Page 62 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

Gasps echo as the spiraling current tightens, drawing every strand of smoke inward. The magic surges, funneling straight into the emerald hilts. The lights above flicker as the last of the magic vanishes, and the blades glow faintly in my grasp.

The perturbation around us lingers for only a breath. The one I expected to panic the most, however, doesn't. Sarah stands before me, her gaze wide with awe, her expression filled with wonder as she watches me complete the protection spell.

“The spell is complete. These daggers are now enchanted to protect you. If the day ever comes where you are defending the crown or are taken hostage, know this—these daggers cannot be turned against you. They exist to shield you and will never cause you harm.”

I lower myself into a half-bow to finalize the ceremony.

“Sarah, do you accept these daggers as your own? Do you promise to use them in defense of Virellan Kingdom? And do you swear to guard them as you would guard yourself, for as long as they serve your purpose?”

“I do,” she replies. I see her lips quiver as the words leave her mouth, her nerves unbridled within her.

“Then it is with great honor that I, King Orion of Virellan, grant you these daggers for the bravery, wit, and strength you displayed in your wielding duel.”

Sarah accepts the daggers from my hands. When I lift my gaze, her smile radiates, stealing the light from the chamber. I gesture lightly with my finger, prompting her to bow in return as thanks. She does so, and when she rises, I whisper for her to face the crowd behind her.

She might not be a natural at this, but in due time, she will be; her beauty only strengthening the image she presents. No one questions it. Yet I notice Duke Seren slip away in silence, leaving without a single word of congratulations.

Nyx and I will need to summon him soon to address his recent opinions on how I rule my kingdom.

Zevrin and Nyx remain side by side as I glide down to where Sarah is, still facing the crowd. She secures her daggers into two smooth, sea-silvered lengths of hand-carved driftwood, each tapered to fit its blade. Strips of kelp, braided into an intricate, vest-like lattice, bind the twin sheaths in place. The weave hugs her torso before crossing her shoulders and wrapping snugly around her back.

We are quickly surrounded by the royal advisors and remaining nobles. Several offer celebratory remarks to Sarah. She answers with a simple nod, her anxiety revealed in the way she clasps her hands behind her back, fingers interlocking until they whiten from the pressure.

I don't linger long with anyone, as another event awaits us in only a few hours at tide’s dawn, and final preparations remain incomplete. I pause briefly when I spot Sarah in conversation with Naeryss, our healer and leader of Coravaluné. Her bright and effervescent nature shines through as she speaks with enthusiasm about how well Sarah has adapted since her arrival.

“My apologies for interrupting, Lady Naeryss. Sarah, I must depart to finish preparations for our Wave Rite. Nyx will escort you to your chambers, and then to the event when the time comes. if you'll excuse me.”

Sarah simply inclines her head, and Naeryss continues speaking.

I depart, trusting that Sarah is in good hands.

twenty-five

Orion

Final preparations for the Wave Rite did not take long, and upon my arrival, it appears the festivities have already begun. Tidelets dart about, their gifts most likely held by their guardians. Subjects converse freely, enjoying beverages and delicacies meant for the occasion. Small finger foods, light enough to sustain without overwhelming. Tonight is not about us. Tonight is about Mother Ocean and what we give back to her.

This year is special. This year, she gave me Sarah. Losing my father was hard, and that year I had nothing to give. Now I have so much.

As I draw closer to the celebration, the announcement of my arrival silences the gathering.

“Please, continue. Tonight I'm an equal, just like you. Enjoy the festivities.” My voice carries with excitement unlike any I have felt in some time. At once, the merriment resumes.

I continue forward, scanning the crowd, in search of two familiar faces, yet I find none. I turn to the Sentinels following close behind. “Is there any word on the attendance of General Nyxalene?”

They glance at one another but remain silent. My heart pounds faster as unease sets in. She and her charge were to arrive before me.

“Find them,” I command. Both guards depart, and I press deeper into the audience, still searching as I make my way toward the channels where we present our offerings.

I'm only a few feet from my destination when I spot Lord Zevrin. My eyes widen in disbelief when I notice who stands behind him. Sarah’s opponent, Defymin.

“Your majesty, great ceremony tonight for the land-dweller, Sarah. She looked graceful,” says Lord Zevrin.

“Yes, she did. Have you by chance seen her or my general?” I ask.

“No, my apologies, I have not. I departed from the ceremony shortly after you. I had to gather Defymin from Coravaluné so we could attend the festivities tonight.”

“Ah yes, your injury. How are you doing, young finling?” I ask, turning to Defymin, my patience running thin. I don't want to seem rude. Sarah did wreck his fin up pretty badly. But honestly, I don't care.