I noticed the maidens watching me beneath blushes I had not seen from them before. Did they know something I didn’t? Had Callie even turned up? I wonder if I can blame her if she runs. Probably not. I’ve had half a millennium to prepare and I’m still not ready. I sigh and look down at my watch. Not one for ever wearing watches before, I had found it in the pocket of the robe I had asked Georgia to deposit, a gift for the coronation from a human. I remember the inscription on the underside of the face now. ‘A show of thanks for your sacrifice. The sacrifice for all time.’ I tap the face again. Can that really be the time? It’s so late? Why isn’t she here? I wonder if this is similar to how I’ll feel waiting for her to come down the aisle. God I hope not.
I hear a cough as I’m absorbed in the ticking hands on the dark blue face and my head snaps up. I back away from the railing and stand in the centre of the moss runner as Marina stands at the head of the staircase in a torrent of scarlet silk with a knowing smile and flushed cheeks. What the hell is everyone so flustered about?
“Your Highness… Your Queen,” she says the words in a simple breathless gush, stepping aside as the two double doors at the top of the staircase which lead to the salon open wide. Callie steps forward out of the dim light and into the glare of the chandelier. I do a double take and feel the hairs rise on the back of my head. Oh… my…Goddess.
She stands, a sparkling, shining, shimmering edifice of beauty. Everything I have waited for. The dress, worth every penny, is a ball-gown like no other. Midnight blue silk makes up a sleeveless, diamond embedded bustier bodice before pinching in at her miniscule waist. The skirt poofs outward in a waterfall of light, each of the gossamer layers of dark weightless net are covered in hand-sewn diamonds, hundreds if not thousands of diamonds at every layer, the very embodiment of the weight which she is about to bear with me. The weight of the sorrow of our people. She does not seem phased by such responsibility, but rather wears it as her crowning glory covering her from head to foot in a galaxy of tear shine. She is beaming, her blonde hair falling in angel curls around her shoulders, pinched back into a thick curled cascade with more diamonds clinging to each ringlet subtly. Her arms are clad in white silk elbow length gloves that make her skin glow like the moon and the aquamarines of her eyes shine. I sigh outward. It is no wonder she was destined to be a Goddess. She is too good for this world.
She descends the staircase, not walking but gliding beneath the layers of fabric, her bedazzled high-heeled shoes peeping from the skirt at playful intervals.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late,” she whispers to me, looking through thick black lashes.
“You look…” The words fail me under the thrall of her perfection.
“Yes?” She looks at me too seriously. As if I could possibly utter a marring remark. The dark red of her lips making me want to possess her, wade through a galaxy of diamonds to find her bare and waiting.
“Transcendent.” The word is not enough. I am stunned and shocked to my core. Any man may call me shallow but that was because he had never seen such a godly beauty walking toward him, reaching out to touch his mere mortal flesh.
“It’s just make up. I’m still me underneath.” She giggles touching her white gloved hand to her red lips self-consciously. I don’t have a response. I just stand watching her. I kiss her cheek.
“That dress… worth every penny.” I find myself having trouble putting my words in order. Pull it together man!
“You still haven’t told me exactly how many pennies though.”
“Well… real diamonds cost.” I look her in the eye and she gasps slightly.
“Real? These are real diamonds? I thought these were like… diamantes. Are you nuts!?” She looks at me with horror and I shrug. It’s hard for me to even think about arguing against her. Her looks have reduced my brain power to nil.
“It’s a special night,” I reply and she narrows her eyes.
“I’m going to be having words with you about this later.” She rolls her eyes and kisses me on the cheek, wiping away the lipstick residue as Marina descends behind her. Poor Marina, I had forgotten she was even there. Callie completely overtook my field of vision.
