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“Castor. Figures. He’s the king of spin.”
“The king,” I repeat because the double meaning is there.
“Yes, well. I hope so. He will be best for Doria, for Glyden. There’s a lot you need to know. Don’t let—”
A sliding panel on the flat side of the wall opens, revealing three backlit figures. It’s extremely dramatic for two people. Maybe there are others watching somewhere. Other than my classes with Bass, I haven’t seen any videos. No television or movies. No one is glued to their blocks, which are just phones.
The figures have long toga-like robes on, and they step into the room. They’re fairly close. The bright light behind them doesn’t block out their features. The shorter figure in the middle is a mermaid with braids around her head that make her appear as a Viking huntress lost in Ancient Greece. The male to the right has a crooked nose and pale white hair. The other one is salt and pepper.
Nico stands firm and unwavering, the chains around his hands and ankles. I push my shoulders back and, at the last moment, take hold of Nico’s hand.
“Nikolaos Portsmouth,” the pale-haired merman says. And it shakes me. Nico has my last name. “I am entrusted to lead the panel of judges who will decide your fate.” He nods to the mermaid in the middle, and when he does, I notice the shining silver strip down the front of his robe. He’s Seolfor.
“Your fate lies in one of four directions. Innocent, guilty with exile, retrial by governor, or guilty with death,” the mermaid says. She has a pink strip down her front, but so did the governor of Permula yesterday.
My stomach clenches, and I hope they can’t see my reaction.
“Do you agree with these terms?” the final judge asks, with a glare. He has a white strip outlined by two blue ones in the same position as the others. Diamont Dome.
How can Nico not? He’s the one shackled. The formality is beyond ridiculous, but rituals are what keep us moving, remembering things. That’s what my aunt always said. It’s why we pretended at Christmas to have a loving family when my uncle was terrorizing all of us.
“Your representation is your mate?” asks the white-haired judge.
“Yes.” Nico’s voice is firm. “Annabelle Portsmouth.”
“Arabel,” the mermaid corrects.
“No. Annabelle. My mate was human. Her name was added into the database and is waiting for approval.”
Judge Seolfor, on the end, glares. “It hasn’t gone through the complete process.” His neck is long and wrinkled. “You are the first female to join our nation. You are not the first human or shifter.” He motions to the Permula judge.
“You are the first human to transform into a mermaid. The laws of our nation with regard to this matter haven’t been tested.”
“Arabel. You aren’t on trial. But the consequences of this proceeding will undoubtedly affect you. And thus, we will question you as well.” Judge Diamont nods. “Let the questioning begin.”
Seolfor raises his right hand, but when I try to mimic his behavior, Nico grabs my wrist. I lock eyes with his amber ones. With the doors closed behind the judges, it’s so dim his pupils are dilated.
“Were you aware merpeople existed?” Seolfor asks.
“No.” I keep in mind Castor’s advice.
The Permula judge raises her hand. “Did Nikolaos ask you to mate?”
I think back to that night. It feels like forever ago. But also, no one asked me to tell the truth. But then the truth is always easier to remember, until it’s tarnished with a lie. “He asked me to bite him.” I didn’t. He bit me first, but he asked.
She raises her other hand. “And you did. Were you aware of what would happen?”
“I’ve read about shifters.” I suck my lips in. “I knew it would make us mates.”
Diamont raises his hand. “You had no understanding you would get a new form?”
“No.” I want to add lots of things, like I knew some things would happen, or that mating wasn’t the same as getting married. Or we were in the middle of a battle and he said I would find my true self. But Castor’s words echo in my head.
Seolfor has his hand up. “You have a mer form?”
“I can breathe underwater.” I’m hoping they don’t go further, but Seolfor raises his other hand.
“And you have a fluke?”
