Naiads have killed themselves swearing oaths they cannot keep. A Naiad’s body will answer above all to their own wordof honor, and once you speak the words, you cannot take them back.
But I waited, unaffected by the intensity of Selena’s burning eyes. My mentor had once told me she’d refused to sign a contract with Thaan. She was a free Naiad, unburdened by loyalty to anyDomus, and for all I knew, Selena had never given a drop of her own blood to any other Naiad before.
I knew what I was asking of her. I knew the position I forced her into—the stakes that waited if she lied. I knew it was unfair.
But I drew the line anyway. I had to know where Selena stood. Everything that came next hinged on her answer. Every question, every decision, every future word.
Turning on her heel, Selena drifted into her kitchenette. She calmly opened a drawer and withdrew a knife. Her long fingers curved around the smooth wooden handle. Holding her hand upright, she drew the blade across the fleshy pad below her thumb, observing as her blood slowly pooled in the center of her palm.
I leaned into her side, watching alongside her. Selena made no move. She waited as her blood welled. I wondered vaguely if there was a time limit to such things. If blood had to be fresh, or if Selena could perhaps trick her own blood into a false vow by simply waiting—
As if gathering her resolve, Selena dragged her palm down her opposite arm. It smeared, red and shiny, and her hands began to shake.
“I swear on my blood I am notcorda-cruorto Thaan,” she said, tilting her chin high and haughty, daring her own blood to disagree. A flash of white forced me to squint my eyes, and when Selena gritted her teeth, I knew it was because her blood had heated over her skin.
She stared at her arm in quiet disbelief, as though she hadn't completely expected to survive the vow. Dropping the knife intothe little sink, she bit back a shudder and turned on me, her eyes suddenly waxy.
“There you go,” she said, taking the clean cloth I held out to her and pressing it into her bleeding hand. “If you're thoroughly finished testing the boundaries of my—”
Without waiting for her to finish, I pulled Captain Kriska’s letter from under my neckline. Selena’s gaze fastened on it at once, her words dying on her tongue as she took it from me and opened it to read.
“It’s in Rivean,” the Naiad murmured, eyes flitting left and right as she read each line.
“I know,” I said, watching her carefully.
“You do?” Selena darted a look at her. “You can read Rivean?”
“Kye can.” Something flickered in Selena’s gaze, a twitch in her brows, a sharpness in her eyes. “Prince Nikolaos,” I amended.
“You can use his family nickname.” Her eyes returned to the top to reread the entirety of the missive. “Youaremarried. This is a bounty note." I gently took it from her hands, folding the parchment into thirds and setting my finger under the wax seal. Thoughts wavered behind Selena’s eyes as realization dawned and thickened into burgeoning metallic heat I could taste in the air.
But Selena didn’t say anything. She simply stared at the destroyed red tentacles, reaching and poking at all angles of the hardened wax.
“He sent one to Thaan as well,” I said.
“He did?” Selena lifted the letter in question.
My chin dropped an inch. “Thaan didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
I stifled the urge to make her swear that, too. “Aegir referred to me as a weapon.”
I left the question unsaid. Selena stared back at me, mouth slightly parted.
“I deserve to know,” I said quietly, after it became clear she wouldn’t offer me anything I didn’t ask for first. “According to you, Thaan has a colony of Naiads at his disposal. I’ve only met you. He has a colony he can pick and choose from, yet he forced me from the islands. Me. I didn’t even know I was a Naiad. He’s filled my wardrobe, forced me into lessons, married me to a prince of Calder. There’s a reason why, Selena. I deserve to know.”
“There is. There is a reason why. You do deserve to know.”
I crossed my arms, impeding the tremor in my hands brought by the bite of fierce impatience. “Then, tell me.”
She shook her head. “Some things I can’t—”
I plucked the missive from her hand, turned on my heel, and left.
Selena bounded after me. She stopped me in the hall beside her dancing crane, a hand grasping my arm. “Maren.” She closed her eyes, mustering her forces. “Your mother was my twin.”
52
