Cassie just grins, and I groan, flopping backwards with my arm across my face. I have no idea how late it is, but it felt like I’ve only had a few hours sleep.
“Cassandra, put me out of my misery or let me go back to bed.”
“They’ve been sighted.”
I rub at my face. “Who?”
“TheDeadwood.”
Nilsa.
My fins snap out, launching me toward the door.
Only to remember the small legion of guards outside.
“Mother sent Alexandra to escort them to the surface city. Apparently, Adella’s already there.”
Shit. Well, that escalated quickly. If Alexandra’s already left that means they’re only half a day away at most.
“Has anyone…”
“Nope.”
“So I—”
“Still have to stay put.”
I groan as I swim back to her. “Has Mother given any indication of what her plans are?”
“She’s ordered the surface arena prepared. There’s to be a feast before as well. She’s got to show you off now that you’re worthy of a mate challenge.”
I snort incredulously. This will probably be the only time Mother ever wants to show me off. Most of the time, she’d rather pretend she has seven children, not nine.
“Cassie…”
“You’re on the verge of pestering again.” She raises a delicate bronze brow. “If I told you everything I see, little brother, you’d lose your mind. There are so many futures, all so interconnected I spend days trying to tease them apart. I dream of impossible things and wake wondering if they could be real. Fate does not show her Seers everything, and sometimes she shows us things that aren’t real to confuse us and bring about events that she wants.”
I bow my head in shame. “I know.” The weight of my sister’s gift is easy to forget. “I’m sorry I asked.”
“You’re nervous.” Cassie giggles. “It’s funny seeing you so worked up over a woman.”
We’re interrupted by a knock at the door. A maid with a silver tail swims in, his hair fanning out behind him in a glimmering wave.
“Prince Niklaus, your mother has sent new clothes.”
I have to work to control my features. “Of course.”
Time to play dress up for the nobles.
The new, short tunic is a rich, vibrant sea green, the colour of my mother’s house. It hangs over my left shoulder, leaving my clan markings visible for all to see.
I hate these clothes. Nobles’ garments are an insult after everything I went through to achieve my warrior’s uniform. They’re impractical and designed for males with lighter, more flexible fins.
Still, I say nothing as he sticks the tiny bronze circlet over my head.
It’s barely worth wearing it. My sisters—Cassie excluded—all have intimidating, warriors’ crowns.
Mine is an afterthought. A thin ring with barely any ornamentation.