Return to Atlantis: a Fantasy Romance (Kingdom in the Sea Book 1)

by Vivienne Savage

  “Tell Daddy I miss him.”

  “Tell him yourself.”

  “What?” Kai glanced past her mother’s shoulder into the bearded face of her father, standing tall and proud a few feet to Ianthe’s rear with a trident in hand. He looked more regal in person than he did in his statues, ruddy skin weathered from the sun and green eyes bright.

  “I’m proud of you, Kailani. We’ve been there with you every step of the way and always shall be. Through each struggle and every accomplishment, we are always at your side. How I wish we had a few moments longer. But our time is nearly up here. We must go.”

  “No! I can…I can go with you. I want to go where you are going.”

  “No.” A sad smile flitted across his lips. “You cannot. Where we go is a plane for heroes. For the warriors slain in battle and dreamers who gave their lives for better days. One day you will join us. But not now. It isn’t yet your time. Until then, we count on you to defend Atlantis as we once did for centuries.”

  “But…I’ve only just gotten to know you.”

  “Our time is past and now the future is yours. Claim it, my dear daughter, and continue to make us proud. But I’ve come to bear a warning to you.” His shoulders moved with a deep breath. “What they do with you now is not your true purpose. They fail to see your value; they smother you. You must claim what is yours. For the good of Atlantis, you must retake the kingdom and become the queen you were meant to be.”

  “But I don’t know how. I don’t even—I don’t know where to begin.”

  The two mers exchanged a brief glance before her mother spoke. “Begin with what your heart tells you. You sense the changes we left incomplete, the changes that are needed across the kingdom. We were not guaranteed tomorrow, and now you have learned, neither are you.”

  “Learn from our mistakes. Do not take tomorrow or even today for granted. Not one hour, nor a minute. Each second is precious and valuable, whether it is a moment to learn or a chance to act. Trust in yourself, as we trust in you, to do what is right.”

  Why did it hurt so much?

  She drew in a ragged breath and her shoulders shook, but then his strong arm curved around her waist and drew her near, cradling her between both of them the way she remembered them holding her as a child.

  The way they’d hugged her before Commander Malie spirited her away from the battle and they hung back to cover their rear. Memories slammed into her mind with the force of a tempest, and she recalled the last time she saw her parents, her mother and father holding back the forces of hundreds of Gloombeasts to ensure her escape. They’d given their lives to guarantee she’d live, fighting an impossible battle.

  And she could not let them down.

  31

  Hope Flows Eternal

  In the end, Manu did leave the palace to shower and freshen. Amerin wanted to bathe the princess and change her clothes, so in the interest of maintaining Kai’s dignity, he left. He returned to find both women where he’d left them, with the addition of Aegaeon in Manu’s seat, leaning forward with his chin propped on both thumbs, fingers steepled over his nose. He looked older. Worn. Faint creases had become canyons, and deep purple crescents smudged under his eyes. He clearly hadn’t slept either.

  “Any change?”

  “None,” Aegaeon replied, leaning back in his seat. “The poison is neither advancing nor receding. Vitalis believes that to be a favorable sign.”

  Manu swallowed the hard knot in his throat and stepped closer. “What’s the verdict out there, my lord?”

  “They’re biding their time. Lago’s on his way to the palace now to weigh in. It’s split at the moment, but his vote is critical to—”

  “What in the name of Styx is happening here?” Lago bellowed, voice thundering across the suite’s walls as he stormed into the room. “What is this farce?”

  And so died any hope Manu had of a peaceful evening at Kai’s side.

  Aegaeon rose from his chair. “We’re standing vigil over the princess, Lago.”

  “Why has she not been put out of her misery? These are our rules—our laws. You put the safety of all Atlantis at jeopardy by allowing her to live. You don’t know what she could become, the power that could be created from her divine blood and Calypso’s curse.” He strode forward, extending the haft of his shortened trident to its full length. “This isn’t a matter for a fucking vote and you know it,” the mer growled.

