Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“You’ll look so beautiful,” Soley said, already bubbling over with eagerness.
I still had zero clue how to say nein to this woman. “It’s lovely. Of course I’ll wear it.”
Grinning wide, she gave a little squeal. “Oh, I’m so glad. Let’s get you ready for the game.”
For the next hour, we worked on my appearance, scrubbing me within an inch of my life, hydrating my skin with scented creams, styling my hair in elaborate plaits. As for the dress…
It fit like a dream, soft and perfectly molded to my lean curves, as if sewn just for me.
Either Sebastian had correctly guessed my measurements, or his informational dig went deeper than I’d realized.
“By the great abyss,” Soley said, pressing a hand to her heart. “You are… princess, I don’t think there are even words for beauty such as yours.”
Pleasure unfurled beneath my sternum. “What a nice thing to say.” Of my nine sisters, I was the lone flaxen-tressed, pale-skinned, blue-eyed sibling who resembled our great-grandmother. The others were either redheads, like our father, or brunettes, like our mother.
I twirled before my barre, watching myself in the mirror, surprised to find the skirt flowed with me, offering no resistance. So not just lovely, but functional. My preference. But what would Sebastian think?
Nervous tremors spread through my limbs. “What is Tideweave, exactly?”
“A game of movement and timing.” Her eyes glittered with excitement. “You’ll be in the royal garden and—”
A hard double rap sounded at the door, and I startled. Freyja, here to escort me?
“Don’t worry,” Soley rushed out. “Someone will explain before it starts. You’ll catch on quick, I’m sure of it.”
Yes, but how was I supposed to concentrate on learning a new game, or even the game itself, while also starting a fake courtship with Sebastian?
The walk to the gardens with Freyja was mercifully brief. Morning had arrived fully. The waters above the dome light and frothy, with faint currents carrying colorful fish. As we passed under an arched threshold, exiting the palace, the air changed, becoming cooler, saltier, blooming with the subtle glow of bioluminescence.
The royal garden unfurled before us. Coral hedges traced elegant paths. Anemones blushed in soft blues and greens, swaying despite the absence of a breeze. Floating orbs of light drifted lazily overhead, responding to movement and sound.
“What causes this?” I asked.
“The dome,” she answered as she did everything: efficiently, without elaboration.
Well okay then. One orb flickered, dimmed, then flared too bright before shattering into cold sparks. No one reacted. Either it was normal, or their discipline prevented them from showing fear. I, however, remained unsettled. Was the primordial somehow responsible?
Focus. At the center of the festivities was a circular dais of pale coral stone, etched with faintly glowing patterns. Shallow channels of luminous water traced its edge, pulsing in slow, rhythmic waves.
Servers carried trays of seaweed bites, octopus-shaped puff pastries, and black sesame crackers with squid-ink hummus and bubbly drinks.
The kraken upper crust already gathered, elegant and dangerous in equal measure, their murmurs blending with the whisper of water and light.
Like Sebastian’s, their irises shifted constantly, never settling on a single shade. Darkening with interest, brightening with amusement, storming when displeased.
Many wore coral rings that pulsed softly, shell-inlaid cuffs that moved as if alive, pendants that gleamed with inner light.
They stood too still. Watched too intently. And when they smiled, it was never reassurance but assessment. Dragons announced themselves. Laughter came easily. Flares of temper, even more so.
I should blend in well. But where was the king?
“I hope you have a wonderful time, Princess Bronwyn.” Freyja delivered the niceties with a total lack of emotion. She tapped her clipboard. “You’ll be here exactly two hours and then…”
I lost track of her speech as I scanned the various unfamiliar faces, searching for the object of my apprehension.
Then I felt him, my every cell coming alive. My gaze followed until… There. He stood across the garden, near the dais, hands clasped behind his back, posture relaxed in a way that was anything but casual. He wore dark attire, with no armor or weapons visible. His presence alone commanded the space. As before, he was gloved.
A shadowy aura outlined his muscular form, the gloom seeming to writhe, as agitated as the sea outside the dome.
When his gaze found mine, the world narrowed. An electric current rolled through my veins, a slow undertow that dragged through the rest of me.
His eyes smoldered, as if I’d set fire to his desire. His jaw flexed once. A breath drawn too slowly. I knew the feeling well, considering I experienced it myself. Then he inclined his head, just slightly.
Acknowledgment. I forgot how to breathe altogether.
The stunner next to him followed the line of his gaze, finding me. Her lips pursed. She whispered something to the person on her other side, who immediately looked my way.
In fact, everyone looked my way. Heads turned one after another. Give me a stage, an orchestra, and several hundred people watching my every move, and I was perfectly content. Audiences watched with anticipation, delight, and wonder. But these people studied with curiosity, calculation and speculation.