“Come on you two. We have a coronation to get to. Wait until you see what I’ve done with the décor!” She sounds upbeat and excitable, just like everyone else. I wonder if it’s novelty, or the spectacle and the grandeur. Then again, what do I know about grandeur, I just spent six figures on a ring the size of a quarter. “It’s time,” Marina nods with a large smile as we move toward the double doors and I hear our names being announced behind the thick mahogany. I shuffle in my midnight blue suit and correct my aqua silk tie, shaking out my legs as I feel nerves clutch at me. I take Callie on my arm, push my back poker straight so it strains across the tapering of my suit and breathe, standing tall like a male peacock in mating season. The doors open and, with a Goddess on one arm, I step forward into the light.
CALLIE
The double doors swing forward and Orion and I move into the light. My feet step onto an icy blue runner, speckled with silver, and mer stand on either side of me, lining our path. Orion is holding my hand, which is looped through his arm, like his life depends on it. I know deep down he’s scared, I am too.
Marina wasn’t wrong when she had told me, while binding me into my dress that, much like my attire, no expense had been spared when it came to the ceremony. The ballroom has been stripped of its usual burgundy and gold trim and replaced with platinum and glacial pastel blues, the colour of Orion’s eyes. I can’t help but wonder if that’s why she chose the colour. Maybe I’m not the only one who has noticed how distinctive they are. Eyes follow us as an eerie hush settles over the room before, in a stroke of pure elegance, a half orchestra begins to play some song I’ve never heard before. As the song progresses we move, step by painful step, along the frosty velvet path, heading toward the stage at the head of the large dancefloor. Two silver thrones sit, side by side, the arched tops looking like they’ve been constructed from silver coral. Behind them comes a familiar face, one I had not expected to see and I turn to Orion, wide eyed with a gentle comforting happiness. He smiles back as Shaniqua stands before us in robes of lime green, beaming and genteel.
“Shaniqua is here?” I whisper to him and he nods slightly, acting ventriloquist to an invisible dummy, trying to keep his lips unmoving.
“Yes. She’s performing the ceremony.”
“I’m glad she came,” I whisper again, pretending to cough to cover my mouth, meeting the eyes of the vast crowds that fill the entire room. I hadn’t realised there were so many mer I hadn’t met before. I guess some only come on land for special occasions. I look past a man with violet eyes and silver hair slicked back against his skull like an eighties rocker, his cheekbones defiantly protrusive against his pale white skin, trying to spot Sophia but I can’t see her. She said she would try to be here, but I guess she couldn’t talk Oscar into leaving the ocean. We reach the stage and climb as Shaniqua bows to me and I return, pulling the sparkling tresses of my skirt up slightly and crossing my ankles. Orion lifts his right fist over his heart and she curtsies back, her lime robes unmoving in stiff silk.
“Please… kneel,” she commands us and so I bend my knees beneath me, my skirt pooling around me in a puddle of crystal droplets.
“We gather here today to anoint these two people in the salt of the sea. To place on their shoulders, the weight of its beating waves, and the pleasures of the life held within. To charge to them the sole responsibility of the protection of this realm from within the depths of the ocean, an ancient responsibility and one which is not bestowed lightly,” Shaniqua speaks clearly and I can tell she’s broken. Her voice lacks the lustre it had once spilled. My knees are beginning to ache as I keep my head bowed toward the ice blue of the carpet and feel eyes in their hundreds baring into my spine. I see Shaniqua’s feet move briskly and then feel her sprinkling what I assume to be salt water. I shudder as the droplets trickle over me.
&
nbsp; “Please rise,” I hear her command and so I get to my feet. In her hands she holds an orb and a sceptre. The objects are new to me, I have never seen them before but they call to me, dying to be held in my hands. The orb is a giant moon-like white pearl, surrounded in a spherical cage of platinum and diamonds. The sceptre is platinum too, with hundreds of pearls spiralling around its length. Orion lets go of my hand, letting my silken clad fingers fall through his and takes the objects in his palms, clutching them clumsily. I watch him stumble and something within me sighs, wondering what they would feel like in my palms. I shake my head subtly, trying to disband the thought. I am not power hungry. Shaniqua nods and we turn to face the crowd.