  Then shit became real, because Aegaeon drew his trident, too. Aegaeon, who had only three decades, if even that, of combat experience against his father’s centuries. Lago, their brilliant strategist—their strongest mer and most powerful combatant to ever lead all the forces of Atlantis—only cocked a brow before his features went harder and colder than an arctic glacier.

  “You have no chance of stopping me, Aegaeon. Out of respect for you and the office you hold, I won’t take this as a challenge, but I have come here for one thing, and one thing alone.”

  Aegaeon stood taller. “Unless I’m mistaken, I’m the regent and you follow my commands.”

  Lago’s cheeks flushed fuchsia. “Your power is granted to you by the Council of Lords as an interim ruler. You’re no king. Don’t pretend to be. Your days in the throne room may be coming to an end, considering the number of lords I encountered in the palace halls begging me to put an end to your madness.”

  Tension rippled down Aegaeon’s spine. “Lago, please. If you ever considered me a friend, hear us out.”

  “It isn’t about friendship,” the older mer murmured in a quieter voice, losing some of his steam. “This dream of ours, it was merely that—a dream. She was never prepared and could never be what this kingdom needed.” He cut a hard look at Manu, blame broiling in his eyes. “As those under my leadership have failed so thoroughly, I’ll be the one to—”

  Manu maneuvered between his father and the foot of Kai’s bed. Aegaeon made a micro-adjustment in position, and Amerin fled the room just as she’d promised she would, footfalls echoing down the corridor. “I can’t let you do this. I won’t allow you to hurt her.”

  “That’s insubordination.” A low scoff barked from his father’s throat.

  “It’s doing my duty. I swore to protect Princess Kailani, heir to the Atlantian throne. And I will protect her, even if it’s from you.”

  Lago’s fingers tightened, knuckles a bloodless white. “Stand aside.”

  “No.”

  Cosmas burst into the room, still grimacing in pain, the size and number of his bruises creating a watercolor splash of indigo from his right pec to his waist. He clutched his ribs with one arm while Amerin squeezed into the doorway to support him from the other side. “What’s happening here?”

  “I am correcting Commander Manu and Regent Aegaeon’s oversight,” Lago said. “Return to your bed, Commander. There’s nothing here I want you to see.”

  “In that case,” Cosmas murmured, peeling away from Amerin to stand beside Manu, “it is also my oversight.”

  Rage distorted Lago’s expression, twisting his features into a mask of anger. “Both of you dare to defy me on a matter of Atlantian law? You forget your places in our society.”

  “I’ve forgotten nothing,” Manu said. “My place is between you and Kailani, General. I can’t allow you to hurt her.”

  “As is mine,” Cosmas agreed.

  “And mine,” Aegaeon said, revealing more steel in his spine than Manu thought possible from the high mer.

  When Lago took a menacing step, trident poised for the attack, Manu slid before him. Their tridents clashed and prongs locked together, enchantment-enhanced steel against steel. Sparks flew up and electricity arced between the tips of Lago’s weapon. “Move aside, son.”

  Son. How many years had passed since his father had last shown him an ounce of affection or love, or anything that wasn’t mountain-high expectation, a demand for physical perfection and absolute obedience; to be as flawless as a mer of the warrior class could be?

  Not since the week b
efore his mother’s disappearance and presumed death.

  “No. I can’t. If you want to kill her, you’ll have to take my life as well.”

  Manu locked gazes with his father and endured a silence heavier than a blue whale. After what felt like a lifetime, Lago growled and spun before storming from the room. His retreating footsteps echoed down the hall.

  And then there was only peace. Blessed peace and four souls who had been ready to die for a woman who might never recover.

  Manu watched her decline from that point forward. It had been a foolish, childish wish to believe a mer born from divine blood could resist the effect of the Gloom. Part of him had hoped her relationship to the primordial goddess of the sea would provide a greater resistance and save her.

