Page 49 of Crown Prince's Mate

The buildings rise in organic geometry, the structures seeming to breathe, made of the same material as the vessel we are in. We’ve tried a thousand ways to bring the mineral substance off Etherion, but out of the ocean too long, it hardens, losing its malleability. At the edges of the clustered cities, there are vessels and the people of Etherion harvesting algae from the rocks, moving through vast underwater gardens. In the center of each of the domes that rise from the ocean floor, there are vast green and blue ponds, the lungs of the cities that supply the domes with fresh air.

In the dark of the ocean, the cities are constellations. The heart of the underwater cities is a dome that towers over the others, the edges of it lit up with the rhythms of the sun above. Transparent tubes extend from this central dome, reaching out like arteries to the surrounding celestial bodies. Our vessel homes in on this core, propelled by undulating tendrils resembling jellyfish.

I watch as the other vessel zooms at twice our speed, diving downwards. Inside, I spot Aeris. Her vessel touches down,connecting to the air-bubble at the bottom of the dome, and she walks out to the long line of Etherions awaiting us in a procession.

We approach, and our vessel’s outer layer seamlessly merges with the airfield, like two bubbles coalescing into one. The floor of the dome is patterned in shades of green and blue, framing the two lines of Etherions. Aeries stands at the center, her robe undulating as if caressed by the tides that cannot penetrate the air-field. The barrel-chested Etherions, with enlarged lungs that subtly arch their spines, always seemed out of place in the spacestations above. Here, they appear perfectly suited to the environment. Some are swimming languidly beside us, peering in through the transparent dome.

The two lines of Etherions must be regular civilians, but even they are clad in beautiful robes made from underwater fibers and adorned with jewels. There’s no real class differences on this planet. They survive from harvesting the lands, and there is plenty for all, adorning themselves in rich jewels. Even the children glitter.

Doman extends his hand to me, and we walk through the air-field together. The moment we cross the threshold, I sense the change. The air is humid but cool, as if it is laced with the ocean, and there is a gentle pressure against my body. The domes are calibrated for the Etherions, and few visitors stay for longer than a day or two, unable to adjust to the depths.

I take in a deep, deliberate breath. The air feels tangible, laden with moisture, making my gray robes cling to my body. It’s not quite unpleasant. Despite the pressure, there’s a relaxed coolness. We step forward, and Titus and Gallien follow behind us.

As I stand, my hand in the Aurelian prince’s facing the procession, the sounds of a harp-like instrument strumming to announce us, I feel a strange sense of pride. He towersover me, huge by my side, but his presence does not feel suffocating. Instead, he fortifies me, a massive slab of marble muscle standing tall in the depths of the ocean. He can walk into anything without fear.

Titus strides forward, to our right, and Gallien takes my left flank, a wall of protective strength.

Aeris steps forward, a small, mysterious smile on her face. “Etherion welcomes you, Prime Minister Adriana of Pentaris, Crown Prince Doman of the Aurelian Empire, Prince Titus of the Aurelian Empire, Gallien of the Aurelian Empire,” she says with a deep formality, repeating the titles.

To my shock, Doman bows his head. “Thank you for you welcome, Aeris of Etherion.” Just a week ago, she was groveling at his feet, begging him. And yet, he is filled with obvious respect.

“A good omen,” says Aeris, her smile widening, as she looks beyond us. I turn, and the gleaming shapes of dolphins shoot by us like shooting stars.

There are murmurs in the citizens, and I can see some are looking at Titus in particular, admiring the craftsmanship of his chain, with the fist-sized diamond inlaid with another gem, a perfect representation of the flag of the Aurelian Empire.

“Please follow me. I hope what you find on our planet will change your plans.”

Doman squeezes my hand at her words but shows no other outward reaction.

Through the center of the rows of the Etherions, a float approaches, gliding two feet off the ground, adorned by coral. We enter, and we are transported through the underwater city. Aeris goes off into the crowd. I’m sure she knows a shortcut.

Awe and curiosity overtake me as we move. Around us, buildings crafted from translucent materials soar like intricate glass sculptures, some shrouded partially in a veil of darkness.I notice the darkened facades lift, replaced by faces peering out from behind windows, as Etherions disable their privacy settings to catch a glimpse of us.

Not just those lining the streets but also those in the buildings pause to observe us. Some are dining, others are engrossed in their tasks, yet all stop to watch our procession. It's a level of attention I'm not accustomed to. In my role as Prime Minister, there's never been such spectacle or ceremony. My commencement was a modest gathering on Virelia, a stark contrast to the grand parades often reserved for planetary representatives. The Administration holds power, but we are simply workers.

Now I am standing on a float, my hand in the grip of the Aurelian crown prince, and he waves his hand regally, smiling out, born to this. He seems to pick out every person in the crowd with his gestures and gaze, and I can see the Etherions smile back, each feeling as though the prince is waving to them personally. Titus and Gallien stand at our sides, a seriousness to them, like royal guards, their marble skin gleaming in the luminescent light of the glowing city.

The float travels through the main road of the city, but then we turn down a smaller road, the crowd thinning. Ahead, past the bubble that seems so thin and delicate, there is the looming wall of an underwater mountain, with a cave that gapes, its mouth a dark void that contrasts with the glowing city.

The home of the krakens.

There is a long stretch of nothing until the edge of the bubble, where a building is curved against the air-shield itself, the privacy shields blackening the exterior. Standing in front of it is Aeris, and she’s somehow changed in the time it took us to travel through the city. She is wearing a blue robe so dark it is nearly black, and her coronet of gems match.

Doman squeezes my hand tighter. For the first time since we met, I feel a connection to him. The ring on his finger that presses against my skin reassures me.

Whatever we’re feeling for each other, it’s not some manipulation of our minds through the primal Bond that links Aurelian to human.

I take a deep breath in when I can’t help but fix my gaze on the dark, looming cave, the blackness of it seeming endless. Titus sniffs, smelling my fear, and turns to me, his face hard. “I’m starting to crave calamari,” he says, his tone completely serious, then he gives me a wink. He’s completely at ease with the coming test, and his nonchalance soothes me.

The float stops a few feet in front of Aeris, and Doman steps off first, extending his hand and helping me down.

“The threads of time are at your mercy, Prince Doman.”

He nods, accepting the burden easily. “It will be what it will be.”

“It may notbe,Prince Doman. I do not expect you to listen to me. I can only pray that our guardians will show you.”

If her words bother him, he shows nothing. His face is that of a conqueror, a warlord who has seen a thousand wars. “This ritual is not known to my people. I would ask you guide me. What should I expect?”

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