Ignoring the throb in my thumb, I focused on my blood. Sidra’s instruction was vague, but as soon as the vibrant crimson appeared, I somehow knew what to do. Like summoning water, but deeper. Thicker. A harder ebb and flow that came from within me. I whispered my vows into written word, and they appeared, separating the smear into tiny lines and curves.
One. I, Maren of Leihani, consent that I am bound by the promises I make in my life-blood, here within this contract.
Two. I will not repeat the contents of this contract to any person or Naiad.
Three. I consent to a betrothal between myself and Nikolaos Laurier of Calder for the duration of three years, at which time, the engagement will dissolve.
Four. I will attend private lessons to strengthen my Naiad skills. I will not speak about these lessons to anyone not expressly involved in them, even my betrothed. If I try to speak, I acknowledge my voice will be lost, and no sound will leave my lips.
Five. I will not willingly admit my Naiad heritage to anyone who doesn’t know who I am, for it is against Naiad law to do so. If I speak the words, my voice will be lost. If I physically expose my Naiadic nature, the life of the human I reveal myself to will be forfeited.
Six. I promise to make my lessons my priority. I will work tirelessly to increase my skills in Naiad transition, water manipulation, and human incantment. I will learn and perform the customs of Naiad culture when appropriate, while identifying the sophisticated practices of royal life and adapting my personality to the demands of a future princess.
Seven. I agree, upon the given order, at a date and time to be determined, that I will assist and carry out the death of Prince Hadrian of Calder, heir to the throne.
Amendment: This contract will remain in effect until I am queen. I understand the consequences for breaching this contract are imprisonment or death.
Sidra read the lines of my arm with cool indifference, but as she released her gentle grasp on my hand and floated back to her side of the pool, a triumphant smile shadowed her pink mouth. The words began to fade, and I read them again, committing them to memory. I made a note to write them in my journal later.
Gazing at me, the elderly Naiad reclined into the wall of the pool. “I was born a Naiad child in the waters of the Parian Sea, near what is now called Cressi. I was the third daughter of theVidere, the unpreferred choice for an heir to ourSiliqua Domus—not that my father planned to deliver his title to his firstborn. He was a youngViderehimself and went on to hold the head of the colony for four generations. But I was aPrizivac Vode, a royal descendant of his blood, all the same.
“Some weeks before my eighteenth birthday, aViderefrom the Juile Sea came to visit.” She tilted her head with calculation, ensuring I paid attention to her words. “In those days, it was known as the Safiro Sea.”
58
Maren
My mouth parted, words echoing in my ears.
Tell me, little creature, what threat did Thaan of Safiro place on you that made you believe your only option was to sign away your life with your own blood?
Sidra’s eyes trickled over me as she lifted her chin, a proud queen unwilling to accept judgment. “The SafiroViderewas handsome and polite. He took an interest in me. All Naiads are selective of their mates, much more than any human. Humans fall in and out of love as quickly as the changing moons. Naiads do not have that flexibility.
“AVidereis even more discriminating than the average Naiad. We have more to consider than who to mate with for the remainder of our lives. We live for centuries, and we assume the responsibility of our people, which means we need to hoard every strength and skill we can. So, aViderewill only choose anotherPrizivac Vodefor their mate, one who will also be blessed with long life and added strength upon taking blood offerings from their colony. And the one who visited chose me.
“Naiads don’t bother with things like dowries and negotiations. It was enough for my father that his blood would go on to begin a new line ofPrizivac Vodesin another colony. So, Icordaedto him. Thaan of Safiro.”
“And you came here,” I said.
“He had been born here, in the Safiro Sea. He held a love for sea life. For all life. He taught me how to heal a torn fin or mend a cracked shell. How to cultivate the forests of coral and kelp. And, when a creature was past the point of healing, how to let them pass on.
“We had a daughter, Leibra. We tended to the oceans. The waters of Safiro were warm and beautiful, and I loved every creature to be found, raising life and bonding myself to the sea. The island of Nahli was close enough that I befriended the humans there. It was not unheard of, back then, for a Naiad to walk the beaches alongside humans. Like any creature in the sea, I considered the islanders my subjects. But Thaan took a special interest in the people who lived upon the sand.
“He thought that given the right amount of influence, he could control the islanders. Could use them to his advantage. TheVidereof the Venusian Sea had finally grown old, even with all the blood offerings of hisDomus, his life was running short. He selected his grandson as his successor.”
“Aegir,” I guessed.
Sidra shook her head. “Aegir’s great grandfather, Aethir.”
“Great-grandfather,” I repeated softly. “That would make you hundreds of years old.”
“Close to one thousand,” Sidra said, a tight smile on her lips. “Aegir himself is quite young for aVidere. He’s been alive only half a century.”
I sat back against the pool wall, suddenly feeling like one of the grain mills I used to see while riding in the carriage with Selena to the beach. Endlessly churning in a river, only able to graze thesurface layer of water while the answers lay hidden in the murky bottom.
“Thaan believed that he could use the vulnerability of Aethir’s station to claim the Venusian Sea as his own. Those two were always so hopeful to invade theSiliqua Domusof the other. And Thaan thought he could use humans to do so. By gaining their trust,incantingthem, leading them to their deaths below the sea by giving them Naiad air. They were grunts to him. Means to an end, and ourDomusbecame divided as the male Naiads of Safiro agreed with his plan while the females withdrew.
“We watched, day after day, as ourcordaedmates left the ocean, walking on land, fishing with human islanders, dining with them, sleeping in their houses and sharing their stories. We tended to the sea, as was our given duty, and they abandoned us, little by little, to gain the confidence ofmen.”