  Reality wasn’t so kind.

  Their vigil continued into the night. Though he and Aegaeon stepped outside to allow the healers and Amerin time to perform their duties, one of them always stayed at her side, never leaving Kai unattended, distrusting anyone—even the palace healers—with the princess’s safety.

  The toxin spread. At first, it had been only a blue puckered wound located on her upper chest, padded by poultices. Later, it spread tendrils of violet toward her throat. He watched her breaths grow erratic while sweat glistened on her brow.

  He and Amerin took turns bathing her forehead. While Aegaeon met with the Council of Lords to hold the final vote that would determine whether he died this evening in her defense or lived to fight another day, Manu wrung a cool cloth out over a bowl of water infused with a few drops of the golden liquid kept at Thalassa’s altar.

  He didn’t know if it helped. He didn’t believe in gods anymore.

  But Kai certainly had. And that was enough for him to follow Hipponax’s guidance.

  “I know some part of you is there, Kai,” he murmured, leaning close. “I know you’re not gone yet. As long as your heart is beating, I’ll do whatever I can to protect you.”

  Because at some point during their journey together through weeks of training, through an unusual friendship, against the odds, he’d fallen for her.

  And he didn’t know if he could crawl out of the deep, bleak hole she’d leave behind if she died.

  “I need you to return to us. Not only for this kingdom. But for me. You’re my biggest regret. Not because I failed you in providing instruction, in making you a warrior—I didn’t fail at that. You did become a warrior. You’re just and compassionate and everything Atlantis needs, the only mer to hold a candle to the legacy your mother and father left behind.”

  All he had were hopes and prayers, and even those seemed flimsy. Sighing, he fell back into the seat and dropped his head, wondering.

  Even if he had taken her to bed, they would have only had the one night. And one night with Kai could never be enough.

  He remained that way for a while, fighting sleep and ignoring his body, occasionally drowsing, only to stir at the sound of her clear and even breaths.

  Clear and even breaths.

  Manu jerked up in his seat and blinked at her, at the time, noticing two hours more had passed. The blue veins crawling over her chest had retreated, and only the raw, angry puncture remained beneath the crust left behind by the most recent application of ointment.

  He bolted to the door, Vitalis’s name on his lips. His fingers had just grazed the knob when sheets rustled behind him.

  “Manu?”

  With his heart in his throat, Manu turned to find his princess sitting upright in bed, watching him with wide eyes. The pallor previously clinging to her cheeks had turned rosy and she was flush with health. Warm and alive again.

  “You’re awake,” he breathed, desperately wanting to kiss her until his soul no longer burned.

  “I am. And everything has never seemed clearer.” Kai touched her chest where the ray’s barb pierced her. “Manu?”

  “Yes, Your Highness?” he asked, moving to her bedside again.

  “We need to speak soon. Not now. But soon. Right this minute, though, I need you to tell me everything I’ve missed.”

  So he told her. Every word, from Aegaeon’s loyalty to his own father’s decree that she die.

  Afterward, Kai swung her legs over the side of the bed and shakily rose. “Do one last thing for me?”

  “Anything, Your Highness.”

  “Tell Amerin I need clothes. Find my uncle and tell him I have one request: gather everyone of importance to Atlantis for a meeting in the Chamber of Heroes. Let him know I said to tell them, not ask. I have an announcement to make.”

  32

  Currents of Change

  It was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.

  For all the time Kai had spent in Atlantis, she’d learned they were a rigid people with a culture steeped in tradition, but their traditions had done little to protect them over the years. Instead, it hindered their growth.

  They’d retrieved her from the human world to be their queen then inflicted an outdated system upon her.

  They claimed to be better than humankind but treated their weakest citizens like dirt.

  They asked for a ruler but saw her as a child.

  To Kai, the answer to all of their troubles seemed simple.

  “Your Highness, are you certain of this?” Hipponax asked, licking his lips nervously. “Perhaps you should still be in bed recovering.”

