Black Sea Bright Song

by Shelly Jarvis

  Poseidon’s Blood • Book I

  Black

  Sea

  Bright

  Song

  Shelly Jarvis

  Copyright © 2019 Shelly Jarvis

  All rights reserved.

  DEDICATION

  For Joseph Lusk

  Thank you for caring about the worlds in my head

  and accepting my absence when I am lost in them.

  One

  Swirls of water filled the view from the glass passage. Evannia stared out at the seaweed garden with the fluorescent coral branching towards her, colonies of polyps outstretched like fingers. The lush enclosure was an oasis from life inside the castle, but today her nerves would not be soothed. She was late for a meeting with the Queen.

  Evannia wasn’t one to keep her mother waiting. She hoped the rarity of her tardiness would protect her. It was a foolish thing, really, but Evannia simply didn’t want to walk past that damn guard. She sighed and stepped away from the glowing greenery. She had to face him, one way or another.

  It had only been two days since Rafe kissed her. She traced her fingers against her lips as she walked, unable to stop the shadow of a smile spreading across her face. There should be some sort of law that said if you gave a girl her first kiss, you had to talk to her the next day.

  But he hadn’t.

  She’d seen him in passing as he was chatting up one of the maids and he had ignored her. He ignored her. As if he hadn’t been the one to initiate the whole thing. It made her blood boil.

  And now she had no choice but to walk past him on her way to the throne room. She schooled her face in the serene expression her mother used. No emotion, she thought. He is unimportant. She pressed her hands down the sapphire-colored gown to smooth away the wrinkles and stepped around the corner.

  Rafe was at his post some yards ahead. Evan stared at the profile of his sharp features. Below strong cheekbones his jaw was clenched, hiding the playful smile she longed to see. His black hair was short, a shadow against his tanned skin. His arm and chest muscles stood out under the navy blue scaled armor that made up the Triton guard’s uniform. And those legs, she sighed, feeling a flutter in her stomach.

  Evan stared for only a moment before stepping towards him. She struggled to convince her body to breathe as she approached. Each step made her skin warmer and an electric current buzzed just below the surface. She knew she should pass him wordlessly, she must, but instead she heard herself say, “Sir guard.”

  “Hello, Princess.”

  Evannia clenched her fists at her side, fighting to retain her placid expression, even as her heart jumped into her throat. With a rush of air, she asked, “Having a good day?”

  He smiled. “A glorious day, Princess. Thank you for asking.”

  She felt a tic in her cheek as she turned to leave. Had he really just acted like nothing had happened? She wanted to scream. She’d only taken two steps when she felt his hand on her arm. Rafe whispered, “Be careful, Evan. Your mother just met with her advisors and two of them left in tears. Don’t let her overwhelm you today.”

  “It’s difficult,” she said, her brows furrowed. His touch was sending fire coursing through her, and she had to choose her words carefully. “Her emotions are powerful. I can’t help but feel them.”

  “She has no control over you. Be strong.”

  He released her arm and she continued down the steps towards the Queen’s reception hall. She could feel Rafe watching her go but dared not turn back. His words were kind in a way she hadn’t expected. He hadn’t used her title or her full name, so that was something. But he didn’t mention their kiss or give her any clue about what was happening between them.

  If something is happening, she thought.

  She exhaled, wishing she could skip the meeting today. Rafe’s warning was a reminder of the last conference she’d had with her mother and the way it had left Evan sick for several days. No one understood Evan’s strange bouts of illness, and she couldn’t explain them without sounding crazy. Emotion sickness?

  She shook away the thought and moved on. There was another guard standing by the door ahead of her. He frowned as she approached; Declan always wore the stoic look her mother preferred. He growled, “Princess Evannia.”

  “Hello, Master Guard,” she said. “I have a gift for you.”

  His angular face contorted in annoyance. “Your mother will not be pleased if she finds you’ve wasted resources on the likes of me.”

  Evan pulled a thin enameled box from the folds of her dress. She leaned in conspiratorially and said, “The worst part? It’s worth a week’s wage.”

  “She’s going to kill you,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face.

  “We’re not a poor kingdom. We can afford it. Especially for your birthday.”

  “How did you know?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  Evan smiled. “I have my ways.”

  He stared at the box as if it were the vilest thing he’d ever seen. She could feel delight and exasperation rolling off him in alternating waves. “It is kind of you to honor me in such a way, but I can’t accept this.”

  “Of course you can,” she said.

  “Princess—”

  “Don’t argue, Declan. “Just open it.”

  He pressed his lips together in a tight line. He opened the box, his eyes going wide. Declan withdrew the dagger, running his fingers down the intricate hilt. “It’s beautiful.”

  Evannia beamed. “I’m glad you like it.”

  Declan nodded. “Thank you, Princess. Before you go, I have a gift for you.”

  Evannia clapped her hands. “I love presents.”

  The old guard pressed his lips together. “Unfortunately, mine is not sweet like the one you’ve given me.”

  “What is it?”

  “Silence.”

  Evannia frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I will not tell your mother of your relationship with the young guard.”