“Repeat after me, Orion,” she whispers, breathless and husky behind us. I wonder if she’s tearing up. “I, Orion, the Hunter.”
“I, Orion, the Hunter,” Orion repeats and I wonder about the title. Since when had he been a hunter?
“Solemnly vow to uphold the values and protection of the people of this world and any other whom may look to those blessed by the Goddess for help. To place those needs of my people before those of myself and to understand that my life and death belong to the service and wellbeing of my Goddess and her mission on earth.” I look over at Orion after hearing the part about death. I wonder if he’s thinking about me. I place my gloved hands on top of my skirt and look down. In the crowd I spot Sophia’s eyes, finally, watching me widely. In front of her is the silver haired man I had seen on my entrance. His eyes are burning an intense lilac and he’s staring at me like he’s fighting internally about something. His cheek bones are prominent as his mouth twists and he sucks in air. His left eyebrow sports a slash on the outer side and I wonder why I haven’t seen him before. Surely I would remember such a face. Orion has finished repeating his vow and I stand, a spare part to the Crowned Ruler, but not spared the scrutiny of his people. We both have been walked through this ceremony a hundred times before in the small council meetings so I know what comes next.
We turn in unison and take our seats in the two silver thrones in the centre of the stage. The throne isn’t as comfortable as you’d expect, it’s hard and cold, requiring me to sit up at an acute angle, pushing my spine straight. Shaniqua comes forward with something ornate between her long elegant fingers. My tiara. It’s small and threaded with shells, diamonds, and pearls intricately. She bows slightly and nestles it between the curls that were so lovingly placed, diamonds clinging to them, into a braid which pulls them to the base of my neck where they fall down over my shoulders and back. Shaniqua rises and smiles at me, a knowing look of something sentimental flashing behind the limes of her irises. I smile back at her and look over to Orion. His eyes ground me, making me appreciate how far I’ve come. From just an American teen struggling to pass chemistry, I’m now being crowned Queen over an aquatic city of merfolk. Not bad for less than six months when you think about it. Orion is crowned, the platinum crown of faux seaweed metal curling through his tousles, interrupting their steady wildness. Shaniqua bows to us as Orion holds the orb and sceptre in both hands and sits, head back against the substantial height of his throne, legs crossed in cocky reserve. I slant my lips in disapproval but then look at him, really look at him, before realising he has relaxed. I relax slightly too as Shaniqua turns.
“I present to you, blessed ones, his Highness, King Orion the Hunter, and his other half, Queen Callie, the vessel.” Shaniqua practically sings these words and we rise together to our titles, to our obligations. Orion still holding his symbols of power and me folding my hands daintily in my skirt. The room bows before us, a tidal wave of humble abandon. Holy crap. They’re bowing to me? I watch the man with silvery grey hair stumble as he moves to bow later than everyone else. Someone hadn’t taught him the protocol, clearly. He must have been sick the day they taught Coronation 101 at merfolk etiquette school. We stand, becoming what we supposedly are, becoming the rumours on the wind, becoming the myths of ancient times gone past. We watch, surveying the humbled crowd as a large crash breaks the eerie, respectful silence. A hundred well-groomed heads turn in alarm and I feel my heart quicken. Azure stands in the doorway, wrapped from head to toe in a black silken ball gown that is speckled with rubies the colour of blood. She is revealed, hair whipped back from her face in an elegant knot, eyes an old and familiar icy blue, with skin the colour of bone.
“Sorry I’m late,” she breathes.
AZURE
Everyone is staring. I wish they’d stop. Or maybe I should make them stop. They’re standing looking at me like I’m the crypt keeper. I glide forward, transcending their disapproving and shocked stares. My black heels click against the floor in monochromatic rhythm, like a funeral march. I walk down the aisle, watching fear rise in each of the individuals that line it. They should be scared of me. I’m scared of me. I watch them shift their eyes tentatively as they rise from their humbled state on bended knee. Pathetic. I bow to nobody. I see Star in the crowd, dressed in blue. Well, at least it’s not pink, she’s worn the colour to death and it really doesn’t suit her. Now black, there’s a colour that never goes out of style. As I move I notice a pair of eyes on me, though I am not surprised, there are hundreds. However, these in particular I notice, because these eyes aren’t filled with fear. I turn suddenly and the line of people I am facing dimples, trying to move away from me. The unpredictable harbinger of darkness. God I hate them. They will never understand what I’ve been through, and the irony of the fact that I saved them all. I feel the darkness stir within my gut.
