Page 164 of In Rising Tides

“If I bend doctrine now, then what kind of Tidal Master would I be?” Aegir asked.

“An alive one,” Lyra muttered under her breath.

Drystan angled his body in a way that nearly covered her completely. “Under my rule—” he began.

Aegir tutted. “Not until tomorrow.”

The guards behind Drystan shifted uncomfortably. Lyra cast her attention towards them and noticed the deepening scowls on more than a few faces. When she turned her attention back towards the stalemate, she realized why.

Behind Aegir were more than a dozen acolytes of the temple. They were all heavily armed.

She didn’t need to enter the temple.

As much as she wanted to see Tiandra and the faces on the princes when they realized she had been right all along, the princes and Drystan were the only ones who needed to enter.

“Unless you’re here to retrieve your trident?” Aegir asked, stroking a hand across his chin. “You know it’s not yours until the princess is.”

Lyra gaped. She had no idea the trident was here.

Drystan inhaled sharply. “No. We are here only to check on repairs and for Lyra to get a glimpse?—”

“Forgive me,” Lyra blurted out. “I only wanted to be closer to Ennosidas before our wedding tomorrow. To feel absolved from my time on land,” she hung her head to really sell it. “If your only grievance is my entry, then you can allow the others inside,” she gestured to the princes behind them. “I will not cross the threshold and bring more shame upon myself.”

Drystan’s eyes widened a fraction before he caught her meaning and nodded his head.

“Such piety, from our future queen,” Drystan spoke with a regal flourish. “Your ceremonies have done wonders for her faith, Aegir.” He swam forward, passing Aegir and patting the Tidal Master on the shoulder.

Aegir was frozen. His eyes darted between them all as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

Drystan turned so that he was facing Lyra, just inside the threshold. “There’s a lovely garden to the south. You can wait for us there, my love.”

Lyra dipped her chin and turned to leave before Drystan cleared his throat. “Fang, Angler, stay with my princess.”

The council swam in behind Drystan, followed by the remainder of their guard, while Lyra found herself surrounded by Fang and Angler.

She felt a weight had been lifted from her chest. There was no way Aegir could hide the mural now.

They had succeeded—partially.

“What about the ceremony?” Fang whispered.

Lyra shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be performed in the temple. We could do it anywhere.”

They swam beneath a marble archway, and the brush of the current turned softer. It pebbled her skin like the kiss of a cool wind. She paused.

“We should do it here,” she breathed, closing her eyes and trying to wrap her mind around what was happening.

The ocean felt more alive here, ancient and eternal, but alive. Her heart fluttered against her ribs, and she pressed her palms against her chest, trying to slow its frantic beating.

“Are you alright?” Angler asked.

Her eyes blinked open, and she smiled. “More than alright.” She took a deep, settling breath. “This place … it’s magic.”

It was like nothing she had ever seen or felt before. Towering marble sculptures, delicate-looking sea flowers, and colossal coral that resembled trees.

Lyra devoured the beauty around them, soaking in every detail like a sea sponge. It was like stepping onto land for the first time.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Fang mumbled.