Page 60 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

“Time might move faster here, but aging doesn’t affect us the way it does above. Gravity is a destructive force for your kind. You live short lives, with hardly enough time to explore everything life has to offer,” Orion replies.

“So you’ve basically lived three of my lifetimes?” I ask.

“Give or take. Don’t worry, you are aging gracefully, for a land-dweller,” Nyxalene says, flashing a grin. It still holds her usual eeriness, but now that I know a piece of her past, it feels less intimidating.

“Are you also . . . eighty-four, Orion?” I ask, not sure if it’s appropriate.

“I’m ninety-six. Which equals out to—”

“Thirty-two,” I finish for him.

“In human years, yes,” he says. Nyxalene and he share a look, then let out a quiet, knowing laugh.

I cross my arms and roll my eyes. “How many more surprises are going to get thrown at me? I’m starting to have a hard time keeping up.”

“You've adjusted to everything well, so far,” Orion says as he glides closer to me.

Nyxalene just nods her head and makes her way out of the corridor. Not before she hollers at Orion, “Arrive with her beside you in about fifteen minutes outside the parlor room, Orion. Don't be late!”

“Oh, that’s right. The ceremony,” I mumble, almost forgetting the whole reason I returned down here, instead of staying within my room, hidden from the damage I've caused.

I can’t explain why hearing Nyxalene’s story helps me overlook what I just did earlier, but it does. And I am thankful for that.

“Yes, the ceremony—” Orion says, pausing after that, as if he might say more.

I look at him. Really look at him. Somehow, he looks different. He still holds himself high, as a king should. But something in his stare towards me feels . . . odd.

I’ve always been bad with reading signs of lust or longing, awful past relationships, and all that, but for some reason, I sort of feel that coming from him. Almost as if it's lingering in the space between us.

Orion continues to slowly inch closer, his eyes never leaving mine. If we were on land right now, I’d be sweating profusely.

I haven’t had a moment like this with a guy in months, before I even started the funding process for the expedition that led me to this mess.

“Sarah, can I be honest with you about something?”

Orion is practically on top of me, his height alone is the perfect intimidation tactic.

“You’re very close, Orion. What’s going on?”

He shifts nervously. “When I first met you at the doorway of your living space, I was there for one reason. To retrieve my father’s magic and return it to my kingdom, where it belonged. I believed it had fallen into the wrong hands. Human hands. But when I met you that day something changed. Slowly, of course. I wasn't sure at first that you were the one my father meant to receive the magic. Not until you read the scroll. And the message it carried, it rang through something deeper.” His voice softens. “Since then, I have watched you grow, adapt, and learn. But today, before the duel, I knew you were ready. Yet the worry stuck. Then you executed that final move. It was something I had never seen before. You made it work and let the ocean guide you. And when you struck—where you struck—all I felt afterward was shock and regret.”

“Why would you feel regret?” I ask, frowning. I hadn’t looked at Orion after I landed the strike on Defymin. I didn’t want my opponent to gain an edge for a counterattack. I couldn’t afford that risk.

Orion hesitates, his jaw tensing slightly. He doesn’t speak right away, but when he does, the words ring in my ears. “I can sense your emotions."

“S—sense my emotions? I don’t understand.”

“Well, actually, we both can. It's what happens with sea mates. We can mimic each other’s powers,” he says. "Normally, I'd be able to sense them anyway with my hydro-senses, but I haven't needed to since that day in the Trident Hall."

What the hell are sea mates? Mimic each other’s powers? Sense my emotions? I don’t know whether to be frustrated or confused—or both.

Before I can respond, a voice chimes across the dining hall. A Pearlguard pokes their head in and announces, “Your majesty, it is time.”

“You'll have to let me explain more when we have time, but for now, we have a ceremony to attend,” Orion says, cutting off our entire conversation like he didn’t just drop a reality-shattering revelation in my lap.

At the entrance to the parlor room, where the ceremony is set to be held, Orion gently grabs my hand and leads me to my position. His grip is steady. Reassuring. As if none of this is as messed up as it feels. He rattles off instructions, his tone shifting into that commanding, royal version of himself.

“Remain here until the Pearlguards open the doors. I will go first and make some opening remarks. When I say your name, the doors will open, and you will enter. Move slowly, but with purpose. Keep your posture firm. Show them your strength. I know today has been hard, but you won. That's all that should be on your mind right now.”