No, keep it cool, don’t play into their hands. Be strong. Focus now.
I mutter this internal mantra, trying not to allow the shadows to take me, dilate my eyes, and spider web a map of power across my flesh once more. Containment, containment is the key. I turn and spot what I’m seeking in the crowd. Orion is coming down the stairs, his dress shoes padding like the paws of a jungle cat, soft yet ready to pounce into action at any moment. I narrow my eyes and zoom in on my target, lilac eyes, silver hair pushed back against his skull, a slashed eyebrow, and cheekbones that protrude at acute angles. I look at him and he stares right back, unwavering, intense and fearless. Psiren.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I shout abruptly and he looks at me and shrugs to the people surrounding him, confused. They turn back to me looking increasingly unnerved.
Okay, not going to come right out with it then, rookie mistake boy.
I guess I’ll have to force him.
I launch myself, pushing forward on the balls of my feet and hoisting my skirt up around my haunches. The crowd parts, stumbling back into one another and quickly regaining composure. I reach out, fingers splayed, red nails claw-like and feel my expression turn feral as a map of azure darkness fades back into existence over my translucent flesh shell. I tackle him to the floor, no easy feat for someone my size as he’s taut with tightly packed, but minimal muscle. He looks short and therefore light, but he isn’t and it takes me by surprise as I knock him down into the cold hardness of the floor beneath. I’m straddling him and he looks up at me blazing.
“Love, if you wanted a shag we could have gone outside. Bit public don’t you think?” He pulls out a thick, rough English accent which leaves me surprised. He smiles up at me with a cocky reverence that pisses me off.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I growl at him, clutching his white tuxedo shirt in my balled fists.
“I’d say underneath any woman willing to tackle me for my body is exactly where I should be, Love.” He laughs throatily and lies back, putting his hands behind his head, relaxing into the spectacle.
“Pig. Psirens aren’t welcome here. I should know,” I bite out and shove his chest into the floor angrily.
“Psiren?” My slow brother comes up behind me and looks down at the specimen beneath us.
“Yes. I can tell.” I look at him intensely and I know my pupils have dilated. I know I must look like a Psiren myself. The crowd around is backing away. The silver haired man jumps
to his feet in good spirit.
“I must say. You guys know how to show a man a good time. I can see what mother meant about you. Really. Bravo. I’ve had four glasses of champagne already. That’s good shit you’re peddling there. But I do have one question… does anyone in here…” he turns, surveying shocked faces, “know where I can get a light?” He is pacing, arms loose at his side with an evil smile spreading across his bony features.
“I’ll take care of him,” I say to my brother and he opens his mouth to argue. “I’ll take a guard of two Knights if you’ve got them. I need to make sure this piece of shit gets back to where he belongs,” I mutter and Orion relaxes at the mention of guards. Callie is standing at his side, watching in slight shock. I note that she can’t take her eyes off this guy.
What? Has she never seen a dumbass before? I know I have. I hear the mystery Psiren.
“You wound me Love.” He looks at my gown and licks his lips. “But just so we’re clear Pet, the name’s Vex. You’ll need to know that when you’re screaming it later.” I snort as a sinister twinkle passes beneath the dusky lavender of his irises and wonder if he’s referring to torture or sex, or both. What the hell kind of Psiren is this guy? This is what you get when you recruit children. Poseidon should be ashamed. I think back to Callie, outfitted like some bejewelled icon of hope and snort to myself. Atargatis is no better.
The Kiss That Saved Me (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 2) Page 6