by Zoe Chant
John’s blue eyes widened in sudden realization. “Because if his reflection crossed water, he could have been seen.”
“What?”
“It is one of the sea dragon arts. Scrying, seeing what is reflected in the surface of distant bodies of water.” John’s brow was furrowed in thought. “It is not my chosen art form, so I do not comprehend more than the very basic principles of it. But I know that our most talented Seers have been searching for him ever since he vanished. If he did not wish to be found, he could not risk going near open water.”
“Then why would he choose to live near a lake, for pity’s sake?”
“Because he was still a sea dragon,” John said softly. “And no sea dragon could bear to live without at least the sight of water. What it must have cost him, to gaze upon it every day, yet still keep his exile…”
“But why?” Neridia realized she was yelling, and tried to get herself back under control. “If, if what you’re saying is true, and he really was…why?”
“Why did he leave the sea? Why did he abandon the Pearl Throne, his duties and responsibilities, without a word of warning, not even to the Order of the First Water, his sworn guardians? I have long pondered that mystery, without a glimmer of insight.” John rubbed his hand across his face, mouth tightening into a grim, heartsick line. “But now…now, I think I am beginning to understand his mind.”
“My mom,” Neridia whispered, as the answer struck her too. “He loved her so, so much. When she passed away, a few months before he did, it was like part of him had died too. I think she must have been his mate.”
John nodded, slowly. “And he could not both rule the sea and serve his mate. No human may enter sunken Atlantis, and the Emperor can only rarely leave our city.”
“So he gave up his title, and the sea. He picked her.” John stiffened, and Neridia belatedly realized how he must have taken her words as an accusation. “No, I didn’t mean—I was just wondering how he could do that. I thought honor was everything to a sea dragon.”
“It is.” John’s tight shoulders eased down a little. “But the Emperor was not a Knight, bound by vows of chastity as I am. What would be dishonorable for me would not have been for him. I have no doubt that your father kept his honor, even though he gave up his Throne.”
Neridia found that she was holding her pearl, as she so often did for comfort. For most of her life, it had rested in the hollow of her father’s throat, gleaming against his slate-dark skin. He’d given it to her a few days before he’d died, and until yesterday it had never left her throat in all the four years since. Yet now, its familiar smooth surface seemed suddenly new and foreign.
Did he bring this with him? Is it a sea dragon treasure, a royal treasure? Did it have some special meaning?
When she’d first put it on, he’d looked at her so strangely. As though underneath his shining pride had been a deep, fathomless sadness…
“What I do not yet understand,” John said, frowning, “is why he never told you of your heritage. You are the Heir to the Pearl Throne. Even if he never intended to return, he should have been preparing you to take your rightful place. Why did he not?”
He sounded genuinely baffled. Neridia stared at him, unable to believe that he’d failed to see the blindingly obvious.
“John, I’m human.” She held out her arms, displaying her ordinary, utterly un-dragonlike self. “Even if I am half-sea dragon, I’m no shifter. My father must have been able to tell that.”
He looked at her as if she’d just announced she was a small purple rabbit. “Of course you are a sea dragon, Your Majesty.”
“No, I’m not! I think I should know! And for pity’s sake, stop calling me that!”
He shook his head stubbornly, charms chiming together in his long hair. “When we first met, when I first knew you to be my mate, I was absolutely convinced that you were of my kind. It was not until you fled that I began to doubt. Now, it is obvious that my first impression was indeed correct. I was merely fooled for a time by the misleading reflections on the surface, and did not see through to the true currents beneath.”
Neridia pressed her fists to her forehead. It was all too much. “I didn’t even know sea dragons existed until yesterday.”
“You have been kept in a dark vault, like a hidden treasure.” John rose to his feet at last, holding out his hand to her. His fingers trembled, ever so slightly. “But no longer. Come, Your Majesty. It is time to take your true form.”
Chapter 11
What if she’s right? John’s inner human asked uneasily. It was pacing in his mind, back and forth like a caged beast. What if she is just human?
John ignored the creature’s whispers as he led Neridia down to the waterside. It was a human trait to fret about the future, imagining the worst case so vividly that it crippled them from acting in the present. Sea dragons were unhampered by such weakness. A sea dragon saw what was so, and acted upon it, without hesitation or self-doubt.
Of course his mate was a sea dragon. What else could she be? Honor and strength shone from her like the very moon above.
No wonder I could not resist her. No wonder she draws me so strongly. My true self recognized her, even through weak human eyes.
He looked around, assessing the surroundings with professional scrutiny. Until Neridia—no, he must stop thinking of her in such familiar terms. Until Her Imperial Majesty could be provided with an appropriate retinue, he had sole responsibility for her safety.
“May I have your permission to ask a question, Your Majesty?”
Her Imperial Majesty glared at him. “Are you really going to keep calling me that?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” She had not given him permission. He kept his back very straight, gaze fixed somewhere over her left shoulder, and waited.
The wind blew. Insects sang in the plants edging the loch.
The Empress sighed, holding up her hands in surrender. “Now I know why Griff called you the most stubborn man he’d ever met. Okay, fine. What did you want to ask?”
