The Sea King

by C. L. Wilson

  Dilys stared hard at his cousin. “She didn’t ask me.”

  Ryll did not wilt. “You were still in your room. A royal princess is hardly likely to come knocking at her suitor’s bedchamber door.”

  “You know, Dilys,” Ari drawled, his eyes alight with mischief, “for a man who spent more than one evening on the voyage from Calberna telling us how little the Princess Summer would suit you, you’ve certainly got your shuma in a knot thinking she might be interested in Ryll instead.” He cast a pointed glance at Dilys’s hands and raised his brows.

  Dilys grimaced. “I am merely surprised she has taken such a liking to Ryll.”

  “Thank you,” Ryll said dryly.

  Dilys grimaced. “I didn’t mean it like that. Any woman would be lucky to be your liana.” He was being ridiculous. Stung pride aside, Summer’s obvious fear of him and marked preference for his cousin should have suited him perfectly.

  Does suit him perfectly, he corrected himself sternly. In fact, if Ryll had a chance to win Princess Summer, Dilys shouldn’t stand in the way.

  Dilys took a deep breath and forced himself to do the generous thing. “This,” he said, showing his claws, “is just instinct, not claiming.” To prove it, he forced his claws to retract. It took considerable effort—far more effort than it should have—but the sharp, obsidian talons slowly drew back into the sheaths behind his nailbeds. “There you see?” No mature Calbernan male gave up a coveted prize without a fight. Especially not when it came to potential lianas. If he’d truly meant to stake his claim, his claws wouldn’t have sheathed until he’d won. That they kept pressing against his fingertips was something Dilys was determined to ignore.

  “The Queen’s Council and I all agreed that of the three sisters, Princess Summer was the least likely to suit me. She is beautiful, of course, and seems as gentle and sweet-natured as all reports of her professed. But the liana I wed will have fire in her soul, like her sister Khamsin and the other two Seasons. She will, seas and stars willing, mother our next queen.”

  “You are seriously not interested?” Ari pressed.

  “Not at all,” Dilys lied. He was plenty interested. What man worth his salt wouldn’t be? But he had been sent to choose the strongest princess to be his bride. Summer Coruscate didn’t fit that bill. She was not the one he’d come for. He would not pursue her.

  And he would keep his claws sheathed no matter how ferociously Summer’s obvious preference for Ryll stung him.

  “So then it wouldn’t bother you at all to hear that Myerialanna Summer also asked Ryll what it means when a Calbernan’s ulumi glow blue?” Ari asked.

  And sproing! went the claws again. Dilys curled his hands into fists to hide them. She had asked Ryll about Calbernan mating rituals? A shudder went through him, as hazy images from his dreams flashed across his mind. The blue phosphorescence of glowing ulumi. Golden eyes burning in the darkness of night-shrouded waters. Fire tingling across every nerve of his body. And a Voice singing softly, calling to him . . .

  The vision winked out as Ryll shoved Ari hard enough to send him stumbling into Dilys. “Storms sink you, Calmyria! Quit making it sound like I’m after his princesses!” Turning to Dilys, Ryll held out his hands, palms up in entreaty. “It’s nothing like he’s making it out to be, Dilys. Our paths crossed by accident. She said she’s been reading up on Calbernans so she could teach the village children about us before our arrival. She teaches at the queen’s new public school in town. Anyway, she said she’d come across mention of glowing ulumi and wondered what the significance was. And I told her if she was curious about it, she should talk to you.” He said the last through gritted teeth, glaring at Ari as he did.

  Ari, the unrepentant mischief maker, just grinned and said, “And yet you were the one she chose to ask, not Dilys.” He laughed and danced away from the fist Ryll swung in his direction. “I’m just saying!”

  Usually, Dilys would have found Ari’s antics amusing and shrugged the jabs off with a laugh and a smile. Teasing between males was common during the early stages of Calbernan courtships, as was good-natured one-upmanship as they vied for a woman’s attention—especially if the woman had not yet made her preference known. Things didn’t get serious until a Calbernan’s ulumi glowed blue, meaning liakapua—the mating ritual—had begun in earnest. Once that happened, not even Ari would have dared to tease Dilys the way he was doing. Because to a Calbernan male in liakapua, even lighthearted teasing could be interpreted as a challenge, and all too often, challenges at such a time sparked brutal battles for dominance. Considering that Calbernan males were armed with razor-sharp battle fangs and claws, such battles usually ended in serious injury or death.

