“Hello, Selena,” the Naiad male said, his voice smooth, like a drop of aged whiskey, liquid smoke across the tongue.
“Hello, Aegir,” Selena answered. Her toes, curled into the sand, released themselves, and she straightened into her familiar graceful coolness.
“Why do you run from us?” His eyes slid to mine, and I became very aware of my naked body under my cloak and the fact that he’d seen it, even for just a moment. “You’ve been training this young Naiad here for several weeks now. Here, in our sea, without our permission. Without our consent. OurDomuswould have welcomed her, as she transitioned for the first time here, in our precious Venus waters. As is our right, as is merited by our laws. Laws you have broken. We could lay claim to her. But—” he stopped, lifting his chin in the sky, as if tasting the salty air on his palate. “Her blood is already soured by the claim of someone else. Tell me, little creature, what threat did Thaan of Safiro place upon you that made you believe your only option was to sign away your life with your own blood?”
His words echoed across the cliffs behind me, bouncing back to my ears in vibrating bursts, each softer than the one before.
He stared at me, and I realized he was actually waiting for my answer. He watched me with a different expression than the one he adopted for Selena. Patient, interested. Almost sorry. I tooka small step away, though I lengthened my spine and narrowed my eyes at him.
He tilted his head. “What is your name, creature?”
My mouth had gone dry.
The line of Naiads waited. Male and female Naiad alike, they watched with hardened expressions, their bare shoulders above the water, waiting for me to speak. Glancing sidelong at Selena, I waited for a cue.
Should I talk to him? What should I do?
Selena met my eyes for a moment, her burning intensity as vivid as ever. She gave the smallest nod.
“Maren,” I answered, my own voice echoing around the rocks.
“Maren,” he said, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. “A pretty name for a young Naiad.” Waves flooded over his feet, pulling the hem of his cloak towards the beach then stretching away, his cloak riding backwards with the water, exposing shapely calves and knees. An uncomfortable silence filled the air. I wasn’t sure what to say, or if I even wanted to speak to him.
“A waste,” he finally called, his eyes flicking back to Selena’s, who fiercely held his gaze. “We simply wanted an introduction. Continue your practice, young creature. So lovely to see you, Selena.”
He turned, entering the water slowly. The waves wrapped themselves around him, pulling him into an embrace. As if he were as much a part of the water as the water was of him, a crystal of salt dropping into the ocean and dissolving into it, unseen but ever present. The Naiads fell away, vanishing into their home beneath the surface, and all that was left was the soft crash of the waves.
36
“Did you know that would happen?” I asked. Too apprehensive to return to the water, we’d packed up our belongings, dressing ourselves over wet skin and hair, and trudged up the rocky trail to the carriage. The stride and incline helped relax me, giving my feet a laborious job to perform. My muscles were at home under the weight of the exercise, the initial sting of flesh and sinew settling into a refreshing burn.
“I anticipated it, yes,” Selena answered between breaths.
“I thought they were going to attack us,” I said, frowning sideways at her.
Selena was calculated, her thoughts planned and deliberate. It didn’t seem to fit that she’d walked us knowingly into a trap.
“They might have, but I didn’t think they would. Naiads are too curious to attack first and question later. They wanted to see you up close.” Selena said. She sighed loudly and stopped, arching her back, then sat on a large stone, her chest heaving from the climb. I sat next to her, placing the basket at our feet.
“They sent Thaan a letter, requesting an introduction to you, though it wasn’t truly a request. They do have the right. You took your first breath as a Naiad in their waters.” Leaning her head into the rock, thick strands of hair bristled around her face, sticking to her skin and waving in the breeze.
“But they can’t claim me for their colony, because I’ve already signed a contract with Thaan?” I asked slowly.
Selena lifted her head in quiet affirmation. “Naiad laws are not written on paper. They’re written in our blood. Yours belongs to Thaan.”
“What good does an introduction do, then?”
Selena sighed again. Sitting up, she combed her hair back with her fingers, collecting the damp strays and twisting them into submission at the base of her neck. “It does them some good. Now they know your name. They’ve looked you in the eye. Aegir could recognize you later. When you free yourself from your binds, he could find you and claim you. By then you’ll be married, but he doesn’t know that.”
When you free yourself from your binds.
We hadn’t approached the topic of my contract before. Royal etiquette, fashion, marriage, speech, reading, politics, diplomacy, swimming, diving, and transitioning made up all our conversations. But not my blood vow.
I watched the ocean. The sun was high. It was mid-day, and the heat fell over us in heavy layers. My hair, draped in a thick mess over my shoulder, dripped into the red dust at my feet. The rock absorbed the water, desperate and thirsty, smoothing into firm clay.
“Did you sign a contract with Thaan?” I asked. Selena didn’t answer, and I glanced across my shoulder at her, waiting.
Staring out over the water, Selena took another deep breath, holding the air inside her lungs, releasing it slowly.
