The Aquillian delegation arrived with the autumn storms, bringing with them Seraphina's formidable father, King Maris, and a dozen officials obsessed with mining rights and shipping lanes. A state visit was arranged, its centerpiece a symbolic dive to a historic reef site, showcasing the alliance between land and sea.
Hadrian, despite his terrestrial nature, was a competent diver. Seraphina, of course, was a creature of the water. The event was a carefully choreographed piece of political theater. They would descend together from the royal yacht, hand-in-hand, to place a ceremonial plaque on the seafloor.
As the divers suited up on the deck, the mood was tense. King Maris, a bear of a man with a beard like seaweed, clapped Hadrian on the back with force enough to stagger him.
"Show them the strength of our bond, boy! The sea and the stone, united!"
Seraphina avoided his eyes, checking her gauges with meticulous focus. Rian, part of the liaison team, was helping Freya with her own gear—she was to observe from a submersible. As Rian adjusted Freya's oxygen valve, his eyes flickered up, meeting Seraphina's across the deck. It was a glance of pure, unguarded concern. Are you alright?
Seraphina gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. I will be.
Hadrian saw it. The silent, intimate frequency that crackled between them, even here, surrounded by diplomats and roaring seas.
The descent was a surreal, blue-green dream. Sunlight filtered down in lazy columns. Fish, unconcerned with royalty, darted through schools of silver. Hadrian held Seraphina's rubber-gloved hand, the contact clinical, necessary for the cameras following them. Her face behind the mask was serene, in her element. He felt clumsy, an intruder in her world.
They reached the designated rock, the site of an ancient shipwreck that symbolized past conflicts overcome. Together, they secured the plaque—Lysterin's mountain crest beside Aquilla's wave. The official photographer, in full dive gear, gave a thumbs-up.
The scripted part was over.
As the photographer ascended, Seraphina let go of his hand. She pointed to a fissure in the rock, then swam towards it, beckoning him to follow. It was not part of the plan. Puzzled, he kicked after her.
The fissure opened into a small, hidden cavern, a cathedral of liquid light. And here, the reef was not dying. It was vibrant, explosive with color. Crimson sponges, violet corals, anemones like dancing flowers. A pair of seahorses drifted, tails entwined. It was a secret, thriving heart in the midst of a struggling sea.
Seraphina hovered in the center, turning slowly, her arms outstretched. Then she looked at him, and through the mask, her eyes were alive with a passion he hadn't seen directed at him in years. She pointed to the seahorses, to the improbable beauty of the place. See? the gesture said. See what remains? See what endures?
In that silent, aqueous space, for the first time in a long time, he felt he did see. He saw her. Not the Princess, the biologist, the partner in a power couple. He saw the woman who found solace in hidden, fragile beauty. He swam closer, wanting to reach for her, to communicate something, anything.
But the moment shattered. A shadow blocked the cavern entrance. It was Rian, having slipped away from the submersible. He gave an okay signal, checking on them. His presence was a bucket of cold water. Seraphina's posture changed immediately, from open wonder to something more contained. She gave Rian a wave, then pointed toward the exit, the tour over.
Back on the yacht, as they stripped off their gear, King Maris boomed his approval. "Magnificent! The pictures will be perfect!"
Seraphina, wrapped in a thick blanket, smiled her public smile. "There was a beautiful cavern off the main site. I showed Hadrian."
"Splendid!" the King said, already turning to a minister.
Rian approached, handing Seraphina a steaming mug. "Thought you could use this. The current was stronger than forecast."
"Thank you," she said, her voice soft. "It was fine. We saw the paired Hippocampus reidi. A good omen."
"For the mining negotiations, let's hope so," Rian replied with a light smile, but his eyes held that same depth of understanding.
Hadrian stood apart, salt water drying on his skin, feeling more alien than ever. He had been granted a glimpse into his wife's soul, a private tour of the secret, surviving cavern of her heart. And the moment had been chaperoned—and ultimately ended—by the very man who haunted the romantic void between them. The dive had been meant to symbolize unity. Instead, it had revealed the profound, three-dimensional geometry of their disconnect. He had touched the depths with her, only to find someone else already there, waiting in the shadows, offering a towel and a warm drink.