Chapter 13

ADIN

Earlier that evening…

Adin’s curses were getting more creative by the minute as the evening went on. He’d seen Aya’s suitor, and he was so….perfectly princely—everything that he would never be. However, he could also see the desperate glances she cast around the crowd as she was forced to dine, talk, and then dance with him. No one, not even her own siblings, seemed to notice her distress. What was worse, was that he was forbidden from moving from his post on the wall without witnessing some kind of true emergency—on pain of dismissal.

It was killing him.

He watched the Eel prince lead the princess into the dances, pushing her far closer to himself than propriety demanded. He ground his teeth, flexing and unflexing his tail. The prince was dreadfully behind on his dance education, bumping Aya into every obstacle that passed, going against the current that pulled couples around the room. Then, after what felt like hours of watching Aya endure his abuse, he saw the eel lead her through a curtained hallway, and his suspicion spiked.

That balcony led to a servants’ corridor—hardly a place for a princess. Adin swallowed hard, and discreetly leaned away from his post. Flitting along the side of the dessert tables, where Chief Pastian and Captain Kael were speaking to King Ezra, and gesticulating somewhat dramatically at one of Ezra’s retinue.

The timing was terrible. Adin knew he was risking his tailfins, and perhaps a barrack-cleaning assignment for the next month, but the princess’s disappearance was making him nervous—and no one else in the room knew her like he did. With a deep breath, and a panicked glance toward the corridor where she’d disappeared, he abandoned his post.

“Chief,” he muttered quietly, once he’d reached the tables.

“King Ezra, I must protest,” Chief Pastian pointed at an armored cecaelian that had fastened himself high on a wall, as though gravity were an optional courtesy. “If you could keep your men on a tighter leash! I’ve seen at least three—no, four of them out of bounds in the corridors. If this persists, I’ll be forced to make a report—”

“Pastian, Pastian.” Ezra smiled nastily, and threw an arm around the Chief’s shoulders. All the color from the chief’s face drained into his tail, and Adin didn’t envy his position. “At ease! Your soldiers have done….marvelously. Not a suspicious soul in sight! Is this not a party? Eat a crab cake. Take one of these lovely mermaids to the dance floor. No need to be so….stiff.”

Chief Pastian could have been carved from marble. Only he could avoid flinching when Ezra patted his shoulder with one long, black tentacle.

Adin suppressed a shudder, and cleared his throat.

“Ah, Chief?” he said, trying his best to be discreet. “A word?”

The chief gave him an irritated grunt, but seemed content to use Adin’s approach as an excuse to pull away from King Ezra’s grip.

“King Ezra, if you would please reign in your men,” the chief said in parting. “Ah, yes. Asher, was it? Appen?”

“Adin, sir,” Adin rushed. “Sir, I’ve just seen the princess being escorted out of the room to a servant’s corridor. I believe she may be in trouble.”

“Escorted? By whom,” the chief ordered. He drew further away from the dessert tables, where Ezra turned away with a sly smirk that Adin did not like at all. He kept his voice low, trying his best to avoid being overheard.

“The Eel prince, sir,” Adin all but whispered.

“Tsk,” the Chief huffed, folding his arms down at Adin in a way that communicated things like disapproval, and the burdens of discipline. “Young Adin, I recognize you are…new to the guard; however, I must insist you keep up with the movements of the palace. The Eel Prince of the Red Sea is Princess Aya’s suitor. It’s only normal that he might want to have a word with her at the commencement of his suit.”

“The princess was highly uncomfortable, and it looked coerced—” Adin protested.

“The Prince has done nothing untoward the whole evening,” Pastian scolded, looking more stern by the minute, and Adin could tell the chief thought he was wasting his time. It was all he could do to keep his fins from curling under him and scuttling back to his post.

“Sir—” Adin tried to explain.

“Did the princess call for a guard? Did she give any order at all?” Pastian demanded.

Adin shook his head slowly. “No, sir. But—”

“Then we wait for an order! The royal family will summon us when needed. That’s basic training, young Abin! Learn that well if you ever want to be promoted to full rank. Back to your post! Dismissed.”

