Serena sighed dreamily and touched her sore, smiling cheeks with her fingertips.
“I’m going to marry Triton,” she said, shaking her head as if it couldn’t possibly be true.
“You’re going to be queen,” said Moira.
The ceremony was in the bright and vibrantly colorful coral reef. Fish of all shapes, sizes, and colors peeked out of their homes to watch. Everyone in Adamar who could come surrounded the ceremony from every angle, forming a multicolored dome of tails. Moira gave Serena away. Casius sat in the front, resting on a large sponge, and at one point, Serena caught him rubbing an eye with a tentacle.
Triton said his vows first, holding Serena’s right hand in his and looking deep into her eyes. “To have and to hold.” The love she saw there could be nothing but genuine. Right? Her left hand snuck up to her collar bone to fidget with the locket. “For richer or poorer.” What if he never really loves me? What if he finds out what I did to him, to his parents? “In sickness and in health.” With one final, almighty effort, she shoved the guilt aside. She had him, and she would keep him, and she would love him well, and that was that. She had done what she had to, and she would do it again. He’s mine now, and I deserve him, and I’m not letting him go. “‘Til death do us part.”
Serena’s hand fell away from the locket so that Triton could slip the wedding band made of pearl on her finger. She said her own vows with confidence and joy. She and Triton interlocked their left hands on top of their clasped right hands. The priest pointed the Trident at their hands. This part was supposed to be the king’s job. They both said “I do” in unison, and a golden, glowing chain burst from the tip of the Trident and wrapped around their joined hands. The chain glowed brighter and brighter until Serena almost had to shut her eyes, and then the chain burst apart into glittering fireworks.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Despite the passion of the kiss, the locket thrummed on just the same.
After the wedding, Triton and Serena were whisked off to the throne room for their joint coronation. They stood on the throne pedestal together and swore the oaths to protect and provide for the people of Adamar, to share their city peacefully with other sea creatures, and to wield the power of the Trident in the name of justice. Triton’s chief advisor, an old merman named Malik who had served at Poseidon’s side, presented him with the Trident. It glowed when he wrapped his hand around it for the first time. Malik then rested the golden crown, created by the Trident itself, on his head. The gold was shaped into thick points all around his head. Malik then fixed the much more delicate, silver crown onto Serena’s head. The silver was thin and impossibly shiny. Three thin spikes like castle spires stood up from the band in the front, the middle one taller than other two.
The throne room was crammed with citizens. It was a first-come-first-served ceremony, and merpeople were still trying to shove their way into the doors. It seemed that the merpeople of Adamar were desperate to ease their grief and fear at the sudden loss of their king and queen by bringing in their new king and queen with more excitement, happiness, and vigor than ever before. Finally, things were going to be normal again, perhaps even better—they were all fond of Triton and hoped that perhaps he would prove to be a greater king than his father, though none of them dared say those exact words out loud.
“Citizens of Adamar,” shouted Malik with a flourish of his hands, “I now present to you, King Triton and Queen Serena! May their reign be long and prosperous!”
— — —
Hazel’s laugh was sweet and childlike as she flopped herself down on her new bed of lush sea grass nestled in a giant clam shell. She lay back with her hands behind her head, lifting up her tail and flicking it back and forth.
“It’s so soft,” she said with a sigh of content.
“I’m glad you like it,” said Serena. Her smile had hardly left her face since her wedding a week earlier.
“I love it! My own bed in the palace.”
“Well don’t wet it,” said Moira with a condescending roll of her eyes.
Hazel’s happily flipping tail flopped down on the bed. Serena scowled at her mother. Moira raised her chin and appraised her oldest daughter with narrowed eyes. Hazel watched with dread and curiosity as the two mermaids sized each other up and weighed the consequences of fighting verses backing down. To Hazel’s utter surprise, Moira lowered her chin, put a small, somewhat reluctant smile on her face, and said, “It suits you, Hazel. We’re all finally getting what we deserve.”
Serena’s smile returned.
“How’re things in here?” said Casius, appearing tentacles first in the doorway, his voice a little tense, having overheard the whole exchange.
