The walk back through the palace felt different.
Yesterday, these halls had been cold and curious, courtiers peering at her like a curiosity dragged in from the tide. Now they moved aside when she passed, bowing low or pressing their palms over their hearts in warding gestures. Some whispered blessings. Others whispered curses. The glow from Seri's skin was enough to make a few of them flinch, as though the little creature carried danger in its pulse.
Lira kept her chin high, but her legs trembled under the weight of their stares. Nerith walked close, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of her blade. Behind them, Kai's guards trailed like shadows.
Kai himself moved ahead, unhurried, every step echoing through the marble corridors. "You made quite an impression," he said without looking back.
"She didn't try," Nerith replied, her voice calm but sharp. "The sea chose her. That's not a performance."
"Perhaps," Kai murmured. "But the Courts will see her as one."
Lira frowned, but Nerith gave a small shake of her head. It wasn't a conversation meant for her yet.
They stopped at a tall door carved with pearl inlays. Kai gestured for Nerith to take her inside. "Rest her. She looks half-drowned."
"She was," Nerith said coolly.
Kai's lips curved, but not in amusement. "And yet she breathes."
He turned and strode away, guards falling into step behind him.
The chamber was dim and quiet, with a shallow pool of glowing water at its center. Nerith helped Lira sit on the pool's edge, untying her damp sash and rinsing salt from her arms. Seri uncurled from her wrist and slipped into the water, glowing faintly like a drifting lantern.
The warmth of the pool seeped into Lira's aching body, loosening the tension she hadn't realized she'd been carrying. Her hands shook, but she wasn't cold—just overwhelmed.
"I can still feel it," she whispered. "The heartbeat. Like it's still here."
Nerith knelt beside her, dipping her fingers into the water. "It is. The ocean doesn't touch you and then forget."
Lira's throat tightened. "It… spoke to me."
Nerith's gaze softened. "I know."
She didn't ask what it said. Somehow, that was a comfort.
Seri surfaced, curling around Lira's wrist again. Its glow shifted to a soft violet, and she felt calm wash over her like a slow tide. She stroked its smooth skin, marveling at the way its pulse synced to her own. "It feels… alive. More than alive. Like it knows things I don't."
"Companions always do," Nerith said softly.
A knock at the door.
Kai entered alone. No guards, no entourage—just him, all calm confidence. He moved closer, hands clasped loosely behind his back.
"You survived," he said, voice even.
Lira blinked. "Wasn't that the point?"
Kai's smile was faint, unreadable. "Few do."
He crouched in front of her, studying her with cool, assessing eyes. "Tell me," he said, voice low, "what did the sea whisper to you?"
Lira's breath hitched. She thought of the enormous eyes, the voice inside her skull, the weight of that ancient gaze. She shook her head. "Nothing I can explain."
Kai tilted his head. "Or nothing you'll share."
He stood, pacing a slow circle around the pool. "You should understand something, Lira. The Courts will not see you as a girl. They will see you as prophecy. A weapon. Or a threat."
"I'm not a weapon."
Kai looked over his shoulder at her, sharp as a knife's edge. "That won't matter."
Lira's hands clenched in her lap.
"I claimed you," he said softly. "That was the only way to keep you alive tonight. It doesn't mean you're safe."
Seri let out a soft hum, curling tighter around her arm.
Kai's gaze flicked to the creature. "Protect her well," he murmured, almost to Seri, before turning to leave. At the door, he glanced back. "The ocean may have chosen you, but here, I decide what that means."
The door closed behind him. Nerith let out a slow breath, then slammed her palm against the marble wall. The sound echoed through the chamber like a wave hitting rock.
"Do not trust him," she said, voice low but fierce.
Lira flinched. Nerith rarely sounded like that.
"He saved me."
"He claimed you," Nerith corrected. "He'll use that to control you."
"Why?"
"Because that's what rulers do." Nerith knelt in front of her, resting a hand gently over Lira's. "You're not ready for what's coming. But you will be."
There was something in her eyes then—old pain, sharp as coral. Lira didn't ask. She didn't need to.
Later, she wandered to the balcony. The lagoon glimmered under the moon, calm and impossibly beautiful, but the palace behind her buzzed with whispers. She could hear them drifting through open corridors: her name, the word prophecy, rumors of kingdoms beyond the surface already demanding answers.
Seri hummed softly against her wrist, and for a moment, she thought she felt an image in her mind—a flash of dark ships cutting through waves, sails marked with unfamiliar symbols. She shivered.
The world beyond this palace was moving. And it knew her name.