Page 4 of Taken By the Crab King of Atlantis

Everyone has embarrassing fantasies, but I’m careful about not indulging this side of myself too much. I could never do anything like that in real life. I’ve seen what indulging temptation has done to my sister. That’s not me, and it’s not why I’m selling my virginity to a stranger. I know enough about the world to know fantasies aren’t real, but money is.

So it doesn’t matter what Karkinos looks like. Right?

2

KARKINOS

“You look like you want to strike them with a lightning bolt,” Kilandra says, eyes narrowed at my attempted polite smile.

My expression falls into a more familiar grimace. “And that’s not allowed?”

“It might put a dent in our attempts at diplomacy.” Her Oceania accent is clipped and stern, but a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, and her antennae wave in amusement. Strands of white streak the blue of my advisor’s hair, and crows’ feet creep around her eyes.

She’s seated in one of the two office chairs facing my desk, between dark wooden walls lined with books. A modern computer and monitor are the only nods to contemporary decor, apart from a child’s green plastic table and chairs in the corner.

“Grandpa!” My office door cracks open, and a familiar grinning face with twin red plaits runs towards me.

I push my chair back and she jumps into my lap, wriggling to get comfortable. The grimace melts from my face, and my antennae crane towards her. The weight of the day feels lighter with her in my arms.

“Oof,” I say, rocking back and pretending that her slight weight has bowled me over. “You’re getting big. What are you doing here, Marina?” I brush a tangle of red hair back from her face, feeling the nubs of antennae growing under my hands.

“Wanted to see you get ready for the dipp-mats.”

“Diplomats,” I correct, loosening the tie Kilandra insisted I wear for this afternoon’s meetings. Even with expert tailoring, business attire feels strangling with my physique.

“Hmm, maybe Marina should go with you,” Kilandra says, eyes considering. “She reduces your ‘vengeful god’ vibe significantly.”

I ignore her and look out the picture window to my right, taking in the sight of the city I rule, and the deep blue of the ocean beyond the dome that encloses it. Modern skyscrapers soar in glass and steel nearby, but in the distance, cracks line the walls of older, abandoned buildings.

Atlantis is no longer what it was.

“Have you chosen a sacrifice, my lord?” Kilanda’s voice brings me back to the room.

On the top of a neat stack of papers in my in-tray beside me is an image of a dark-haired girl. She’s beautiful. But that’s not the point. My gaze slides from the image to a framed photo of Marina sitting on my lap, both of us in formal attire. Beside it sits a spiral shell, worn smooth from handling over the years.

“The one on top will be fine,” I say, handing the stack of papers to Kilandra over my desk.

Her eyes widen. I’ve been delaying this decision for weeks. She stands to take the papers, but doesn’t sit back down. She glances at the image of the girl. “You’ve read her profile?” She asks.

“I’ve read them all, as is my duty. But if you doubt my taste…” I bend down to speak to my granddaughter. “What do you think of this girl, Marina?” My eyebrows raise at Kilandra until she shows Marina the photo.

“She’s pretty,” Marina says. “And she looks clever.”

“Done,” I say.

Kilandra’s expression drips disapproval, but she takes the papers back. “She’s from the surface.”

“Is there a problem with that?”

“Of course not, my lord.”

“Well, then… the Zodiac Association already have my choice. I trust you’ll make arrangements from this end.”

“Of course, my lord.”

“Owie,” Marina interrupts, holding up a finger to me with a small splinter of wood sticking out of it.

Her face is crinkled with pain, but there are no tears yet.