Serena looked to Hazel, who said, “Wonderful. Look at my new bed, Casius.”
Casius’ voice hinted at the relieved smile he could not show when he said, “Yes, it’s quite lovely, Hazel.”
“And the sea grass grows from a garden made in the bottom, so I don’t have to put a preservation spell on it or switch out the dead grass for fresh or anything like that.”
“Even if the grass did need to be replaced, you don’t have to do anything for yourself now, Hazel,” said Moira. “Remember that. We are royalty now.”
“Technically, Serena is the only royal here,” said Casius, a smirk in his voice. Though he respected Moira, Casius was not altogether fond of her, and he liked to push her buttons because he knew if she wanted to stay on Serena’s good side (which was imperative if she wanted to remain in the palace) she could do nothing to him. Moira slanted her eyes in a furious glare but bit her tongue. Serena eyed the two of them nervously.
“That reminds me,” said Serena. “I’ve been wanting to speak to all of you together. You aren’t just going to be beloved, welcome guests here in the palace. Mother, I would like to make you my chief advisor, and Casius and Hazel, I would like you two to be advisors also. You’ll have official titles, and you’ll be involved in all the decisions I make as queen. You will also work alongside Triton and his advisors. That is, if you would like to accept the positions.”
“Of course, darling,” said Moira, a sly, crooked smile slanting along one cheek. Serena thought she saw the tattoos winding along her arms and torso vibrant, but she blinked and they were still.
“I would be honored,” said Casius.
“You really want me to?” said Hazel, her voice wary and her eyebrows raised suspiciously. “You’re not just including me as a pity gesture or something?”
“Not at all, Hazel,” said Serena. “I think you probably have a lot of good ideas. You just need to learn to speak up more.”
“Then, I’m in.”
“You want my first piece of advise?” said Moira, eyebrow raised.
“Sure.”
“I think it’s time to start your magic lessons.”
Hazel’s smile turned down. That’s the end of my magic lessons, she thought.
— — —
Serena took to magic with ease and exceptional skill, just as Moira had suspected she would. Triton encouraged her lessons, even designating a room on the second floor for them with shelves all along the walls, top to bottom, for holding books and potion ingredients. Plants of medicinal, magical, and aesthetic purposes grew in pots on the floor and on the wall. Triton’s enthusiasm allowed her to cast aside the last of her doubts about delving deep into magic, and she threw herself into the lessons with excitement and determination, and endured Moira’s hovering stare and bad attitude.
“Lesson number one,” Moira said on the first day of lessons, standing behind the cauldron she had bewitched the stone of the floor to shape itself into. It looked like a belly-up jellyfish, just like the one in their old home. She’d also brought her starfish chair. “Never do magic for free.”
“Isn’t that a little hypocritical, Mother?” said Serena. “You sound
like Amphitrite.”
“Amphitrite!” Moira shrieked, her hair writhing. “Don’t speak that name to me in here again, or I won’t teach you anything! Compare me to her again, and I’ll leave a mark on you that will help you remember who you’re dealing with. Amphitrite had no magical power. She demanded payment and adoration for a power outside of herself, a power she controlled only because she batted her eyelashes at Poseidon as a teenager. Your magic is special. Use it to your advantage, and don’t let anyone take advantage of you.”
“I will not make the merpeople pay for my magic,” said Serena, her voice loud and commanding, the voice of a queen. “I will not write shady contracts or deal with ill-gotten ingredients.”
Moira stared hard at Serena. Slowly, her hair fell back naturally around her shoulders.
“Are not the adoration and loyalty of your people payments of a sort?” said Moira. “That’s all I meant, darling.”
“Good,” said Serena. “Now, I would like to learn healing spells and potions first, and I’m not talking about anti-aging creams.”
“All in good time, darling,” said Moira. “You have to learn the basics first. That’s why lesson number two is controlling and summoning your magic.”
