Page 23 of In Rising Tides

Drystan raised the trident again, and the crowd bowed.

Lyra rolled her eyes. “They’re not loyal to you. Theyfearyou. It’s very different.”

“And what do you know of loyalty, Princess? You chose an elf over your own kind.”

“I know that elf has garnered the loyalty and admiration of his entire realm. Something that will never be possible for you.”

“Admiration does not constitute a mighty king. Admiration is a faulty emotion and changes swiftly with ever-changingtemperaments,” Drystan’s voice took on a haughty quality as he reveled in the crowd’s subservience.

Lyra plastered on the mask she wore to events such as this.

There would be ample talk of her arrival. She could see it in the bright eyes and the shared looks as they passed.

“Fear lends to anger,” she said under her breath.Drystan glanced sidelong at her, his smile vanishing. “When they grow tired of fearing you, they will hate you. And when they hate you, they will dethrone you.”

His nostrils flared as he looked away from her. “Then it’s a relief I’ll have you at my side to protect me.”

Lyra couldn’t help the shock that dropped her jaw. “You’re an imbecile if you think I’ll stand in the way of that.”

“As my wife, you will be bound to,” he said with a shrug. “If I die, it means the kingdom has fallen, and whoever takes my place would want you dead alongside me.”

Her hackles rose at his crude description of their deaths.

If Drystan died, it would be at her hand, but she wouldn’t want the weight of the kingdom to fall onto her shoulders.

“It’sourfuture I’m building, Lyra,” Drystan said as they arrived at the foot of the palace.

Golden spires rose so high that they appeared to have reached the surface.

It was just as foreboding as it had been the last time she saw it. Only now the gold appeared tarnished, the rot it had kept hidden seeping through.

“We have no future,” Lyra replied in a tired voice.

It was becoming exhausting to fight him.

That absence of self in the back of her mind grew larger. It slithered from the darkness, a snake through tall grass, and coiled around her spine.

Banners of the Ithicais house crest rippled beside the wide-open doors as nobility poured out and into the courtyard they had just entered.

Powerful tails of varying colors swished as they took up positions along the palace exterior. Diaphanous gowns of pure white broke up all the color.

It was strange to see mermaids wearing so much clothing. Their hair was pulled back into tight buns or covered altogether.

Lyra struggled to get a better look at them to see what territory they might have come from, but they never met her gaze. Their heads remained bowed.

Lyra watched them pass as Drystan tugged her through the palace doors, the silence in the courtyard giving way to an even stiller silence inside.

She glanced sidelong at Drystan, who swam beside her, sighing as he looked up into the towering ceiling of the entryway. He appeared to be relieved at their arrival.

This had been where she grew up. Her father raised her within these walls. But she couldn’t feel his presence anymore.

He wasn’t even a ghost lingering in the halls.

“How did you secure the throne?” she asked, finally giving in to her curiosity.

“Not just the throne,” Wilder grinned, gesturing to his trident.

He didn’t answer her question.