Aya and the prince hadn’t returned, and Adin’s worry was worse than ever, but there was no arguing with the chief. All he could do was return to his post, though as he repositioned himself, he couldn’t help wiggling closer to the corridor where Aya had disappeared, where perhaps, if an order came, he could hear it.

Why didn’t you call, Aya? he thought desperately. I’m right here!

But, even though he’d sacrificed his free evening to be on this post, Adin had realized too late that he’d effectively bound himself to the same spot the whole night. No dancing. No letting the princess know that he was here.

Call for me, he pleaded again, silently.

But, her call never came.

*

When at last a summons did come for guards, Adin wasn’t the first to hear it.

“Algae! There’s an intruder in the servants’ corridor! This way!” One of the other guards in Adin’s contingent swam past him as the rest of the guards near the corridor assembled, and the movement happened so fast, he didn’t bother to correct his name.

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It was to his great relief that the order took him down the same hallway where Aya had disappeared, but what he saw there was… confusing.

It didn’t surprise him as much as it should to see Kai there, forever appearing where it was least convenient, but what did surprise him, was that the Eel Prince seemed to have made some sort of effective apology. Aya seemed entirely comfortable with him now, even….even in love.

As Aya sank onto Prince Ellian’s arm the Adin couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Aya so relaxed and happy. In fact, she seemed so swept away by the happiness of the moment that she could barely look at him, or any of the other guards.

His breath hitched at the dreamy, content expression on her face. He had never been able to make her look like that, and, he realized with a sinking heart, he never would.

Adin blinked hard, willing the tears to stay in his head. The last thing he needed was for his barrack mates to see him crying over a girl—or Kai, for that matter.

Marlin was right. Aya wasn’t right for him.

This Eel had only had one evening with her, and Aya was already so obviously smitten. Aya could be headstrong in her first impressions, but whatever the Eel had said or done, she was genuinely and truly happy. It was that expression that helped Adin make up his mind to support her decision, even if it wasn’t him. Even if he was feeling this way. He would carry her until the end, no matter what story Kai came up with to interrupt the evening.

So, he stuck his neck out for Kai. Because he owed him. Because he was Aya’s friend, and got the attention of his superior to do it—it was a risk that Kai would never appreciate.

“You’re her guard, Adin. Where were you?” Kai demanded, once they were alone.

Where was he? Where was he?

It was then that Adin had had enough. They had both lost, and Kai didn’t seem ready to accept that, yet. Kai had no idea the sort of night Adin had had, but he was thoroughly sick of being second-guessed—even if he had evidently been wrong about the Eel’s character.

For the second time that night, he’d stuck his neck out for a friend, and for the second time, he was being dismissed for it.

“Look, Kai, I won’t be able to get you out of trouble like this again. Call it…call it payback for the squid last week,” Adin said quietly, trying to make Kai understand. “But really, Aya needs your support! Not….not whatever tonight was!”

With that, Adin rounded them to face a scullery door at the end of the corridor. If Kai was smart, he could make it off the palace grounds in a matter of minutes—Adin of all people knew how fast Kai could be, but Kai wouldn’t just go!

“When Aya makes her choice, I’ll happily respect it, but Adin, she sure as barnacles didn’t choose that eel! He’s potioned her!” Kai said, staying stubbornly where he was.

“Really, Kai?” Adin popped the visor of his helmet. “You think I wouldn’t like to believe that, too? But hey, I can take it like a man. He’s a prince! He’s what she’d been waiting for. It isn’t right to interfere.”

Kai protested again, but the stress of the night was too much for Adin, and he had heard enough of Kai’s excuses. This was the palace, and in the palace, there were rules. This wasn’t the reef where magic was uncontrolled and unmonitored.

“You know, Kai,” Adin huffed, snapping his visor shut. “You really should go. If I’m caught out here letting you go, I’ll lose my job. Here’s the back door, and the sunset shift-changes should still be happening, so you can get out through the kelp-beds. Poseidon’s toes, Kai! Just…just don’t make me regret this. We probably won’t see each other so much anymore now Aya won’t even be in the kingdom. Think of this as a goodbye favor. I really…I really will miss you and Krill.”