“Is that dwelling-place derelict?” He pointed at the only other house in sight, a larger stone cottage set some distance away. The windows had been boarded over, and parts of the roof were skeletal.
“Yes.” A shadow flickered across her royal face, as if she had been stabbed by an old pain. “That was my parents’ old house. My childhood home. It burned down. That was how my dad, how he, he…the firefighters did all they could, but it was too late.”
Shame washed over him at this failure of his profession, although four years ago he hadn’t even left the sea, let alone become a firefighter himself. “All the sea grieves with you, Your Majesty. Did the investigation identify a cause for the tragedy?”
“They said the whole house had been soaked in gasoline, so thoroughly that they thought he must have done it himself.” Her lips tightened. “My mom had passed away a few months back, and everyone knew how devoted he’d been to her. The police recorded it as a suicide.”
He frowned. “Sometimes shifters do indeed lose the will to live after the death of their mates, but…your father had you. I cannot believe he would choose to end his own life, leaving the Heir to the Pearl Throne unguarded and unaware of her own heritage.”
“I didn’t think it was suicide either. There was this man, you see. He was at my dad’s house, the day before the fire. I only saw him briefly, and my dad said he was just an old friend who’d unexpectedly dropped by…but he gave me the creeps for some reason.” She hugged herself, shivering a little. “But since the police already thought they knew what had happened, they weren’t much interested in trying to track down some random guy just because I had a bad feeling about him.”
“You have all the knights of the sea at your personal command now, Your Majesty. We will find him, should you command us to do so, even if we must scour the entire earth.”
She sniffed, hastily swiping the back of one hand across her eyes. “That doesn’t sound very practical.”
&nbs
p; “Practicality is not one of our vows, Your Majesty.”
That won him a small smile, though her lower lip still trembled a little. “I kind of got that impression, yes. Why were you asking about the house, anyway?”
“I wished to be certain that it was uninhabited, Your Majesty. Since this location seems secure, we may proceed.” John began stripping out of his confining human clothes.
He was pulling off his shirt when he realized that she was simply staring at him, making no move to follow suit. “Do you require assistance, Your Majesty?”
“You want me to take off all my clothes and jump into the lake? Right now?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Are you insane?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
She rubbed her forehead. “You really weren’t kidding about the lack of practicality thing. John, this is Scotland, not the Bahamas! Even in summer, I’ll freeze solid in there. Not to mention the fact that I can’t even swim!”
“You will neither sink nor freeze, Your Majesty. You are a sea dragon. You are made for colder waters than-“
“I’m not, I keep telling you, I’m not!” She sat down heavily on a rock, burying her face in her hands. “Why did you have to turn up? Why did I have to find out any of this? Why can’t you just leave me alone, like you said you would?”
The Empress was weeping.
Without thinking, he reached out—and then snatched his hand back as his knightly training overruled instinct. One did not presume to touch the Imperial presence. He knelt instead, stone cold and sharp under his knees. “Your-“
“If the next word out of your mouth is Majesty, I shall hit you,” she snarled through her tears.
Etiquette, his inner human said, can go fuck itself.
“Neridia.” She looked up at the sound of her name, her face wet and vulnerable. He brushed her hair back from her damp cheek, his fingertips barely grazing her skin. “I am your mate. I know your soul, even the depths that you yourself do not. Trust me.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears. “You’re really certain about this?”
“As certain as I am about my own true self.” He touched her chest above her heart, then his own. “I was born a sea dragon, and was taught human form as a small child. But you were born in human shape, like a dry-land shifter. And is not unheard of for a dry-land shifter to come late to their other form.”
She took a deep breath, swiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “Really? You aren’t just saying that?”
“Candor is one of my knightly vows. I cannot lie. I promise you, your situation is not unique. Ask Griff, when you next see him. He too only learned to shift as an adult.”
She looked out at the lake. “My parents never let me swim,” she murmured as if to herself. “I’ve never been in the water. Not properly.”
Gently, he took her hands, lifting her to her feet. “Then allow me the great honor of bringing you home.”
She wore a silky garment the color of sea foam. Still holding her gaze, he reached behind her to find the tiny tab of the zipper. She did not protest as he slowly drew it down. The delicate straps slid over the soft curves of her shoulders.
Courage, courtesy, compassion, chastity, charity, constancy, candor. John mentally clung to the mantra of the Seven Knightly Vows as if to a lifeline as Neridia’s dress fell away. Courage, courtesy, compassion, chas-
Silk pooled around his mate’s feet, leaving her clad only in the barest wisps of lace, and all thought drained away.
Her curves held both the abundance of the earth and the rolling waves of the sea. Her skin evoked the rich tones of fertile soil, warmer than his own ocean-tinged hue. Her navel was a tiny perfect whirlpool; her collarbones graceful as the wings of gulls.
He might have stared in dumbstruck worship until the end of time and tides, but she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m cold.”
Every drop of his soul cried out with the desire to embrace her and warm her against his own body. But if he did…
I would never be able to let go again.