By the end of the week, Serena could summon things to herself seemingly out of thin air. By the end of the month, she felt totally in control of her inner power. Her emotions did not control it anymore; her mind did. When Triton surprised her with a sudden kiss, she no longer feared she would shock or burn him. Alone in their bedchamber, she could summon that pleasant, warm, and tingly sensation—produced by their very first kiss— at will, much to Triton’s delight. When she caught Moira bargaining with a young mermaid who wished to make her rival for a merman’s heart ill, she did not crack any more balconies or shake the items in the room.
It only took her three years to master all of the spells and potions in Moira’s books (at least, all the ones that were helpful rather than harmful). She crafted her own cauldron to look like a flower in full bloom, the petals curving up to form the lip of the cauldron and then gracefully bending down around the thin pedestal holding it up off the floor.
Hazel had been correct. Moira no longer bothered to teach her magic, calling it a lost cause, while at the same time bringing up Serena’s ability and how fast she was learning. Hazel often peeked into the room during Serena’s lessons, rage and hurt and shame storming inside her. She would swim off angrily and then return minutes later as if drawn to her own torture chamber by an unexplainable force.
If Moira saw her eavesdropping, she did not let on in any way, perhaps just to torture Hazel more. Serena, on the other hand, often caught a glimpse of her sister’s tail or glaring eyes darting out of sight of the doorway.
One morning, when Serena was only a two months into her lessons, she decided to try and help Hazel.
“Hazel, I’ve been thinking,” she said that morning at breakfast when Hazel gave her a gloomy hello. “I think the reason you’ve had…troubles with magic in the past is because you didn’t have the right sort of teacher.”
“Oh really?” said Hazel, her nose wrinkling in disdain.
“Yes,” said Serena, ignoring Hazel’s ugly tone, “and I know I’ve only been training for a few months now, and I haven’t gotten nearly as far as you have in lessons, but maybe once I get farther along, I could start teaching you. I think it would be fun, and it will be low pressure, unlike lessons with Mother. Maybe we could even piss Mother off a little bit and start learning new stuff on our own. How does that sound?”
Hazel nibbled on her algae cake and kept silent for so long that Serena almost sighed and left the room.
“Are you being serious, or are you just messing with me?” she finally said.
“Of course I’m being serious.”
“Alright then.”
After six months of lessons, Serena was already flying through Moira’s spell books and brewing new potions daily (some on request of Adamarians). She kept her promise, and twice a week, she and Hazel trained together. To Serena’s chagrin, after about two months of lessons, she was starting to think Hazel’s plight was hopeless. The damage had already been done. Moira had instilled the idea that she was worthless so deep inside of Hazel that she didn’t seem able to overcome it, even with Serena’s patient instruction and gentle encouragement. When Hazel tried to coax her very own cauldron from the stone floor with a song-like spell, the ensuing explosion shook the whole second floor and left a deep gouge in the stone, cauldron room floor. Serena and Hazel were tossed backward, end over end, and crashed into the shelves on the wall, shattering vials of ingredients. Serena had to fight to keep from shouting.
“Hazel,” she said, the name coming out quick and huffy as she massaged her neck and surveyed the damage, “I think we should hold off on lessons for a little while. Clearly, I’m not well enough equipped to teach you.”
“Clearly I’m an idiot, you mean,” said Hazel, sounding close to tears.
Serena could not hold in the frustrated sigh. Why did she always have to be such a whiner? She was always pouting when she messed up instead of trying to fix it or learn to make it better. “Hazel, you’re only as good as you think you are. Quit feeling sorry for yourself and whining that you can’t do it because you’re not good enough, and maybe you’ll surprise yourself.”
“Forget it. I quit!” said Hazel, and she fled the room, leaving Serena to clean up the mess.
Over the years, Hazel changed her mind a few times and asked for Serena’s help, all with the same result. Something went wrong, and Hazel bowed out. Serena caught her in the cauldron room a few times, trying to teach herself.
Serena excelled as much as Hazel struggled. The merpeople came to adore her, though at first they had their misgivings. Her first decree as queen, only a week into her reign, was abolishing Amphitrite’s law forbidding dealings with sea witches. She made the decree a public affair, just as Poseidon had made his announcement of Triton’s impending engagement.
