Page 43 of Taken By the Storm King

The chamber smelled of sea minerals and burnt coral. Five stone basins lined the walls, each filled with different colored solutions -- the sacred pigments for my bonding markings. I stood shirtless in the chamber’s center as Veda directed three ritual attendants who worked methodically, applying the first layer of markings to my scales.

“The spiral pattern represents continuity,” Veda explained, as a cool, silvery substance was painted onto the scales of my forearm. “From your ancestors to your descendants.”

The pigment seeped into the edges of my scales, creating an iridescent pattern that shifted as I moved.

“Our traditions say the king receives these markings to show his connection to all past rulers,” she continued. “Unlike common bonding markings, royal ones never fully fade.”

I rotated my arm, watching the pattern reflect the light. “My father’s looked different.”

“Each king’s markings are unique to his reign and the challenges he faces.” Veda nodded to the attendants, who moved to my other arm. “Yours incorporate the surface and depths -- a new element, for a new era.”

The marking ritual proceeded methodically, each pattern containing symbols of my lineage, my reign, and my future with Lucy. The thought of her sent a surge of warmth through me. Would she find these markings strange? Beautiful? Would her fingers trace them as mine traced the silvery streaks in her hair?

“Now the ancestral objects,” Veda directed, gesturing to a stone chest brought forward by two guards.

From it, she withdrew items I’d only seen in our historical archives -- a coral crown inlaid with memory pearls passed down through twenty generations, a ceremonial blade forged from the rare metal found only in the deepest trenches, and finally, a torque made of interwoven gold and silver, symbols of both land and sea.

“These will be presented during the ceremony,” Veda said, placing each item reverently on a cushioned pedestal. “But you must select one personal item to present to your chosen one beforehand. A tradition as old as our kingdom.”

Before I could respond, Maris burst into the chamber, her usual composure abandoned.

“She looks magnificent!” she exclaimed, then caught herself, offering a belated bow. “Forgive the interruption, King Thalassar, Elder Veda.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “I assume Lucy’s preparations progress well?”

“The surface-dweller adapts quickly,” Maris said, her eyes bright with excitement. “The ceremonial gown required adjustments, of course, but she stands as if born to it. Thechildren have been teaching her the traditional songs, and she’s mastered three already.”

Pride swelled in my chest. Lucy, always surprising, always exceeding expectations.

“She asked about you,” Maris added with a grin. “Wanted to know if you were suffering through as many fittings and traditions as she is.”

“Tell her my suffering is profound and constant,” I joked, wincing slightly as one of the attendants applied a particularly cold pigment to my shoulder.

Veda dismissed the attendants with a wave, then approached me with something clutched in her ancient hand. When she opened her palm, I stared in wonder.

My mother’s royal emblem -- a small, crescent-shaped pendant of woven silver and pearl. I’d last seen it around her neck the day she died.

“This belongs to your queen now,” Veda said softly. “Your mother would have wished it.”

I took the pendant carefully, feeling its weight -- physical and symbolic -- in my palm. “Thank you, Veda. For preserving this. For everything.”

She placed her wrinkled hand on my freshly-marked forearm. “Your mother would have loved Lucy. Different as they are, they share the same courage. The same heart.”

My throat tightened with emotion I rarely allowed myself to display. I inclined my head, words failing me.

“The personal gift should be given tonight,” Veda continued, practical once more. “According to tradition, you’ll spend the night separated, with you keeping watch over her sleep before dawn brings your bonding.”

“A night apart,” I murmured. “After everything, that seems...”

“Necessary,” Veda finished firmly. “Some traditions exist for good reasons, young king.”

I nodded, closing my fingers around my mother’s emblem. One night of separation before a lifetime together seemed a small price to pay.

Lucy’s quarters had been transformed with shells and luminous crystals, giving the chamber an otherworldly glow. She stood at the window overlooking the depths, her silhouette outlined against the dark waters beyond. When she turned, my heart stuttered in my chest.

She wore a simple robe of pearl-white silk, her hair loose around her shoulders. The streaks of silver shimmered in the light, making her appear as if crowned with moonlight.

“There you are,” she smiled, crossing the room to me. “I was beginning to think they’d lock you away until the ceremony.” Her eyes widened as she noticed the intricate markings on my arms. “Wow. Those are beautiful.”

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