Page 27 of In Rising Tides

The fury in his eyes washed away like the surf against the shore, leaving a withering stare behind.

“The lengths I traveled to secure our positions have not yet been accomplished. We balance on the precipice of utter ruin, and if you are not compliant,” he shook his head, lowering his voice before his heavy gaze locked with hers again. “We stand to lose more than just the throne.”

Lyra blinked, weighing the veracity in his words.

Unfortunately, she found him to be telling the truth. Whatever he was afraid of, whatever he was warning her of, it was serious.

“What has happened?” she asked almost pleadingly.

She would need to understand the scope of danger he had roped her into so that she would be able to formulate an escape.

After she broke the tithe, only half of her bargain will have been completed.

Lyra would then need to make it back to shore—to Badenvaria, to undo the remaining part of the tithe.

Drystan watched her carefully, as if he were capable of peering into her mind, before sighing wearily.

He seemed to be unraveling before her very eyes. Lines marched across his forehead and tugged down the edges of his eyes.

“I’ll have the servants come and prepare you.” He tugged a lock of her unbound hair. She might have been mistaken, but it appeared his eyes softened. “Wouldn’t want you looking anything but your best.”

“Servants?” Lyra asked.

Since when had she ever had servants?

Drystan wrapped a hand around her arm, holding her in place.

“Things are different now. Those misplaced or punished serve the crown.”

Lyra didn’t have a chance to question him before he was pulling open the door.

Two mermaids stood at her threshold waiting expectantly.

“One hour,” Drystan ordered them. “I want her presentable, but not in those garish ceremonial robes.”

One of the mermaids, with silver streaked through her black hair, lowered her chin. A netted bag was clutched in her hand, and it waved back and forth with the hovering of her navy tail.

A nearly identical-looking female was just behind her, but her hair was almost entirely silver.

Drystan swam past them, and Lyra stared after him.

There was so much he wasn’t telling her, so much about their kingdom had changed, and she wasn’t afraid to admit that it frightened her.

The mermaids bent at the waist as they bowed to Lyra, their chests nearly grazing the floor.

A flicker of a memory constricted Lyra’s throat.

There would be no easy given smiles or bubbling laughter from them. No fluttering about the room or gossiping.

It was as if all the color had been leached from the world. She felt the stirrings of anger and resentment—she wanted to go back—she wanted to go home.

“I have no intention of allowing you to ready me for this meeting. You may leave.”

Lyra sucked in her lower lip to keep the quivering at bay.

Fear clouded both of their brown eyes, and the one with the silver-streaked hair trembled.

“Please, Princess. Allow us to do our duty.”