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Her blue eyes fall on my face.
“What I did was wrong, but I don’t regret it. You are the best thing to ever happen to me. Not my nation. Me. I’ve never had a regret. But I do now. I wish you’d had a choice, my love.”
Tears well on her lashes, and she brushes our lips together, continuing the dance. She has learned so much in a short time, my mate. My heart is both full and empty at the same time. I don’t want to say goodbye. But I know that’s what it’s going to be. I stuff it down. Now is not the time for stewing about my future as a lost male, drifting. Alone again. My mate is in my arms, and I will keep her there as long as it’s the right thing.
23
Annabelle
Ophelia’s perfect smile is vicious at the judge—the old bat who made me want to practice my trident skills on him—standing next to her. The Seolfor judge doesn’t look happy, and it gives me hope for Nico’s freedom. I can’t think about what Nico said. It can’t change my decision. I still need to go home.
Nico’s arm tightens around my waist, and I whisper up at him, “You said the judges wouldn’t show themselves in public until they had a decision on your case.”
“Yes.” Nico takes us the opposite direction from the judges.
“But that’s the blobfish who was such a dick to me.”
Nico’s laugh vibrates on my neck, and he kisses my mate mark, causing a full body shiver to travel to my golden shoes. “Yes.”
“Is he going to say something now?”
“I would imagine so.”
“Aren’t you scared?” My stomach is trembling. “Because I am.”
“No, Annabelle. I’m not scared. I’m enjoying dancing with my mate.”
His amber eyes hold me. I don’t want to care. I really don’t. But when he said he was wrong, I felt it. He meant it, and I wonder what I would have done if he’d simply asked. Instead of snatching me from the dorm room.
He swirls me around the floor, and I almost don’t miss a step.
Then the dance is over, and the line of suitors come at me.
“I believe this is my dance,” a tall male says.
I shake my head. “I’m going to dance this one with my mate again.”
Nico smirks. “That’s not how this works, Little Krill, my love.”
“But...” I cock my head toward the blubber-faced judges.
“I know... but it’s still not how it works.” He hands me off to the other male.
The music starts, and my new dance partner, Hugo, takes my hand. I have no idea what this dance is or how it goes. It’s not one of the ones I learned. I step on his toes at least four times as we round the hall. I crane my neck to see what’s going on at the dais. The judge is still talking to Ophelia. I can’t concentrate on anything but that. When the last judge walks in wearing a fire-red gown, my heart pounds inside my painted-on dress. Ophelia is almost showing her annoyance now. She bows her head to one of her mates, who’s standing next to the orchestra. My throat is squeezing shut.
Hugo blabs on about pearl culturing and how lovely a strand of pearls would complement my skin tone. I reach up to touch the necklace that Eros gave me, but it’s gone. Panic stirs through me. Ophelia’s is there. I scan the dance floor, but I can’t see it. It doesn’t matter.
I continue to nod at what might be the appropriate times for what Hugo is saying. But I don’t really care at this point. I don’t want another mate. I didn’t want the one I had. Now that he might be gone, I don’t want Nico to go. He called me his love. I’m not sure I am. But I’m not sure I’m not.
Hugo glides me to some semblance of a stop, and the next guy tries to take my arm. But Castor steps in. Tall and lanky bows to Castor and slips away. The music doesn’t begin again. Instead, a trident staff thumps three times on the dais, and the judges step up to the balcony railing.
“Mermaids and mermen.” The Permula judge glares at me like I’m neither. “As by law, the announcement of the ruling against Nico Portsmouth is hereby proclaimed.”
He holds his tablet up in front of his frog face like he wasn’t one of the ones to decide Nico’s fate. I search the room for Nico’s dark hair, but I can’t find him. At last, I see him standing in the corner of the room by the door, two guards on either side. Not a good sign.
“One vote for execution,” the judge croaks. And I have no doubt who that was from. “Two votes for exile. Nico Portsmouth, you are to be exiled immediately to the great chasm. May Poseidon be the guardian of your soul.”
“No!” I cry out, and the guards take Nico’s arms.