“And for the few of you who do not already know,” she had said from her place beside Triton on the outer balcony, “I, myself, come from a long line of witches, and I too have magical power. From this day forward, I will use my magical power to help the citizens of Adamar.”
A suspicious murmur had run through the crowd. Sea witch magic was seen as untrustworthy, even dark. To have a queen who could not only perform it, but wished to use it in the merfolk’s affairs made many nervous.
“Queen Serena’s magical services, along with the magic of the Trident, shall be free of charge from this moment onward,” Triton had said, swimming forward to drown out the murmurs, “so long as the request is deemed necessary. If you want to be thinner or look ten years younger, you will have to pay for that service elsewhere.”
A cheer and many laughs had risen up from the crowd, and a good number of the Adamarians (mostly the poor) had cast their doubts aside right then—free magical help should never be frowned upon, whether it came from the Trident or a sea witch.
“We only ask that you be patient,” Triton had said. “Now that magical services are free, I am sure they will be in high demand. You will have to wait your turn on audience day, and you will have to wait for either the queen or myself to make the rounds to come to your aid, if your request is granted.”
Triton and Serena kept their word throughout their marriage, and they quickly became the most adored royals in Admarian history. Four times every month, an open, mass audience was held. Merfolk all over Adamar would flock to the throne room in lines that sometimes wrapped around the palace to kneel before the king and queen and ask them to heal a sick loved one, rebuild a destroyed home, save failing crops, etc. Special audiences could be scheduled through palace liaisons if an emergency arose before an audience day. Sometimes Triton and Serena could help the citizens right there in the thro
ne room—a quick spell to restore strength, a golden beam from the Trident to heal an injured tail or limb. Other requests, like rebuilding a home, had to be scheduled. Triton and Serena made these rounds together, always hand in hand.
Floating beside Triton, speaking to their merpeople, performing magic side by side, and seeing the looks of joy on the merpeople’s faces were some of the happiest moments in Serena’s life. She was proud of her accomplishments as queen. She was respected and adored and known as “The Queen with the Golden Heart” because she cared for her people, and because she was never without the golden heart-shaped locket around her neck.
By the time she began pardoning some of the banished merpeople she had met in Arcanus—a year into her reign—she was already so loved that no one questioned her decision. Over the next few years, she, Triton, and their advisors perused the banishment records in the record room of the palace and debated whether or not banishment had been a suitable punishment, or if perhaps a sufficient amount of time had passed for a fitting punishment.
Triton had been hesitant at first. “It’s like I’m defying my parents, and I can’t even face them when I do it. It feels almost cowardly,” he had said.
“I understand,” Serena had said. But her eyes had looked so sad and pleading and the little smile she flashed him to let him know it was alright was so sad that it made Triton’s heart hurt, and he came around rather quickly.
Alec, Serena’s friend from Arcanus, had been the first merperson she had pardoned. Annabelle, her fellow nurse in Arcanus, had come back to Adamar when she heard that Serena was on the throne, and the two remained good friends.
Casius had been the most delighted with Serena’s decision to pardon those wrongfully banished, and with her deliverance of her promise to do so, his loyalty grew. In fact, as the years went by, those closest to Serena began to notice that Casius’ mood and the color of his skin began to change with her mood. When she got angry because she’d caught Moira in another unsavory exchange with a citizen or because Triton forgot to inform her that he would be late for dinner, Casius’ skin would turn from his usual bright, reddish-orange to a deep crimson. When she was sad because she had not been able to administer a healing potion in time or the ailing merperson was just too old or too sick to recover, his skin turned a chalky grey. He was her closest companion besides Triton, and since he lived in the palace, he was almost always by her side or somewhere close by. Even though she had made Moira her chief advisor, it was Casius’ advise she valued most. If his opinion clashed with Moira’s, she usually went with his. He remained an avid fan of her magical skill, and always fought Moira when she inevitably brought up asking for payment for large magical favors at an advisory meeting.
The Sea Witch (The Era of Villains Book 1) Page 12
