In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (most motivational books txt) 📕

“No! Don’t you understand the consequences of blood magic? Blood is a powerful substance. She could use it against you. Against your family. Against your kingdom. And she would. She would.”

“Because my great-grandfather drove her into the sea?”

Athlen stilled, gaze on the floor, legs trembling. He gave a sharp nod.

“She’s the mage he didn’t kill. The one who fled.”

“Yes,” Athlen whispered. He wobbled and grabbed Tal’s sleeve. “I didn’t know. I promise you, I didn’t realize. Not until after I already loved you.”

Tal slipped his hand over Athlen’s. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’d face her a hundred times over. I’d give her all the blood she wants.”

“Don’t say that.” Athlen let out a high noise of frustration and tugged on his hair again. “She’s dangerous. It… it was forbidden to seek her out. But I… I had no other way to—”

A sharp rap at the door interrupted Athlen. He skittered away to the alcove by the windows, stifling grunts of pain.

“What?” Tal barked.

The door opened and a steward appeared. “Your presence is requested in the courtyard, Prince Taliesin.”

“Not now. Tell them I can’t.”

The steward cleared his throat. “The response from King Rodrick has arrived. Princess Vanessa is to leave the castle at once and face justice in Ossetia.”

“Now?” Tal asked. “Can’t they wait?”

The steward shrugged. “I’m only the messenger, Your Highness.”

“Right. Fine. I’ll be there shortly.” Tal dismissed him, focus already back on Athlen, who hid from the steward’s sight behind the long curtains.

“Go,” Athlen said after the door closed. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re coming with me.”

“No. I can’t. Not like this.” Athlen lifted his hand and spread his fingers, highlighting the webbing between and the scales trailing up his arm. “Be with your family, Tal. Being with them as your true self has been your goal since the beginning. You can do that now.”

Tears pricked behind Tal’s eyes. “I won’t leave until you promise you won’t do anything until we talk again.”

Athlen looked away. His body shook. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t be too long.”

“That’s not a promise.”

He bit his lip. “I promise.”

Tal relaxed his shoulders, then ran around the room throwing on clothes. He kept his eyes on Athlen, and the lines of pain around his mouth, and the way he moved gingerly, clutching the wall as he limped back to the bed.

Tal shoved his feet into his boots. “I won’t be long.”

Athlen bowed forward, the line of his back an impossible curve, his hands white-knuckled on his knees. “I’ll be here.”

That was the only confirmation Tal needed. He opened the door and left.

17

When Tal emerged from the castle, his brothers and sisters at his side, the crowd that greeted them was far larger than what he had expected for the short notice. Rumor had spread quickly. The courtyard was packed to the brim; the only clear space was the path for the carriage to take Vanessa from their home back to her own kingdom and to her brother, who was, in Emerick’s words, quite angry. Knights and soldiers ringed the perimeter, guarding the royal family, and courtiers and nobles filled the empty spaces behind Tal’s family, milling about to watch the spectacle. With the keep’s doors flung wide, people from the village flocked in, and they whispered behind their hands as they saw Tal in the line of his siblings, very much alive, if not worse for the wear.

Standing at the top of the stone steps, surveying the courtyard packed with hundreds of onlookers, Tal was filled with a kind of dread he hadn’t experienced before, the kind that he’d been fortunate to avoid, sequestered away all the years prior.

“You look like you’re going to faint,” Kest said from Tal’s right, voice dipped low.

Tal glanced at him. “So do you.”

“Well, I was shot with an arrow a few days ago.”

“Good point.”

Kest huffed a laugh at the unintentional pun. “Is everything all right?”

No. It wasn’t. Athlen was hurting. The sea witch’s magic was failing. His debt was due. And he wouldn’t allow Tal to pay it, even if he could.

“Nervous,” Tal said in reply.

Kest nudged him. “I’m right here. As are Isa and Garrett and Corrie. You’re not alone.”

“I know.”

Corrie elbowed him, and he shot her a glare. She jerked her chin, and Tal spotted Athlen slipping from the doors behind them, joining the gathering of castle residents at their backs. He looked awful, his skin translucent save for the feverish bright spots on his cheeks. His hair was wild and untamed from Tal running his fingers through it, and he hobbled and grimaced with each movement.

“What did you do?” Corrie whispered with the bite of accusation.

Tal frowned. “It’s none of your business. Pay attention to what’s happening in front of you.”

A murmur ran through the crowd as Queen Carys stepped through the castle arches. Her crown sparkled in the sunlight, as did the swords of the knights on either side of her. Chin lifted, shoulders back, her dress flowing behind her as she walked, she was the picture of royalty—steel and grace personified.

Tal straightened his own posture as she took her place over the proceedings.

A hush fell over the crowd as his mother spoke. She talked of the treason, of Tal’s kidnapping and presumed death, of Kest’s injury by a failed assassin. She spoke of the evidence against Princess Vanessa of Ossetia and her handmaiden.

She didn’t speak of magic or mermen.

After the queen finished, guards brought Vanessa from the castle, her wrists clapped in iron chains, her hair unkempt, her dress tattered and dirty. The crowd greeted her with jeers and rotten fruit.

Corrie laughed when a tomato hit Vanessa in the cheek.

Tal’s stomach churned at the parade as she was trotted out and humiliated. His skin crawled with every taunt, the memories of his time on Zeph’s ship still fresh.

The guards paused at the doorway to the carriage and waited for the queen to grant permission for the prisoner to board.

“Any words before you