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Chapter 15
Ican’t stop shaking. If I had knees, they’d be knocking together. My uncle is on the other side of the door. I squeeze the arm of the chair in the royal waiting room and fight the panic. Tiberias can kill me if he wants. Could throw me in jail, have me beaten. Anything. He’s alive, and despite my dad’s protests, that means he’s the true king. He can do whatever he wants, and I’m the daughter of the man who tried to kill him.
Middlebrooks nudges me. “You’d better not let your uncle see how terrified you are. Stand tall and let him know you won’t be pushed around. You’re a force to be reckoned with. Don’t forget you’re the new Queen Sirena.”
I give her a double-take. “You really think so?”
“Of course. And it’s perfect because your father needs all the help he can get. Once you master your trident, you’ll be the most powerful of all the merpeople. Why do you think I’ve placed you against Zayn Landon? You need to be able to beat the toughest opponent if you’re going to stand up against your father’s opposition. And for the time being, that means your uncle.”
My heart thunders. “But I’m not ready for that.”
“Clearly, but you can’t let him know that. So, pull yourself together.”
“Okay.” I swallow. Choke on the water I’m breathing.
Middlebrooks rolls her eyes. “You call that pulling yourself together?”
I recover and glare at her. “You’re not the one Tiberias called in. My father attempted to assassinate him, left him for dead, then took over his throne. He probably thinks I’m behind all that too! Why else would he want to talk to me? He’s going to throw me in jail. I don’t want to go to prison! I won’t survive a moment. They’ll eat me alive!”
She smacks me across the face.
I hold my cheek and stare at her. “You just hit me.”
“Because you sound like a lunatic!” She glowers at me. “You’re heir to the throne. Start acting like it! Your uncle can’t take that away from you. Go in there like you own the place—because you do. He can’t touch you.”
The door opens.
I pee myself. Literally. Luckily, we’re in the water and nobody seems to notice.
A servant inches out from the room and looks at me. “The king is ready for you.”
My stomach lurches. Ties itself in knots. The merman is going to decapitate me, I just know it. He won’t be able to separate me from my father. He’ll see us as one and the same.
“Rise,” the servant orders me.
Middlebrooks shoves me.
I’d glare at the both of them if I had it in me at the moment. But the fact that I could potentially never leave the room I’m about to enter makes my stomach lurch again. I gag, just about to throw up everything in my stomach, which thankfully isn’t much.
“Come.” The servant nods.
I do as I’m told, and my mind races. Was Tiberias genuine the other day when he gave me a hug? Or was that out of duty, or worse, a show to get me to lower my defenses around him? How could he be happy to see the daughter of the person who tried to kill him?
The servant opens the door and motions for me to enter. My stomach lurches again, but I manage to hold myself together. I go in so slowly, earning a scowl from Middlebrooks when I glance back at her.
The room is like an office—an office with a lot of gold items everywhere. My uncle is busy writing something from the other side of a massive desk. He doesn’t look up at first, which makes my stomach lurch some more. I don’t gag at least. Hopefully I can keep myself together.
He glances up. “Have a seat, Marra. I need to finish this. It’ll only take a minute.”
I nod, unable to find my voice, then sit across from him and glance around. There are several photos of him with my dad growing up. One is at their academy graduation with my grandfather—their dad. In the picture, my dad doesn’t look happy. Or is that Tiberias? It’s always so hard to tell them apart since they’re identical.
My uncle looks up and sets his pen down. He studies me. I do my best not to fidget. It’s too hard, and I end up playing with a nail. His expression doesn’t tell me what he’s thinking. What he might say.
Finally, he speaks. “How’s your mother?”
I swallow, trying to ignore my churning stomach. “I don’t know. She wasn’t happy when Dad banished her.”
“When did that happen?”
