Page 41 of Taken By the Storm King

I considered my words carefully. “I worry about... belonging. About understanding enough to help, not harm.”

The first mother’s expression softened. “You play with our children when others see only their sadness. You learn our language when others would demand we learn yours.” She gestured to my necklace. “You wear the symbols of our people with respect.”

“These seem like qualities of belonging to me,” the second added.

A sense of rightness settled over me, brighter than the pearl's magic. “Thank you,” I said simply.

As the afternoon continued, I found myself drawn deeper into the community around me. More children came, then older siblings, then parents. I taught more games, and they taught me some of theirs -- a complex pattern game played with shells and currents that I could barely follow but loved attempting.

I was sitting with Mira, who had appointed herself my unofficial helper, teaching the others how to make simple braided bracelets from strands of a soft, kelp-like plant, when I felt it -- the distinct shift in energy that always accompanied Thalassar’s arrival.

I looked up to find him standing at the edge of the gathering, watching me with an expression that made my heart skip. Pride, wonder, and something deeper shone in his black eyes.

The children noticed him and immediately bowed, their movements graceful even in play. Mira tugged at my sleeve. “The king is here,” she whispered unnecessarily.

I stood, suddenly aware of my disheveled appearance -- my borrowed dress damp and slightly rumpled, strands of the plant material stuck to my fingers, my hair fallen from its careful arrangement.

But the way Thalassar looked at me, I might have been wearing the finest royal regalia.

“Your Majesty,” I said, offering a small bow of my own.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he replied, his voice carrying across the now-quiet gathering. “Veda said I might find you here.”

One of the mothers stepped forward, bowing deeply. “We apologize for keeping the future queen occupied, Your Majesty.”

A murmur rippled through the group at her use of “future queen.”

Thalassar’s gaze never left mine. “No apologies needed. I see she has been exactly where she belongs.”

The statement, simple as it was, resonated through me. Where I belonged. Yes. That was what I’d felt all afternoon, wasn’t it?

Mira suddenly let go of my hand and darted forward, forgetting protocol in her childish enthusiasm. “King Thalassar! Lucy taught us games from her world! And I was the best at Delfyra - Kyvthos!”

“Mira!” her caretaker gasped, mortified.

But Thalassar only smiled, crouching to the child’s level. “Did she now? And what else did you learn today?”

Mira beamed. “That different doesn’t mean scary. It can mean new and fun!”

Thalassar’s eyes met mine over the child’s head, and the simple wisdom in her words hung between us like a revelation.

As the gathering dispersed for the evening meal, Thalassar approached me. His hand reached for mine, scales smooth against my skin.

“Walk with me?” he asked.

We strolled along the winding paths of the terrace gardens, the plants gradually brightening as natural light dimmed. Our fingers remained intertwined, a bridge between our different worlds.

“You’ve made quite an impression,” he said after we’d walked in comfortable silence. “Veda says half the kingdom is already in love with you.”

I laughed softly. “I just played some games with children.”

“You did much more than that.” His voice was serious now. “You showed them humanity. Not as invaders or refugees, but as friends. As equals with different gifts to share.”

We stopped at a viewpoint overlooking the city. Lights twinkled below us, homes and buildings glowing with pearl-light. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

“I’ve been thinking about your proposal,” I said, turning to face him.

His expression remained carefully neutral, but I caught the flicker of hope in his eyes. “And?”

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