Then, thank Poseidon, Kai went.

Adin waited until he could see Kai swimming off in the direction of his creepy cavern—Poseidon’s beard, how he hated that place!—and made it back to the ballroom in time to cheer with the rest when it was announced:

“Announcing the formal betrothal of Princess Ayalina of Atlantis, and Prince Ellian of the Red Sea!”

Adin passed the rest of the evening ushering over-excited guests out of the palace, and when footmen were in short supply, assisting well-to-dos into their fancy fish-drawn carriages. By the time he returned to the bunks, he’d had quite enough of being mistaken for a foot-servant, or a fetcher.

I can’t wait until I get that rank promotion, he thought to himself, hanging his uniform by his bunk. Then at least the duties will be more predictable.

In his distraction, he almost didn’t see one of his fellow guardsmen come bursting into the shared quarters.

“Abalone! There’s a skirmish by the outer wall!”

“Probably just a guest who got lost, but the chief’s watching,” muttered Brine, another of his bunkmates.

With a groan, Adin left his visor where it was. It was too dark to be wearing headgear, anyway. He followed them quickly, wondering when his own fellows would bother to learn who he was.

“West garden?” he asked. “That’s nowhere near where the guests come in.”

Brine and the messenger were already halfway across the courtyard. “Best hurry, the rest are already out the gate. Not sure why you’re in here!”

Adin knew better than to waste time explaining the other assignments he’d been given, and rushed off toward the west garden. He had a bad feeling about this. Kai’s cavern was toward the west, and though Kai was usually more prudent than this, if he was causing trouble again, he was going to personally strangle that cecaelian.

*

It took nearly an hour to search the west gardens. With all of their exotic flora, there were plenty of places to hide. While they didn’t find any suspicious characters, they certainly did find a lot of couples who had paired off in the caulerpa bushes.

After many encounters that began with him swimming in on some scenes that made his heartache worse, and others that he really would rather have not seen, the gardens were cleared of guests, and his contingent called the false alarm back to report to the chief. Adin could only hope that his extra work that evening would assuage any ire Chief Pastian still held toward him for the earlier scene with Ezra.

“All clear, men?” Pastian barked, when they’d assembled near the far gate.

“Yes sir!” Adin responded in a chorus with the other guards.

The night had long gone dark, and the shadows cast by the glowing jellyfish over the quiet gardens were making him sleepy. This wasn’t in his duties, anyway. Whoever had thought they’d seen an intruder at this hour had probably been at the brine.

“Alright then, men! Dismiss—!”

But something had caught the chief’s eye. Adin followed his gaze, and over the wall, he saw it, too.

Of all nights, why in the oceans did Kai have to choose this one to be such a pain?

“Stop! The Princess!” Chief Pastian yelled, though the guards were right before him. “The princess is being kidnapped!”

Adin sighed. Aya was likely swimming off for one of her nightly chartings, although having Kai accompany her was new—and was terrible timing. Adin fully expected Aya to turn around and explain everything to the guards—and hopefully dismiss them so they could all go and sleep, but she didn’t.

Instead, Aya sped up and Adin could see from the way Kai grabbed her, that he had no intention of letting her turn around.

No.

Kai might be cecaelian, but Adin never would have expected this from him. The years of friendship they shared were sporadic, and brief in many ways, but this? This was the sort of thing that had long-lasting consequences. It wasn’t the kind of thing that Adin could get him out of—and he’d just stuck his neck out for Kai, too!

The two sped off, and as though in slow-motion, Aya turned back, a look of panic on her face that pulled Adin toward her faster. Kai pulled her into the first ring cityscape where he knew the chief would have no chance of catching them, but Adin knew that couldn’t be his destination. He had a feeling he knew where to find them, but knew he’d have a devil of a time explaining that to the other guards. Silently breaking off from the rest of Pastian’s men, Adin set off in the other direction.