  But Dilys’s ulumi had not glowed blue. He was not in liakapua.

  Which is why it made no sense that Dilys was currently fighting the urge to go for Ryll’s throat.

  “That’s enough, Ari,” Dilys said a few moments later, after beating back the savage impulse to cause Ryll bodily harm. “You’ve had your fun, so leave poor Ryll alone. And to answer your question, no, I’m not in the least bit bothered that Myerialanna Summer feels more comfortable with Ryll than she does with me, or that she chose him to ask about our ulumi. You know why I’m here. You know what I’m looking for in a wife. And you know she is not it. Put it this way,” he summed up, determined to put an end Ari’s teasing, “Princess Summer is a soothing cup of milked tea, but I’m thirsty for a strong Summerlean fire brandy. For hospitality’s sake, I will court her as I do her sisters for these first two weeks, but after that, if Ryll wants her, he should feel free to pursue her.”

  They turned the corner and nearly collided with two of the Seasons: Spring, majestic in cool iced blue, and Summer, looking delectably feminine in deep, soft rose.

  Momentary concern flitted across Dilys’s conscience. The two princesses had to have overheard him. His only saving grace was that he and his cousins had been speaking in Sea Tongue, the language of Calberna, rather than the common tongue, Eru. Hopefully, the princesses of Summerlea had not understood him.

  Spring smiled with regal grace, nothing in her expression indicating that she’d comprehended Dilys’s dismissal of her sister as “milked tea” or the too-casual way he’d offered her up to his cousin for courtship. “Sealord Merimydion. Sealord Calmyria. Sealord Ocea. Good morning.”

  “Good morning, Sealords.” Summer offered shy smiles to Ari and Ryll, and a more forced one to Dilys. Her gaze never rose higher than his chin and quickly skittered away. Her cheeks turned a dusky rose. And despite his determination not to pursue her, that charming blush roused every protective and covetous male instinct he possessed.

  His battle claws threatened to spring forth again, so he forced his gaze back to Spring. Tall, cool, beautiful Spring, who even after a long night of celebration and precious few hours’ sleep held herself like a queen. He could easily see her sitting on their daughter’s Queen’s Council, offering advice, guiding their daughter with wisdom and strength.

  “You three are up early,” Spring continued. “That is quite rare for folk unused to a Wintercraig celebration. We didn’t expect to see all of you up and about until at least noon.”

  “Calbernans require very little sleep,” Ryll informed her.

  Ari’s stomach rumbled. “What we do require, however, is rather a lot of food.” He accompanied the words with such a pleadingly hopeful look that shy Summer actually laughed.

  The sound was light and musical, like the wind chimes that blew in the ocean breeze outside Dilys’s bedroom back home. Dilys’s scalp tingled, and the ropes of his hair coiled tight at the sound of Summer Coruscate’s laugh.

  “We were just going down to breakfast ourselves,” she told Ari with a smile. “We will be happy to show you the way.”

  Ryll and Ari immediately took up her invitation, moving into position beside her so swiftly she laughed again, looped her arms through their proffered ones, and started down the stairs. Aware of Spring’s cool, watchful gaze upon h
im, Dilys smoothed away the crease between his brows, summoned his most charming smile, and held out an arm in offer of escort to the woman who very well might be the future mother of his children.

  The five of them made their way downstairs to a banquet hall not far from the garden terrace used for the feast and dancing last night. The banquet hall was large and ornate and had already been set up with three long tables laden with food, including chilled, marinated meats and vegetables, smoked salmon, and a variety of hot foods served in silver chafing dishes. Dozens of dining tables had been placed all around the room to allow Konumarr’s visitors to dine and converse in smaller groups.

  “Please, help yourself to the buffet.” Spring gestured to the tables overflowing with food, while Summer went to speak with one of the servants attending the breakfast guests.

  “My apologies, Sealord,” Spring said, calling his attention back to her. “Summer, Autumn, and I won’t be joining you this morning. We thought you would still be abed, so we have a previous breakfast engagement.”

