My duty, my responsibility. My destiny. It’s only a kiss away.
It would be so easy just to lean forward a few inches, press my lips to his, and vanquish al my doubts and guilt forever. So easy…
An image of Quince flashes in my mind.
I can’t.
Just because something is the easy choice does not make it the right one. Quite often the right choice is real y, real y hard. I’ve made my decision. I love Quince and I believe my future lies on land. I’m not about to throw al of that away to avoid snide comments from girls like Astria or to wash away guilt that Daddy has assured me I don’t need to feel.
“Tel in,” I say, pressing a palm to his chest to push him away, “I can’t. I have to make my own choices in life, or it won’t be my life.”
“Damn it!” Tel in slams a palm against the wal so hard I feel the vibrations—quite a feat under water. “Lily, you can’t do this. You’re going to ruin everything.”
“What?” I have never seen that kind of fury in his pale eyes. “Ruin what?”
“You have no idea,” he says, his voice a rough growl. “My kingdom…” A look of complete desperation washes over his face. “We’re dying, Lily. With the rising ocean temperatures, the coral in our kingdom can’t survive. It’s disrupting the entire cycle of life in our waters.” I suck in a gasp. I knew that ocean warming was a worldwide problem, that the mer kingdoms had been in talks for years about how to combat the effects. But I didn’t know any kingdoms had been so dramatical y affected already.
Thalassinia has been lucky in its more northerly location.
We’ve seen new species migrating into our waters, but so far that’s only been an interesting sea forestry study. Down in the already warm waters of the Caribbean, in an ecosystem so entirely dependent on the coral reefs, I can’t imagine what Acropora must be going through.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, even though I know it’s total y inadequate.
“Sorry,” he scoffs. “Lily, my father isn’t il , he’s dying. My people are starving. I haven’t been living on land because I want to. I’ve had to. Many of my subjects have been forced to either leave the waters or emigrate to other kingdoms.”
“That’s awful,” I say, cupping his cheek in sympathy. “But I don’t see how bonding with me—”
“You don’t see?” he spits. “Uniting our kingdoms is the only hope. With the strength and prosperity of Thalassinia comes the salvation my people need.”
“But—” I shake my head. “Our bonding would not unite the kingdoms. You said it would be a bond in name only, so I could take the throne.”
“You are either very naive or wil ful y blind,” he snorts. “And selfish.”
I have no response to that because, wel , am I being selfish? I can’t tel anymore.
“You have doubts,” he pleads. “I can see you do.” He floats down and lays his head against my bel y. “For the love of your merkin to the south, I am begging you.” This is so much to take in. The fact that he’s been lying to me about the bond. The famine and ecological destruction wiping out his kingdom. So much emotion. It’s a lot to process, and the only thing I know is I am not the solution. I can’t be. Right?
Thalassinia is a prosperous and wealthy kingdom, and we are very generous with those less fortunate, but we don’t have the capability to support an entire second kingdom.
Especial y one as large and diverse as Acropora.
Tel in’s hopes for a united kingdom are unrealistic.
“Tel in, I’m very sorry for your kingdom’s suffering,” I say, feeling helpless. I gently wrap my arms around his shoulders. “But bonding with me won’t—”
“The hel it won’t,” he growls before suddenly kicking upward until his face is level with mine. “It’s the only option we have.”
His abrupt movements are such a surprise, his lips are nearly on mine before I react. I twist to the side, dislodging his body, and—with a flick of my fin—I’m out of his arms and in the center of the room.
He doesn’t chase after me. He just drops his head against the wal . His shoulders are heaving and I think he might be crying. Sobbing.
“Tel in…” I swim back toward him, overcome by sympathy.
Maybe I should be angry, but desperation makes people do uncharacteristic things.
“Don’t. That was unforgivable.” He shrugs off my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Lily. I am so sorry.” I take a deep breath. This is my friend speaking, not the desperate king of moments ago.
“I understand,” I say, floating to his side. “You are worried about your kingdom.”
He looks at me, his pale eyes bleak and lost. And glittering ice blue. “I’m worried that, if things don’t change, there won’t be a kingdom much longer.”
So much pressure on one so young. No wonder he tried to take such drastic action. To find out that your father is dying and your kingdom might be, too? That’s a lot to deal with.
He shouldn’t have to deal with it alone.
“Have you spoken to Daddy?” I ask. “Or to the other kings and queens?”
The mer kingdoms are al unique and sovereign nations, but we are joined by a common secrecy, a common heritage. We try to protect and help one another out as much as we can.
“My father wouldn’t let me,” he says. “Too proud to ask for help.”