Page 77 of In Rising Tides

Shehatedhim.

The arrogance in his eyes, the self-importance that wafted from him in waves, and the sneer that tugged up his scarred lips.

Lyra looked away from him and towards the crowd that kept growing.

Mermaids lined the foot of the dais, hands connected as they continued singing an ancient song.

A siren’s song, a lure to mortals from the inky depths; it was ethereal. The dome of the room caught and guided the melody around every crevice in the room.

The crowd was a sea of white, like the foam on a wave. An entire room leached of color.

Memories from the last time she was here came flooding back. She had instigated a small rebellion.

A hairstyle left undone.

That wouldn’t be possible now.

There wasn’t a single child in the room, Lyra realized.

Drystan dug his fingertips in further and cleared his throat.

“Apologies, Aegir. Her time in the mortal world has left her devoid of decorum.”

Lyra didn’t bother with a response, but Aegir did.

“Do not apologize, Sire. A silent mermaid is an obedient one.”

Lyra couldn’t help the flaring of her nostrils. They spoke as if she wasn’t even there, as if she were a problem to be solved.

Aegir had cast his eyes around the crowd and was smiling triumphantly.

She loathed him for that.

But the demeanor of the crowd ensnared her, too. There were more than a handful of glares turned her way.

“I wanted to thank you for the accommodations,” Aegir muttered to Drystan. His voice lowered enough that no one nearby could hear them.

“But of course,” Drystan’s reply was a purr. “We’ll delay you no longer. Commence the ceremony.”

He tugged Lyra away from Aegir, and they took their positions behind the Tidal Master.

Was that how Drystan had achieved victory?

He gave Aegir the right to live in the palace, and in return, Aegir backed his coup?

Why couldn’t her father have done that?

“Very good,” Drystan growled low in her ear. “Keep this up, and you’ll have your voice back in no time.”

Lyra rolled her eyes.

“Listen to me, you’re not going to like any part of this ceremony.” The words sounded unfamiliar to her. He sounded like he were in pain. “But don that classic bored mask you always wear and we will survive it together.”

Lyra searched for any familiar faces. She spied her sisters and their husbands, Marina and her father, and what looked like her father’s new wife.

Seraphina floated alongside Ondine, and there were a few familiar-looking nobles dotting the crowd as well.

They all appeared the same, yet changed in a way she couldn’t pinpoint.