  “You will be missed, Myerialanna Spring,” he replied sincerely. “I thoroughly enjoyed your company at last night’s festivities. I hope we shall see more of one another later today?”

  “I’m sure that we shall. Ah, here is water for you.” The servant Summer had spoken to earlier approached the table, carrying a tray of filled glasses. “Lightly salted, as you prefer your first morning beverage.”

  Dilys smiled. “You have studied our ways.”

  “My sisters and I all have. We thought it only prudent.”

  The servant placed the first glass before Ari, who took an experimental sip, nodded his approval, and tossed back the entire glass. Ryll followed suit.

  “Enjoy your breakfast, Sealords,” Spring murmured with a smile as Dilys curled his hand around the small water glass and gulped it down.

  His eyes went wide. His salted water wasn’t water.

  Dilys choked and sputtered, eyes watering, as the potent glass of pure, crystal-clear, Summerlean fire brandy he’d just unwittingly gulped down scorched the lining of his throat.

  “Oh, dear,” Spring said with an exceedingly credible expression of surprise. Then she ruined it with a smile, and a too sweet, “Was that not to your liking, Sealord Merimydion? One moment. Let me get you something soothing.” She waved over another servant and whispered in his ear. A moment later, the servant returned with a tea service. Spring filled the cup half-way with tea, then poured a generous portion of milk, and handed the milked tea to Dilys. In perfectly accented Sea Tongue, she said, “There, you are. Milked tea. Drink that down. It’s sure to make you feel better. And now, if you’ll forgive me. I’m already running late. Please, Sealords, do enjoy your breakfast. Our salmon is, in fact, quite excellent. But for you three, I recommend the dogfish. Or perhaps some roasted boar’s ass would suit you better.” She offered a last, syrupy smile, and sailed away, disappearing after her sister Summer through a door on the far side of the room.

  Dilys, with one last cough to clear his scorched throat and windpipe, leaned back in his chair and roared with appreciative laughter.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about, my friends! Gods, what a woman!”

  “Insufferable, arrogant ass!” Summer scowled and paced the parqueted wooden floor of the empty ballroom that connected to the banquet hall. “The nerve of him, pawning me off on his cousin, as if I’m some . . . some . . . some booby prize to be regifted to his friends!”

  “Calm yourself, darling.” Spring wrapped an arm around Summer’s shoulders. “I didn’t think you liked him anyway. You spent the whole of last night avoiding him, after all.”

  Summer flushed. She hadn’t meant to be quite so obvious about avoiding him at the welcome celebration, but after the shocking way she’d responded to just one simple look, she’d been running scared. And considering what had happened later down by the fjord, she’d been right to do so.

  “I don’t like him,” she lied with perfect credibility. “Or rather, I don’t like him for me. You or Autumn would doubtless be a much better match for him.”

  “So, you should consider his lack of interest a good thing, then.” Spring chucked a finger under Summer’s chin and regarded her with a too-observant green gaze. “It is a good thing, isn’t it, Gabriella?”

  “Of course it is! It’s just that . . . oh!” She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. “I think I’m more prideful than I ever knew. No man has ever been quite so blatant about finding me lacking before.” Even though she’d Persuaded him to forget her, to believe she wasn’t the right woman for him, she hadn’t Persuaded him to compare her to something as insipid as milked tea! As ridiculous as she knew it to be, that stung! Especially since what little sleep she’d managed to get last night had been plagued by the disturbing dreams of Dilys Merimydion floating in a dark sea, his body illuminated with phosphorescent-blue tattoos, his golden eyes glowing bright, his hands outstretched—to her. And all the while, a voice had been singing a wordless song of such terrible longing that she’d awakened to a tear-stained pillow, clenched fists, and a painful, aching emptiness inside her.

  “I’m afraid Dilys Merimydion’s dismissal of my charms has put quite an unattractive dent in my vanity,” she confessed.

  “He’s a pig and a fool,” Viviana said stoutly, positioning herself firmly in the Defense of Summer camp. “And I wish I’d been the one to think of switching his salted water for Summerlean fire brandy. That is what you had served to him, wasn’t it?”

