84- Vivien
The golden castle gleamed under the moonlight, its grand contours reflecting on the calm sea. And yet, something was wrong. The intense glow flickered, as if the very structure were trying to swallow anyone who dared challenge its authority.
The man with black hair remained motionless at the center of the hall, his blue eyes fixed on the void.
He felt it when the connection with Nexha broke. He felt the slow boil of irritation deep within him as the fledgling escaped his sight once again.
But then, he felt it—
The furious, familiar sea coiling around his ankles.
The water surrounding the throne began to move. At first, it was a whisper, a silent call, a warning. Then, a subtle yet inexorable pull. Small currents emerged around him, slithering like living roots, climbing up his legs, his arms, his shoulders.
The sea was angry.
And it wanted its king back on the throne.
His fingers moved slowly, adjusting the collar over his clavicle with the calm of someone undisturbed. His face remained expressionless, but something in his gaze sharpened.
The currents tightened.
The sea roared.
He sighed, lowering his lashes slightly as he allowed himself to be pulled.
His feet slid across the polished floor as the water enveloped him, dragging him back to the throne. Like a king who, despite his grandeur, was nothing more than a prisoner within his own domain.
As he settled once more onto his throne, the currents entwined around him, sinking into his skin and vanishing as if they had never been there.
He showed no anger, but his fingers scratched against the throne’s armrests.
His silence was interrupted by the subtle sound of a door opening.
— My lord…
A figure appeared at the entrance to the hall.
The pale mermaid moved forward slowly, her body swaying as if the ocean itself were pushing her forward. Her ivory-white skin looked even more translucent under the golden glow of the castle. Her eyes—completely black, empty as the abyss—lifted toward the throne.
But only for an instant.
Before kneeling, she closed her eyelids. Kept her mouth shut, her breath minimal. The last thing she wanted was to reveal the rows of sharp teeth hidden behind her lips.
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She did not wish to anger the king.
Not while she was still wounded.
A freshly closed scar stretched across her belly in an uneven line, and the scales surrounding it still bore traces of clotted blood. A reminder of her failure.
She knew he did not like failure.
The man’s gaze fell upon her, his expression untouched by any trace of emotion.
But the air around them grew heavier.
— You’ve returned. His voice was calm, drawn out. I thought you would still be unconscious.
It was a statement, not a question.
The mermaid pressed her forehead to the floor, as if begging for forgiveness. Her fingers dug into the cold marble. Her body trembled—but not from pain.
— I… failed… my lord, I can—
— Noisy.
The word was spoken with absolute boredom, yet it struck her like a thin, precise blade.
She shut her eyes quickly, holding her breath.
— The fledgling… was protected. I underestimated how quickly they would react. The shark… her breath faltered for a second as she recalled the blow that nearly tore her apart, he was stronger than expected.
Silence filled the hall.
The man’s fingers slid over the armrest of the throne.
— The fledgling should be here. My lady should have already come to me.
His words were silk wrapped in steel.
The mermaid shuddered but did not retreat.
— I… will make up for my failure.
He observed her for a long moment. His blue eyes, beautiful and glacial, did not blink.
Then, he leaned forward slightly.
— That is evident… Otherwise, for what other reason would I save a useless piece?
The pressure around her intensified. She felt the water closing in, as if the castle itself wished to crush her merely for making the king lean forward.
But only for an instant.
The man reclined back onto his throne, waving a hand dismissively.
— Recover. You will still be of use to me.
The pale mermaid clenched her fists.
She knew he did not care about her pain.
She was nothing more than a tool in this moment.
But tools could cut.
And she still desired power.
The man averted his gaze, already disinterested.
— This time, I want you to do something more… how shall I put it?… less violent.
The mermaid nodded, gritting her teeth.
The man tilted his head slightly, as if savoring the words before speaking them.
Then, he smiled.
The gesture was rehearsed, practiced to exhaustion, and yet… empty. A perfect, elegant, calculated smile—devoid of anything human.
All of it, just for his beloved.
— I want you to convince my lady… to become female.
The silence that followed was different.
She remained motionless, every muscle in her body rigid.
She wanted to clean her ears, to ensure she had not heard incorrectly.
But she did not dare move.
The king sighed, his gaze drifting to his own hands, as if the matter was serious rather than trivial.
— She should have been born female, but… unfortunately, she was born as one of those who only differentiate over time.
The pale mermaid blinked slowly. Then, she swallowed dryly.
— …Yes, my lord. I will do as you command.
He did not look at her. He merely flicked his hand lazily.
— Why are you still here? You have your mission. Go. And do not fail me again, Vivien.
She left the hall as fast as she could.
But as she swam through the castle’s luxurious corridors, her mind sank into something else.
Why would a being so powerful, even bound, care so much about the gender of a fledgling who had barely reached three months of age?
She kept swimming.
Then, something gleamed in her mind.
A venomous thought.
Vivien smiled.
For the first time, she allowed her lips to part, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth.
The idea took shape—deepening, refining, becoming something tangible.
Yes…
This could be useful.
This could be very useful.
