Page 16 of Between Fear and Favor

For a brief moment, I sensed a sadness in her, but I couldn’t dwell on it as she hauled me between the spires once more. If this were to be my life for the month, dragged along by a ruler with the temperament of her domain, I wondered if I’d survive it.

I resigned myself to whatever might happen. I’d done what my brother asked of me. Though I had hoped to see a Vesta free from war one day, I wasn’t sure if that was possible. Be it Rainier’s failure or my own demise, I doubted I’d see it. When I thought of my brother wondering about me, about Emma mourning me if I never came back, a yawning sense of loneliness overcame me. Selfishly, I wondered if my death would affect them as much as Lucia’s had.

Would Rainier have asked this of me if he knew the danger I would be in? Closing my eyes, I imagined my brother sitting behind his desk. Far too thin with sunken eyes, Rainier had been sleepless and haunted by his time in Folterra. I’d mistaken his desperation for something else. It wasn’t despondence over what had happened. It wasn’t him missing his wife. Fear had driven him to ask me to do this.

It wasn’t his fault; I should have known what it would entail. But part of me wondered if perhaps I wouldn’t have said yes if I understood just how dangerous this would be. I’d stupidly thought Mairin would handle it and make things go smoothly with her mother. If I had known, would I have told my brother no for the first time in my life? I’d lived so much for him and Dewalt, I didn’t know if I knew how to deny him.

As the rocks grew closer together, the glowing dots grew more dense, and I could tell they were pearls. With a deep sense of awe, I realized they must have been moonpearls. I couldn’t remember the entirety of their significance—Rainier had been the one fascinated by history, while I’d been fond of more artistic endeavors. I believed my father had one on display in the throne room, but I’d never paid attention to it. Slightly larger than an average pearl, they glowed a blinding white. Centuries had passed since they’d been seen on land. Perhaps because Estri had brought them all down below.

Strung between the reaching spires, the moonpearls had been woven with seaweed into long strands of light stretched between the structures. Similar to the lampposts in Astana, these tiny pearls lit the way, creating paths that countless seaborn swam over. Merrows and selkies and tremendous beasts with endless teeth sliced through the water; I couldn’t move my eyes fast enough to take it all in.

Finally, right before I was about to spit up bile from my nausea, Estri slowed in front of a tower. Close to the center of the stone structures, this one was quite tall. And when she climbed to the top of it, hauling her colossal body up the side with ease, she darted inward through a massive window.

“Dinner will be in my ballroom. It is a momentous occasion, and I’d have you look your best,” she said, and then abruptly she released me. As I floated aimlessly, she pulled back with a terrifying grace, taking all the water in the room with her.

I laidon the cool ground for far longer than I needed to, simply because I did not want to move. When the Sea Queen had left—the water leaving with her—she hadn’t thought to place me closer to the ground. Falling from that height hadn’t felt pleasant at all. Bruised and battered with a roiling stomach, the idea of standing was too much. The ground was cool and slightly damp, and surprisingly made of smooth quartz. The walls, however, were made from coral, reaching upward toward a spiraled point—or so I assumed. Out of sight, the walls continued up and up, disappearing into the dark. Vibrant pinks and blues and greens surrounded me, with tiny glowing pearls scattered in the divots and dips of the rock formation. I noticed Estri had left some of her water in the room, and it defied gravity by clinging to the coral surface. Serving as a protective barrier, I supposed, it was a place for the anemones to drift peacefully. I watched in amazement as a tiny fish—orange and black—darted amongst the coral. As it swam in front of a moonpearl, it cast a shadow on the floor. Everything had an eerie glow to it, like a full moon during a winter snow.

I wondered if it was still snowing in Vesta.

Swallowing, I vowed not to think about home. There was nothing I could do. I was being held at the mercy of the Seaborn Queen, and I didn’t suspect she’d take pity on me. Part of me was tempted to stand, to dip my hand into the water and trace the moonpearls. But then I remembered what Estri had said about the sea singing to her and promptly grew unsettled. I felt watched.

Rolling over, I found an indent in the ground filled with water and a bed of seaweed.

Was I meant to rest there? In the water? What if I were to roll over in my sleep?

Abruptly, I remembered the gash in my neck, and realized I hadn’t once thought about breathing since she brought me into this room. Yet, I still drew air into my lungs. Would it work in the opposite direction too? Or did the strange gill only work at her command?

Clambering to my feet, I strode quickly across the room toward the window she’d shoved me through. As if held back by an invisible barrier, the sea waited just on the other side of the roughly hewn sill. Slowly, I put my hand through. And then my arm. I was about to stick my head out, investigating a potential method of escape, when someone gently cleared their throat. I covered my breasts with one arm, spinning toward the source of the noise.

A petite woman stood in an opening within the coral; I wouldn’t have noticed it without her presence. She was short of stature, with soft features–a rounded face and plush stomach. She wasn’t quite naked, but the moss and seaweed covering her left little to the imagination. She tossed her hair over one shoulder, frowning at it. I blinked in surprise when I noticed her hair was translucent. Long and clearly irritating her, it ran to the small of her back. Her own skin was a shade of pink—just too bright to be natural. Or I supposed it was natural to her, but nothing like I’d ever seen above water. Her eyes were that same strange shade, with lighter veins of white radiating from the center. When she gave me a timid, closed-mouth smile, I decided to give her a chance. Nothing felt friendly or familiar in this place, so I wanted to cling to whatever kindness I could find.

“Hello,” I said, attempting pleasantries.

“I am called Fox,” she said, and I blinked at her.

“Fox? Like…the animal?”

She tilted her head, and those strange eyes widened. “I do not know an animal called that. I am told it is a flowra?”

“A…what?”

“Foxglove is my true name. My mother named me after–”

“Flower!” I blurted, realizing what she’d been meaning to say. “Foxglove, like the flower.”

She gave me that same slight smile and dipped her head low. “I am sorry. I am not used to landwalker terms.”

“Don’t be sorry. Foxglove is very pretty. But are you as poisonous as your namesake?”

Fox frowned before looking down at her feet. Her toes weren’t webbed like the Sea Queens, and it made me wonder what her seaborn form was. Fox, the dolphin shifter? The idea made me smile, but she did not return it.

“I do not know what you mean, Princess.”

“Lavenia,” I said, hoping to ingratiate myself to this seemingly demure creature. Estri would be no ally to me, but her servant might help me if I needed it. “It’s nice to meet you, Fox. Or would you prefer Foxglove?”

Her cheeks darkened to a more vibrant shade of pink. “Whichever you would prefer.” Shaking her head, she took a few steps toward me. “I am sent to help you get ready for the ball, Your Highness,” she said. Fox spoke slowly, as the Sea Queen had, and I wondered if it was because of disuse as I suspected. She twitched, adjusting her hair once more, before folding her hands tightly. It seemed to be a battle of wills: hers versus her hair’s.

“Foxglove is pretty, but it is poisonous. Is there a reason you were named after it?”

---