Page 76 of In Violent Waves

He did not want to do this. In the short week he had been stuck with her, she had burrowed herself beneath his skin.

“You will do it. It is your duty,” his father ordered.

Duty.

His father knew what that word meant to him. The responsibility he had struggled with since he was a small child and learned that the survival of their court—the entire realm—would one day fall to him.

Wilder bowed his head, biting back the arguments that were ready to fly off the tip of his tongue.

“I know you don’t like to hear about your future,” Oberon started.

“Then don’t tell me.”

Wilder turned on his heel and stalked from the throne.

Otto, Ridge, and Maelys gave him a wide berth. He didn’t care at all about the disrespect he had shown to his father or his mother.

Once again, his choice, his independence, had been ripped from him in the name of duty.

One more pound added to the ever-increasing weight on his shoulders. He hated this, hated what he had been born into.

He was envious that Lyra had a shot at freedom, for he knew he never would.

Lyra stared open-mouthed after Wilder as he ripped open the throne room door and left her standing there, alone, in front of his stunned parents. She didn’t know whether to laugh or applaud.

Why had he been scolding her for her disrespect, and only to blatantly do it now?

Queen Aine tutted and then heaved a sigh. “I told you this would happen. You should have included us in your scheming, darling.”

She addressed her husband as if they were the only two people in the room. It was strange, this balance between them.King Oberon was the king, so he was in power. But he trusted and respected his wife if she was allowed to speak so freely.

“Princess,” King Oberon addressed her now. “Maelys will escort you to your room to change and then take you to the training ground. We may have a partnership, but you are still the princess of Merfolk and here under my goodwill. Do not go anywhere without an escort.”

Lyra tried to give him her kindest smile. She failed miserably.

Courtly demeanor was never her strength, and the fact that she had agreed to bargain with the High King was making her stomach roil. She had desperately wanted her freedom, but she hadn’t thought this through in the slightest. Her breath came out in sharp pants.

“Fine,” she replied.

Lyra turned and strode to Maelys without a goodbye or curtsy, following in Wilder’s supremely disrespectful footsteps. She had to get out of here—and now.

Maelys blanched and curtsied to her king and queen, awaiting their dismissal, before walking with Lyra out of the throne room.

Once they had breached the doors, Maelys clutched her chest.

“That was tense,” she said, shaking her head. “I thought for sure he would strike you down.”

Lyra snorted. “I knew he wouldn’t kill me.”

Maelys yanked her to a stop and stared at her like she had grown two heads. “How?”

“Why go to all that trouble to kidnap and keep me alive just to kill me when no one was there to witness it?”

Maelys shook her head, and the bird on her shoulder clicked its beak.

“You’re very sharp today.”

Lyra grinned, and it was a thing of horror. “You have no idea.”