He forced himself to step back, though it felt like fighting against the strongest ocean current. He cleared his throat. “The, the water shall warm you, Your Majesty.”
He turned away, crouching down to put one hand just above the surface of the water. The lake rose up to meet his touch, waves rubbing against his palm like a dolphin’s arched back. He could hear the water’s anticipation, its shivering eagerness to greet the Empress.
Gently, gently, he cautioned the water, as best he could with a mere human voice. Feel the warmth of my blood; all seas are one sea, and your currents flow through my veins. Give back your stored summers, remember the heat of distant sands. Embrace my lady gently, as I cannot.
“Here, Your Majesty.” He motioned her forward. “The way is prepared for you.”
She cast him a dubious look, but kicked off her shoes. Her eyes widened as her bare toes dipped into the water. “It’s warm!”
“The lake is your loyal subject, Your Majesty, as are all waters. It is anxious to please you.”
The water murmured with pleasure, caressing the Imperial ankles. John tightened one fist, fighting for control as the lake whispered and sighed over the silkiness of her skin. Linked to its currents as he was, he could not help but feel everything that the water did. The elegance of her instep, the perfect shells of her toenails, the soft swells of her calves…
The Empress waded out further, and John bit back a moan as the water crept past her dimpled knees and up her thighs. The lake sang in ecstasy as it lapped higher, tasting her intoxicating salt-
“John?” Waist-deep, she looked back at him in concern. “Are you coming?”
“A, a moment,” he gasped, hunched over.
Courage, courtesy, compassion, chastity, charity, constancy, candor! He mentally shouted his Knightly Vows, drowning out the water’s sensual song. Courage, courtesy, compassion, chastity, charity, constancy, candor!
His crisis retreated a little, leaving him not quite so much on the brink of utterly shaming himself right there on the shore. Straightening, he strode into the water—raising rather more concealing spray than was strictly necessary.
“You’ll ruin your suit,” she said as he splashed over to join her.
“It is a necessary sacrifice, Your Majesty.” He wished that he could ask the lake to drop the temperature to sub-arctic levels in a very localized area. “Come. We must go deeper. Your true form will require more space.”
The Empress hesitated, biting her lip. “I can’t swim.”
“You can swim.” He took her hand, drawing her forward. “You were born able to swim, Your Majesty.”
She grabbed at his hand as her feet left the bottom, eyes suddenly panicked. “John-!”
“Let your body recognize what your mind has forgotten.” He wove a calm melody around the human words, urging the water to cradle her as gently as a soft-scaled hatchling. “You spent the first nine months of your existence floating, rocked by the tides of your mother’s heart. You knew water long before you ever knew air. You merely need to be reminded.”
He was floating too now, balanced on his back, his long legs positioned protectively underneath her. The lake swirled around them both, supportive and welcoming. He felt her rigid muscles ease a little at the friendly, buoyant touch of the water.
Cautiously, she relaxed into the embrace of the lake. She kept hold of his hand, but her free arm drifted out, fingers opening like a delicate anemone unfurling.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Oh.”
“See, Your Majesty,” he whispered, heart near breaking with pride and longing. “You are home.”
She rolled over onto her own back, effortlessly, with barely a swirl of her hand. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back so her ears were under the water.
He gazed at her calm profile as she floated alongside him. There was a tremor in the deeps, a sense of a great power stirring. He could practically see the gl
isten of her scales, the royal sweep of her horns. The sense that a sea dragon swam alongside him was strong, so strong…
She opened her eyes again, looking at him rather ruefully. “I really have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing now.”
“You are so close, Your Majesty. Can you also not sense it? Your true self, rising from the depths?”
She shook her head, droplets of water caught like a coronet of diamonds in her dark hair. “I just feel like me.”
The lake murmured in frustration. She holds back. Something stops her from uniting with the flow.
The thin gleam of gold around the Empress’s neck caught John’s eye. He followed the line of the chain down to the shimmering pearl resting in the hollow of her throat.
Could it be…?
“Tell me about this, Your Majesty,” He gently hooked a finger around the necklace to draw the pearl out of the water. “You said your father gave it to you?”
“Yes, just before he died. He’d always worn it before then. I don’t know why he suddenly decided to give it to me—he just said that it was my turn to have it. He made me promise to wear it, always. He wasn’t a superstitious person, but he seemed to think it would somehow protect me.” She cast him a curious sidelong look. “Why are you asking about my pearl now?”
“We have no paper under the sea. Our Scribes work in pearl, starting from a simple kernel of meaning, and wrapping it in layers of shining nuance. The very best can capture our songs, creating pearls of great power.”
The Empress put her hand to the pearl. “You think my pendant is magical?”
“I myself possess a pearl imbued with tales of our greatest knights, set into the hilt of my sword, to lend me their fortitude and endurance. If a pearl can be enchanted to strengthen, I suspect one can also be made to weaken.”
She was silent for a long moment, treading water. Then she reached behind her neck to unfasten the chain. “Will you look after this for me?”
“With my life.” He took it from her.
She watched anxiously as he fastened it around his neck. “Do you…feel any different?”
