Page 30 of In Rising Tides

“Prince Caspian must be very proud,” Lyra muttered, thinking of Marmoris’ husband, the commanding Prince of Huron.

It made sense that all they did was breed.

Lyra shivered, imagining the frigid waters to the northwest. There wasn’t much else to do in the rocky territory.

The reminder of the icy waters pulled something else from her memory. She had swum in those waters before.

But not as a mermaid—as a human.

Huron would have bordered the rocky outcropping on which the summer cottage Wilder had built.

She hadn’t realized that when she had been there.

Lyra swallowed, trying to think of anything but her time there, and who she had lovingly spent it with. Verilila’s words spun through her mind once more.

Seven children, good gracious. That was quite a feat and a great show of power.

She thought of Caspian again, with his long white hair and dark-navy tail. With one more child, he would surpass her father in offspring, which made sense given how much Caspian reminded her of King Auris.

Lyra’s memory of Marmoris, too, painted her out to be a sort of matriarchal figure ruling over all the sisters. Being the eldest, Marmoris had undergone the most pressure.

That much had been obvious in Lyra’s scattered memories of her. Always striving for perfection and holding herself to a higher standard.

It was impossible to remember a time when her sister had looked unbothered or relaxed.

Not that she had spent much time with her. But Lyra did fleetingly remember Marmoris giving her instructions that should have come from a mother, like which silverware to useat formal events, how to hold yourself steady so people wouldn’t know your true feelings, or which kylixes are for public events.

Now that she really thought about it, Lyra had a lot of her etiquette practices to thank her sister for, like how to hold a conversation.

“Is Enna happy?” Lyra asked, realizing she had fallen silent for quite some time.

Taria bit her lower lip, and Lyra bristled.

She was getting close to gossiping by merfolk standards, and she didn’t know if Verilia and Taria would even answer.

“Happy, my lady?” Verilia asked with a quizzical brow.

“Yes, does she smile? Has she found fulfillment in her life?” Lyra clarified, drumming her nails against the top of her vanity.

She didn’t think she was asking a particularly tough question. But happy wasn’t an adjective that was often used here.

Taria’s sharp teeth clamped down on her lower lip. It was all the clarification Lyra had needed.

“She’s under a significant amount of stress as of late,” Taria answered at last.

Verilia elbowed her sister.

“How so?” Lyra pressed on.

Taria peered out of the window before glancing at the door. “We mustn’t speak of it, Your Highness. It isn’t safe.”

Lyra flicked her attention from the door to the window.

A drumbeat reverberated through her window. It was a strange, mournful song.

She rose from the stool to get a better look.

Four mermen, clad in long, thick robes obscuring their entire bodies, wove through the streets in a straight line.