  “She should definitely be in bed recovering,” Vitalis said in his high, nasal voice. “Though I understand her reasoning and intentions, I disapprove of her making this step so soon after escaping certain death. Your Highness, I beg you to reconsider. For your health.” Everything about his pleading voice struck her as genuine. Vitalis was a good man. The same could be said of Hipponax, who radiated fear and worry, not condescension.

  “No. I need to do this. It’s mine. This is the reason I was brought back to Atlantis.”

  For months, she’d listened to her elders and obeyed their commands, following their instructions and assuming they knew what was best for Atlantis, but if they’d known, Helike and Fare wouldn’t be watery burial grounds. Had they known what was best for the kingdom, the Gloom wouldn’t have reached their kingdom’s doorstep.

  Kai reached out and grasped the scepter. The moment she touched it, radiant light exploded from the gemstone, warmth washing over the Chamber of Heroes until every statue came alive with golden light. It slid neatly from the statue’s grip and pulsed with what she could only describe as acceptance. Glowing approval.

  “This is mine. It belonged to my mother before me, and hers before her.”

  Waiting for the men who had tried to control her, Kai traced her thumb over the glossy jewel. It reacted to her touch, gleaming brighter—more eagerly—as if it had waited for her all along and bided its time, if an inanimate object could do such a thing.

  As the great doors opened, her heart pounded into hyperdrive, drumming faster than a mako shark pursuing its prey. A commotion broke out as expected, bickering between Royal Guardsmen and irritable high mer. Her uncle moved at the forefront of the group alongside Lago, Loto, Manu, and other familiar faces of the Myrmidon forces—save for Cosmas, who she’d been adamant would have to stay in bed. He’d taken a beating out there in the fields.

  Worse than she did. To protect her.

  “What is this about? Last we were told, the princess was dying,” one of the council lords declared, wearing a sour look on his weathered face. The rest of his peers appeared equally resentful. All save two kind faces in the crowd.

  “Our princess stands right before us,” Manu said sternly. “I advise you ask her yourself, Lord Fridericus.”

  Ah. Lord Fridericus senior. His son had been an asshole with an asshole name, and now she knew from where he’d inherited it. Blowhole was too kind a term for mers like them.

  A second mer stepped forward, dispassionate and scowling features telling Kai he would have cheerfully lopped off her head. “I will happily ask. How are you standing here now when I saw you on y
our deathbed?”

  “Deception!” Lady Nammu cried. “I saw her as well and stand in complete agreement with Aeschylus. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but this child was covered by the Gloom’s taint only hours ago. Perhaps it is a scheme, and they seek to deceive us, to conceal that she has turned.”

  Aegaeon whirled to face his wife, but the healer beat him to the response.

  “It grew worse before we saw improvement, Lady Nammu,” Vitalis said in his even-tempered voice. “But I can assure you, all signs of her infection are gone. As a healer, it is against my code to allow such vile artifice in my name. In my healing house. What you see is our Princess Kailani, alive, thriving, and deserving our respect.”

  “What respect has she earned?” asked a man with sapphire hair and a regal bearing.

  Aegaeon shot the man a dirty look, his expression speaking volumes. “All of it. Especially since she nearly died saving your son’s life.”

  The mer blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I meant what I said, but that is a discussion to delay until another time. Kai, what is the meaning of this? Gods know I’m thrilled to see you’re alive. I don’t even know where to begin but…” His gaze drifted to the glowing scepter in her hands. “I haven’t seen it shine this way in years.”

  “Twenty-five years to be exact, Uncle.”

  He nodded.

  “I asked Manu to gather Atlantis’s decision-makers for a reason. Is this everyone?”

  “Every single mer,” he replied, stepping aside and sweeping his hand in a broad gesture toward the committee of twenty-five nobles, in addition to their military and religious leaders, the group of them talking amongst themselves, bickering like children instead of the kingdom’s great advisers.