  Evan felt her world close in around her. How could Declan possibly know just from one kiss? She realized her mouth was hanging open, and quickly remedied it. Mustering up as much indignation as she could, Evan said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He smiled sadly, kindness in his pale eyes. He placed his calloused hand upon hers and said, “The others haven’t noticed yet, but they will. If another guard discovers it, they will report it, and I won’t be able to cover it up. Do you know what will happen if your mother finds out?”

  She nodded. Her mouth went dry and she dared not say a word, for fear her own voice would betray her. Was this how Celia felt when the rumors had started about her? Were they only rumors?

  “I trust you would not wish that fate to befall your young man?”

  She took a steadying breath before saying, “I would not wish that fate for anyone.”

  “You are a kind girl,” Declan said. “You will make a good queen. But you must understand, you are meant to be royalty while Rafe is meant to be a guard.”

  Evan knew that Declan was trying to protect both her and Rafe, but she had been giving the matter much thought as of late. She carefully said, “I appreciate your candor, Declan. I know you are trying your best to keep me safe, even if it is my heart in danger and not my life. Although your words are true, I cannot believe there is no way to change these outdated traditions.”

  “Perhaps your reign will transform the laws, but you cannot risk his life based on what you hope will change.” Declan sighed. “My greatest desire is that you’ll spend your life beside a man you love. But sometimes we don’t get what we want, Princess. And sometimes your station requires more than you thought you’d have to give. I hope your position as heir to Triton does not destroy yo
ur happiness as it has those before you.”

  Evan pressed her lips tightly together, holding back the tears that threatened to overflow. Declan’s words tumbled through her head, reminding her of the former heir and her oldest sister, Celia. The choices Celia had made still lingered, haunting Evan with their consequences.

  With a sudden jolt, Declan’s fear pulsed through her. She could feel his worry over Rafe getting hurt, of Evan being shamed, and the strength of his fear caused her to share it.

  “Don’t cry, Evan. Too many questions if you do.”

  She reached up and touched her cheek, finding tears she hadn’t realized were there. She took a deep, calming breath and said, “Thank you for my gift. As always, your counsel is appreciated.”

  Declan bowed his head and said, “I hope you heed my words, Evannia. For everyone’s sake.”

  He pushed open the door to the queen’s reception area. Evannia took several breaths and focused on each step as she struggled to clear her mind. Her time with Rafe, however brief, had made her feel buoyant and joyful, but now it was Declan’s fear carrying her forward. She needed her emotions neutral before she saw her mother, or things would not go well.

  She blinked hard as her eyes tried to adjust to the dim room. There were a dozen massive candelabras placed throughout the shadowed chamber. The queen sat in the center, bathed in candlelight, her glossy blue-black hair glowing as it framed her face. Her scarlet lips were perfectly matched to her gown, bright against her porcelain skin.

  Evannia walked forward, eyes downcast. There was a time she would’ve run through the room, dancing in the light that once filled it. As a child, she played here and listened to her mother and father talk about the kingdom. It had been Evannia’s favorite place to be. Not so after her father’s death; there was no longer joy in this room.

  When she was a few feet from the queen, she knelt and waited. She counted silently, ticking away the seconds her mother made her kneel. She’d learned that the longer her mother made her wait, the higher her emotions were running that day.

  “Good day, Evannia,” the queen said, after a mere twelve seconds.

  “Good day, my queen.”

  “You’ve come to see me about the Protean Ball?”

  “As you wish.”

  The queen smirked. “Illanee, have a chair brought for my daughter.”

  The advisor emerged from the shadows and walked to a side door. She ushered in a servant who placed the chair to the side of the queen. Still, Evannia knelt.

  “Daughter, would you care to sit with me?”

  “If it pleases you, my queen,” she said.

  “It does.”

  Evannia stood, curtsied, and moved to the chair. Now that the formalities were complete, her mother would begin their visit in earnest.

  “There are quite a few eligible noblewomen attending the Protean ball,” the queen said. “It is Prince Calix’s Thrice Day, you know.”

  “Yes,” Evannia said, her tone formal. “He’s fortunate to celebrate his birthday, his official appointment to the throne, and his engagement.”

  “The Prince is quite lucky to have so many women from which to choose,” the queen said, her face souring. “Obviously you would be his best match.”

  “You are biased, dear mother.”

  “Nonsense. Prince Calix would be wise to choose you for your breeding alone.”

  “My breeding? You say that as if I’m quality livestock.”

  The queen frowned. “I don’t like your tone, Evannia.”

  “I’m sorry, mother,” Evan said quickly. “I do not wish to be disrespectful, I only wish to better understand your position.”

  “Honestly, Evannia, it’s as if you’ve disregarded all your lessons. How can you rule our kingdom if you can’t look at these things without emotion ruling you?”

  Evan moved her face into what she thought was a placid expression. She dared not mention all the emotions she could feel rolling off her mother.

  “Your line can be traced directly to Poseidon himself,” the queen said, pulling Evan back to the moment.

  “So can his,” Evan said. “Wouldn’t that make us related?”

