Standing, I walked across the room, pressing my forehead to the cool glass, my mother’s prayer beads glinting in a stray sunbeam.Nymphaea brought you to Naiadon to be saved.Morvyn had been sincere when he said it. Hylos seemed to believe it too. What if it was true? What if the Guardians had saved me from my awful fate?
Fish darted in and out of beams of sunlight, snapping in silver, yellow, and orange.
No. That was a ridiculous thought. No Guardians would save me. I was nothing. No one. Title-less. Powerless. Born of a dead woman, her name struck from history. No Guardian had saved her. Such things did not happen.
Then there was the captain and his crew. They needed to be saved. No Guardians would do that either. Sure, the sirens were kind to me, but I could only imagine the nature of the crew’s confinement from the manner in which they treated Arlo even in my presence. How maltreated was he when I wasn’t there to defend him?
I knew what I had to do. Save Arlo and his crew, and warn my father of what was below the seas. Save my country. Even if it would never save me.
A rap on my door pulled me from thought. I opened it and Lumina’s stunning face radiated back. “Hylos wishes for you to attend the deipnon tonight.”
“The what?” I asked.
She was dressed in a flowing yellow gown, her hair braided high above her head, with flecks of gold painted on her cheeks into her hairline.
“A deipnon. It is a social gathering where we eat and drink, then afterward all guests come together for what we call a symposion. It is a meeting of minds, accompanied by drinks, music—”
“Got it.” I stopped her. “Like a feast.”
“Yes, like a feast of sorts. Will you attend?” she questioned.
Hylos had said the night before that he planned to discuss Oakhaven at this very event. If I attended, then I could learn about his plans and tell my father that information as well.
“Yes, I will go.”
“Very good.” She walked past me into the bedchamber, two sirens trailing behind her. “You will need to be dressed appropriately.”
“Sure, come on in,” I said under my breath.
I sat on an ottoman across from the large, gold-filigreed mirror in the bathing chambers as the two Sirens pulled and brushed my hair and painted my face. They trilled with a song they passed back and forth over my head.
One siren with long swaths of violet hair painted my eyes jewel-blue with a delicate hand, and with a tacky substance placed small gems across my nose and cheeks over my freckles.
The other siren, her skin, eyes, and hair all a pale yellow, frowned as she attempted to tame my riotous red curls with elaborate plaits that pulled at my scalp. She wove them into a larger braid that swung behind my back.
“It may seem a bitpompous,” Lumina explained, “but it is fitting in siren culture to dress in this manner. We take pride in colors and show. We believe it honors the great Mother to emulate the variety of colors she paints her people and her ocean.”
I thought my hair and makeup at my father’s court was extensive, but this was a whole other level.
When they finished, I slipped into the dress Lumina selected for me. The fabric was gorgeous, like liquid-blue sapphires, vivid against my pale skin. The style was revealing, with a large slit in the skirt that revealed my pale legs. But it was stunning. I maneuvered the fabric to hide my curves.
Looking in the mirror, I saw the woman who peered back was completely transcendent.
“Yes.” Lumina nodded, looking in the mirror with me. “This will do.”
As we made our way to the deipnon, I paused, looking up past the glass arching overhead. Large creatures floated through the midnight waters, their forms glowing with a pale light, ruffling across the black water like hundreds of moons phasing through the night sky.
“The sirens call them jellyfish,” Lumina said, noting my wonder. “Incredible creatures, despite being so unusual. They’re quite beautiful.”
They were beautiful and unusual, as everything appeared to be below the sea.
“Have you enjoyed the books I’ve asked the servants to leave you?” Lumina asked.
“You’re the one leaving them for me?” I questioned, looking at her sidelong.
“Yes. They are not my usual reading material; I prefer nonfiction, but I thought stories from your land would help you adjust better. Books were a comfort to me when I first arrived at Naiadon. They allowed me to make heads and tails of this strange new world.”
Her finned hands twined at the front of her waist as we walked. “At first I was afraid, too. Most are. But up there …” she pointed above. She meant past the glass ceiling, past the expansive sea, and up on land. “There was only unhappiness for me.”