  Summer bit her lip and nodded.

  “Ha! I thought so! Once I realized what you’d done, I served him a cup of milked tea!”

  Summer’s mouth fell open.

  “Oh, and they know we speak Sea Tongue—or at least they know I do. I made sure to speak it when I suggested they give the dogfish or some roasted boar’s ass a try this morning.”

  A bark of shocked laughter spilled out without warning. Gabriella clapped a swift hand over her mouth to stifle it and cast a nervous glance towards the closed door to the dining room. She’d met enough prideful foreign princes over the years to know that they didn’t take kindly to being laughed at—especially not after being pranked. “You didn’t!”

  “Indeed I did. That’s the least of what he deserved.” Spring looped her arm through Summer’s. “Come on, little sister. Let’s go get some breakfast.”

  “You go on ahead,” Gabriella said. “I need to make a quick stop. I think one of my garters is coming undone.”

  “All right, but don’t be long.” Spring kissed Gabriella’s cheek and headed out to the terrace where the rest of their family was waiting.

  The moment Spring was out of sight, Summer spun on her heel and headed for the nearest garderobe as quickly as she could manage without drawing attention to herself. No one crossed her path, which was good. Her hold on her customary serene mask was tenuous at best.

  Once she was alone, the door to the well-appointed relief chamber closed and locked behind her, even that shaky mask fell away. She slumped against the wall and covered her face with her hands.

  “Sweet Helos, Gabriella! What is wrong with you? Switching his water for fire brandy! Were you deliberately trying to unravel the Persuasions you put on him last night?”

  If Spring hadn’t realized what Summer had done and acted so quickly, Dilys Merimydion’s suspicions would have been drawn to Summer—the one who’d had a private word with the servant who’d brought the “water” to the Calbernan’s table. If that had happened—if he’d seen shy Summer acting so out of character from the timid, “milked tea” image he had fixed in his mind—the surprise would have loosened the ties binding his memories.

  And since the Calbernans had apparently detected the strong push of Persuasion she’d used on Dilys last night—a little fact Ryllian Ocea had let slip earlier this morning, when she’d run into him in the gardens—there would be no way to rebind those memories without drawing the attention of every Calbernan in Konumarr.

 
; Knowing the Calbernans had detected the strong Persuasion she’d put on Dilys was troubling, to say the least. Thankfully, they seemed as oblivious to basic Persuasion as everyone else. Certainly, Ryllian hadn’t seemed to notice the soothing, “You can tell me anything. Your secrets are safe with me,” whispers she’d been using on him this morning when she’d tried to pump him for information. And although he’d had no trouble resisting her push when she’d asked about glowing blue tattoos, he wasn’t immune to her gifts. That he’d told her about the strong push of Persuasion the Calbernans had all detected last night proved that.

  Still, in retrospect, asking Dilys’s cousin about glowing blue tattoos was its own special brand of stupid. If he mentioned her inquiry to Dilys, it could undermine her Persuasions as surely as letting Dilys see her acting out of character. She’d only attempted it because sometime during the long, restless, insomnia-laden hours of the night she’d come to the staggeringly brilliant conclusion that Dilys Merimydion must have worked some sort of secret Calbernan magic on her to make her want him so badly.

  Now, she realized how ridiculous those suspicions were. Dilys’s “milked tea” remark made it humiliatingly obvious that without the force of whatever had passed between them last night clouding his judgment, he wasn’t even remotely interested in her! He’d offered her up to his cousins, for Halla’s sake!

  The sound of sizzling yanked her out of her agitated thoughts, and not a moment too soon. All the scented water left out for guests to wash their hands had boiled away. The rose petals that had been floating on the water’s surface were now crisped bits of char at the bottom of the empty bowl, and the air in the room was hot and dry. A few minutes more, and the room would have burst into flame.

  Horrified, Summer clamped down hard on her magic.

  She’d very nearly lost control—something that hadn’t happened in almost twenty years. And considering how many layers upon layers of binding spells and controls she’d spent a lifetime constructing and strengthening to keep her magic suppressed, no stupid offhand remark Dilys made to his cousins—no matter how hurtful—should have been able to rip through her shields so effortlessly.