  The queen scoffed and said, “Darling, by that logic, your father and I should never have married. Really, all the Mer are related if you trace back far enough. Poseidon had many children with many maidens, which have all intermingled through the millennia.”

  “With so many lines tracing back to Poseidon, how can you claim my breeding as a reason for the prince to choose me?”

  The queen rolled her eyes. “Must we have a genealogy lesson right now? You know the answers to these questions.”

  It was true that she didn’t need her mother to tell her about the lines to Poseidon; in fact, she was probably more versed in the subject than anyone else in the kingdom. She had always been fascinated by Poseidon’s descendants, and had eagerly studied them growing up.

  “The truest lines are yours and the Prince’s,” Astraea said with a flourish of her hand. “The Glaucans are desperate for the union and will be sending a daughter, but the smaller lines likely won’t have a representative to send.”

  “What about the Benkes and the Rhodes?”

  “They might as well be humans?” Astraea scoffed. “There are few who still live in the sea. The landed have blood that retains the barest link to Poseidon. As they mingle with humans, their heritage is completely lost.”

  “Do you think that will happen to Celia?”

  A flash of anger distorted her mother’s face, and Evan felt a jolt of pain in her abdomen.

  “You know better than to speak that name.”

  “I’m sorry, mother. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Please, forgive me.”

  The queen looked away, and the pain in Evan’s abdomen subsided. Queen Astraea took a deep breath and said, “As I was saying, combining our lines would create the strongest ties to Poseidon possible. It would also unite our two houses for the rest of our days.”

  “How would that be beneficial?” Evan asked.

  The queen puckered her lips and Evan knew she was trying to decide whether to answer her or not. It was true that Evan’s tutors had already had this discussion with her, but somehow it seemed important to ask her mother directly.

  “I won’t live forever,” the queen said.

  Evan blinked. It wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting. Evan thought her mother would talk about the need for a strong bloodline or about how the people expected their royalty to retain the essence of Poseidon. She hadn’t been prepared for Astraea to talk about her own mortality.

  “I don’t want to speak of that, my queen. You are quite young. There are many more years of your reign still to come.”

  Her mother sighed. “I want my children to have a good life. I want my line to continue. I married your father because I was asked to do so, for the good of my family.”

  Evan’s eyes searched her mother’s face. “You don’t mention them often.”

  “They’re gone. Why speak of ghosts?” Astraea asked.

  Evan gasped as a stab of pain flashed through her chest. She couldn’t read people’s thoughts, only the emotions they projected, but it was clear her mother thought of something very painful in her past. Astraea’s emotions abruptly turned away from the pain, and Evan could feel her mother’s hurt dissolve into something much colder.

  “I have spoken to the Protean king on your behalf, and he has assured me that our line is the one with which he wants to join. He has advised his son to choose you.”

  Evan narrowed her eyes. The cruelty feeding her mother bled into her. “And what of the last line, mother? Should we expect them at the ball?”

  The queen’s face darkened. “You dare speak of those creatures?”

  “They are a line to Poseidon, are they not?”

  Astraea gritted her teeth and said, “Lisma is a direct descendant of Poseidon and that monster, that Merewif, but she is not worthy of the time it takes to speak her name. Vil
e, filthy Sirens.”

  “The Merewif,” Evan said, focusing on her mother. “The sea-witch’s name was Chthon.”

  “I do not care what her name was. She created those awful creatures that plague us still. Now can we please drop this conversation?”

  Evan felt the anger rising in her mother. It was a rush of fury barely contained. It left Evan’s head buzzing as she tried to push away the feelings her mother was projecting. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “One more question, mother, and then I will not mention them again. Why are you so uncomfortable speaking of the Sirens?”

  The candlelight behind Astraea flickered. For a moment Evan thought it would go out, but the light suddenly flared so brightly that Evan had to blink away spots. She looked up as anger flashed in her mother’s eyes, and Evan knew she’d pushed her too far. The rush of anger broke through her mother’s restraints, and though her face remained poised, Evan could feel the rage inside her. The rush of emotion made Evan dizzy, her mind swirling as her mother’s anger crashed against her.

  When the queen spoke, her voice was strained, her words clipped. “Tonight, we dine with the nobles. In the morning, your carriage will take you to Protea. I recommend you do everything in your power to sway the prince towards you.”

  Evan jerked back. “Mother, are you suggesting—”

  Astraea cut her off. “Everything.” Evan blinked, unsure how to respond. Her mother added, “We each must play our part, Evannia. This is the part assigned to you.”

  The rush of fury fell away. Evan was surprised to feel a surge of pity swell inside her mother. She took the change in emotion as an opportunity to say, “Mother, I’m sorry for angering you.”

  “You are dismissed,” the queen replied.

  “Please,” Evan said, “let’s talk about this. Give me some say in who I marry.”

  “I dismissed you, child,” the queen said, rising to her feet.

  Evan swallowed her words and stood. She bowed quickly before retreating from the reception hall. The door swung open and she stumbled into the hallway, her breath coming in short gasps. She knelt before the door to the reception hall, her body shaking as she tried to recover.