Page 23 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, but stay quiet. I watch him from the corner of my eye. “She doesn’t like me,” I say finally, soft but matter-of-fact.

“She does not like anyone she does not trust.”

“Comforting,” I mutter. I continue to poke at the dish in front of me with a fork made from a metal I am unfamiliar with. “So, when do I relinquish these powers? I would like to return home and have my life back.”

“At the start of the new sea day,” he states dryly, as if there is no room for argument. “I am in desperate need of a rest after swimming that far with you in my arms.”

“So you expect me to sleep here?”

“I will have the guards make up a room.”

I tilt my head to the side, eyes moving up to his. “Right.” I continue fiddling with the utensils, halfway through an eye roll before his commanding voice pulls my attention back, and he calls out to a guard.

They enter the room, but say nothing. An army of few words.

“Have a room made up for her. And use the crystals for the windows, please.”

The guard calmly nods at Orion and bows before exiting.

He returns to his meal, spearing a piece of crab from the plate. He brings it to his mouth slowly, placing the food inside, licking his lips carefully. “I can feel your stares, Snapdragon.”

I quickly look away, focusing on eating some of my own meal, deciding to finally try and place a bite in my mouth. My first attempt was unsuccessful as most of the filling tumbled back into the shell.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, but the irritation in my tone doesn’t waver. My second attempt is slower and more successful. As I chew, I lift my brows and widen my eyes. “Oh. That’s actually . . . really good. Different, but good.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I expected fishy sludge. Or slime. Or, I don’t know, something from a bad sushi bar?”

He blinks at me. “A what?”

“Let’s just say it’s a place on land where they pretend they know how to prepare raw sea creatures,” I say, laughing lightly.

His eyes widen at my statement. “And humans pay for this?”

“More than we should.” I take another bite. “Though to be fair, we don’t usually eat food served out of still-smoldering crab shells.”

“That is the best part,” he says, his eyes brightening a bit from excitement. “The shells retain the heat, keeping it warm until the last bite.”

“How does cooking even work down here?” I ask, suddenly aware the food is actually scorching hot.

“The palace kitchens use heated stone slabs,” he explains. “Volcanic stone that holds heat for hours. Most of our meals are placed inside a shell while they cook so the heat doesn’t char the meat.”

I nod, chewing carefully. “That’s actually smart. I’ll give you that.”

He doesn’t respond after that, and neither do I, but something about his silence feels different.

I need to get rid of these powers and return home as soon as possible.

The meal ends not long after Orion rises from his chair, gesturing for me to follow. "I'll escort you to your quarters."

The corridor is quiet as we move upward along the spiral platform I noticed earlier. I trail slowly behind him. The marilume veins covering the ceiling dim, probably marking the night hours, their glow now a soft, pale yellow that casts slow-moving shadows through the dark blue water.

Neither of us speaks. The water around us hums with a faint tension, though his movements remain fluid.

At the top of the spiral, the passage levels out into a short corridor. Only two doors are marked along the walls, each directly across from the other.

I slow down as Orion stops at the doors on the left, resting a hand on the shellstone frame. “This is yours,” he says. “It is close. In case anything happens.”