“Is this... an aquarium?” Muzo breathed.
“You could say that,” I agreed.
Muzo stepped closer to the glass, then paused. “Can I touch it?”
“Yes.”
He placed his hand on the tank. Dappled light reflected off his face. His eyes shined bright with wonder. Just past the glass, huge strands of kelp slow-danced in the water. Little shrimp dug in the sandy substrate. Pencil-sized silver fish swam by in schools, and other tiny particles of life floated by.
Muzo was strangely silent.
I felt apprehensive waiting for his response. Was he entranced? Or was he trying to think of something nice to say?
It wasn’t a conventional dragon hoard. I knew that. That was why I kept it to myself. It meant too much to me to bring up in conversations for fear of ridicule. I’d rather keep it a secret than open myself up to negativity.
But Muzo was my fated mate. I cared about his opinion more than anybody else’s—and if I couldn’t tell my fated mate about my hoard, whocouldI tell?
“My brothers have never seen my hoard,” I said quietly. “You’re the only person I’ve allowed in here.”
Muzo didn’t turn around. “Just me?” he asked quietly.
I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat. “Yes.”
He didn’t say anything else. He just stared into the water.
I clutched my chest. This feeling wasn’t wrong. Muzowasmy fated mate. But that didn’t mean he’d love my hoard the same way I did. He was his own person, with his own opinions. He could’ve hated water for all I knew.
With a flash of shame, I remembered that Muzo nearly drowned earlier. Was his silence from fear? Was bringing him here a mistake?
“I’m sorry, Muzo,” I said hurriedly. “I shouldn’t have—”
“I remember this place,” Muzo said softly.
I froze.
What did he mean by that? He’d never been in this chamber before. That was a fact. Since my brothers weren’t allowed here either, there was no way photos of it could’ve leaked.
As my mind raced with doubts and questions, Muzo turned around. Tears wet his eyes, but he didn’t look sad.
“I’ve seen this before,” Muzo insisted.
That was impossible.
Yet something in his expression gave me pause. There was a nostalgic lustre in his gaze.
He wasn’t lying about this.
I walked closer, standing by his side at the tank, then asked, “How?”
Muzo blinked at the kelp before letting out a long, deep sigh, like he’d been holding his breath for ages.
“Y’know how I lost my apartment and my job?” he asked.
I ground my teeth remembering the world’s cruelty to him, but didn’t interrupt. I nodded.
“Even though all that bad stuff happened, it was okay. I knew it’d work out in the end,” Muzo chirped.
I couldn’t comprehend that. I was lucky to have never experienced such hardship, but when I put myself in his shoes, I felt nothing but dread. Where did one go when they had nothing?
