, he kept his trident. An unimpressive item.” Atlas hits a button on his block, turning the floor in the middle of the dome into a screen. “Here he is with it. It’s nothing like the one Nico Portsmouth came back with. This one looks like debris found on the ocean floor. Who in this room was here at that time? Or even remembers that time?”
He’s talking to Haden Moretti, the only governor who has served ten consecutive terms. The Braesen governor shakes his head when all eyes focus on him.
Atlas clears his throat. “Exactly. It is ages before us. Ages forgotten. For ages, we have sent males to the chasm, searching for something that the record shows wasn’t there.”
“Are you saying Nico Portsmouth committed fraud?”
“No, I’m saying that Alaric of Zaffiro thought he brought back the trident. But what he brought back was refuse from the bottom of the ocean. Waste. Nico isn’t the second Poseidon. He is the only Poseidon. And those present during that time knew that another trident hadn’t been placed. They—you—have sent mermen to the chasm looking for something they believed wasn’t there. That is the crime of the former and current governors.” Gasps fill the room. “Now that the trident has been retrieved, we will need to reset another trident.”
“Who will undertake such a foolhardy mission?” someone shouts from above, and all heads turn.
“There are solo-eating Krakens in the chasm. It’s too dangerous,” another shouts.
“Diamont will craft a new trident, and I will place it.” The king slaps his knee.
He’s not like Nico; he is Nico. My stomach flips over. Does he have an actual death wish?
