Amanti stepped forward, chin high. “My king, they?—”
“Don’t speak for them,” he cut in sharply. “Not until your debt is paid to me.”
“Consider it paid tonight,” she said. “With our help, your people remain safe, despite your refusal to join this war.”
Patamoi’s eyes glinted. “And yet a war found us.”
Daegel shifted beside me as if readying his shield. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Thorne scanned the empty alcoves for signs of another attack. Keres stood rigid behind Rydian, glaring outright at the king.
I ignored them all and stepped forward. “Your Majesty, you saw what happened tonight. You heard Heliconia’s voice as she spoke through one of your own people. A naiad she corrupted before we ever arrived Beneath.”
Patamoi’s expression hardened. “She sent a parasite. Nothing more. My realm has endured worse things than the Ice Queen’s tantrums.”
“She’s not throwing tantrums,” I said, my patience a fraying thread. “She’s amassing power, building armies, infiltrating our courts.”
He descended from the dais, trident dragging faintly across the glass floor. The scrape echoed. “You speak as if you fear her.”
“If you don’t fear what she could become, you should.”
A flicker of movement—Amanti’s hand pressed warningly to my arm.
Patamoi stood before me. “You presume much, flame-born.”
His word struck me, and I realized belatedly that he’d seenmy furyfire firsthand tonight. That meant he’d likely sensed its source—and knew it hadn’t come from Summer’s magic.
Nothing to be done about it now.
“I only ask that you protect your people,” I said, lowering my voice. “You think the depths make you safe? They only make you isolated.”
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Nali broke the silence. “Father?—”
“Enough.” His tone cracked through the chamber.
She fell silent, jaw tight.
Patamoi’s gaze returned to me. “Tell me, flame-born, where does your power come from? It is not mortal craft. No fae magic burns so bright.”
I hesitated only a breath. Lying to him felt pointless. “It’s a gift,” I said. “From the gods.”
A ripple went through the guards. Even my friends went still. Rydian included. The tattoo on my throat practically pulsed with awareness now.
Patamoi’s brows lifted. “So the stories are true. Your gods still meddle in our affairs, hoping we’ll aid them in their own power struggles.” He looked to Rydian then, eyes narrowing. “Do they still favor your kingdom to the destruction of all others?”
“I can’t speak for the gods,” Rydian told him quietly. “But my kingdom stands with yours. If you’ll do the same.”
The king studied him for a beat longer, expression shifting from curiosity to recognition—the kind that made my stomach knot.
Finally, he turned back to me. “A match forged of darkness and destruction,” he murmured. “A dangerous balance to bring beneath my waves. Perhaps the gods think themselves clever.”
“I don’t presume to know what the gods think,” I told him honestly.
“Wise of you.” He leaned on his trident, gaze sharp as the tide. “Their games often end in ruin for the players.”
Amanti stepped forward again. “We ask only for a clear path as we leave you in peace.”
Patamoi’s gaze snapped to her. “You will not leave.”
