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Ophelia swirls away from the bookshelf to me. “I know. I’ll put on a ball to introduce you. Like we do for all mermaids when they come of age.”
“I... I don’t know about that. Would it be proper with the things going on with Nico?”
“Oh, I’ve got that handled.” She shakes her hand like it’s nothing. “We can make that go away. I’m a Drakos. A ball. That’s what we need. Especially for all those who didn’t get to the docking ceremony today. They’re going to love you.”
“I...” I start to say that I should check with Nico or at least her own son. But why? She’s making me believe mermaids have the true power here. If that’s true, I should be able to leave. “What if they don’t love me?” Because I’m wondering if that might be my plan to get out of here. But then I think of the males I’ve seen Nico drop for lesser reasons. And popping up in the ocean someplace would expose their society to others, if the battle in Boston hasn’t already. I need to test my hypothesis. But not with Ophelia. That’s too dangerous. And she seems so nice. Just like the type of mother I always wished I had. She loves her kids—all fifteen of them.
No, I have to get out of here.
“They are going to love you because I tell them to.” Her eyes flash, and I realize there is no crossing this woman. “Come along. We have a ball to plan. Plus, I’m sure you’re long overdue to get into some more comfortable shoes and clothes. Oh, and lunch. I’d forgotten completely about lunch.”
She snags my hand, and we go flying past Kai’s bedroom, or my bedroom, down the corridor. The doors open as she walks toward them with a swoosh. This new room houses a long table with ten males sitting at it I don’t recognize and three whom I met at the docking. I memorized their names and pictures. But I wasn’t given the names of those who weren’t attending. Thank goodness. The list was long enough as it was. All the males stand, their chairs moving silently on the marble floor. Most of them are in casual clothing, similar in style to the uniforms on the sub.
“These are some of my mates.”
They go around the table with their names and a simple wave. I follow along, unable to grasp half of them at the speed they go around.
“I’m Constantine. I hear you and Castor are going to feed my sharks tomorrow?”
I turn to Castor, who is sitting next to Constantine. “We are?”
“No, we are not.” He shakes his head. “I’ve saved you a seat here. Holter will return with his and Nico’s things.”
Another nod. I’m turning into a bobblehead doll. Taking my seat next to Castor, I notice the spread down the center of the table. Most of it is foreign to me. But then again, until I moved to Boston, I’d never tasted lobster or marshmallow fluff. One I like a heck of a lot better than the other.
The door swooshes open again before Ophelia can take a seat.
Nico stands there with Holter and a guard.
Ophelia points at the guard. “Oh, for the love of Poseidon, you can wait out in the lobby. Where is he even going to go?”
7
Nico
Not only am I confined to my dome, but a female who likes to assume a role I never gave her has taken charge once again. I hug Ophelia as long as I have to and let go. I know she means well, and she also has the power to help us.
Annabelle’s blue eyes are glued to me. I turn to her. She’s the light in the room.
“Here, you should sit next to your mate. Sit across the table, Castor.” Ophelia’s voice is clear.
Now this, I don’t mind. Seeing her herding him is funny, our future king being moved about by his mother. Yes, indeed. A soft smile comes to my lips, and I take the seat next to Annabelle. Holter has taken the seat across from her, and Castor is on my other side. I nod to the duchess’s mates around the room. They’re all staring. They want the news. But I want some of Augustine’s food. He’s a good cook, almost as good as Holter.
“Pass the hedged-tots,” I say before the duchess has even sat down. But if these are my last few weeks on the planet, I don’t need to be polite to a single Drakos. Not even Castor, who has always been the exception to the rule.
It’s Annabelle who puts her pale hand on top of mine before I can reach the platter. Damn, it was a good thing to have her prep for the ceremony, but now she knows all kinds of other things too. And I’m not going to get any of the stuff, not when it’s going to go down the long line of Ophelia’s mates. Constantine, knowing how much I like them, will take the last damn one.
Ophelia sits down at the head of the table. “Let’s have a new tradition today, shall we? Let’s start with Annabelle.”
“Oh. Thank you. But that’s not necessary.” Annabelle’s voice rises.
“Oh, but I insist.” Ophelia smiles and inclines her head to the plate, as if she can make it move without touching it.
Holter, being across from Annabelle, serves her some hedged-tots. Her eyes are big and round, and I can tell she has no idea what they are. Or how good they are. Everything Holter made her on the sub was human in origin. I slide my hand onto her leg. Her ballgown is gone, she’s wearing some leggings and a simple but stylish tunic. I lean over. “They are delicious. Like cheese rolls—no, fried cheese, I believe they’re called.”
She smiles and nods at Holter.
“The next two plates, take only tasting samples.” I say it softly, but I don’t whisper.
