I left the Royal kitchens first, hoping that if we weren’t constantly seen together, it might take some of the attention off us. Dane hadn’t liked it, but I had insisted, adding that if our wraiths were always together, we couldn’t be attached at the fins, too.
Breakfast had been . . . a little awkward.
We’d been up half the night talking, first in the stables and then in my chambers after he’d escorted me back there. There may have been an almost embarrassing amount of kissing, too.
“You’re acting weird.” I turned, seeing my half-sister staring at me balefully.
I rolled my eyes at her.
“Really? How so?”
“I tried to talk to you at breakfast,” she said, somehow surly and pouting at the same time. It’s a special gift she has, I thought sourly.
I ignored the fissure of panic that our cover was blown.
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?”
I stared at her, realizing she had a right to know. It had been weighing on me for a while. And I still hadn’t figured out a way to help him.
“Like Dad might still be alive.”
“Don’t lie to me,” she said sharply. I knew I shouldn’t trust her, but she deserved to know. He was her father too.
“I’m not. There’s . . . stuff happening below the surface. I don’t understand it all yet, but they had a messenger. She was spelled to take messages against her will. What if that’s what happened to Dad, too?”
Her pretty blue eyes searched my face for some hint of the truth.
“You’re just mad that I’m not rotting in some cell,” she said, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced of what she was saying. Her accusation was halfhearted at best.
“No,” I said swiftly, shaking my head. “I never wanted that. I just wanted . . .”
“What?” she asked defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. “What did you want?”
“When we were young, I wanted us to be family,” I said honestly. “And if not that, if you had to hate me, I just wanted to be left alone.”
I was about to leave when I heard her soft reply.
“Mom wouldn’t let me.”
“What?”
“When I was little. I was too stupid to know that you hated me. That you were so jealous. And I cried when she wouldn’t let me play with you.”
“I was never jealous. I never hated you. I was just . . . lonely.”
“Well, looks like you aren’t lonely anymore,” she said with a sneer.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
But I knew. I knew what she would say.
“You and the Prince are awfully cozy these days. Angling to become Royal?” She leaned in close. “Mother will never let that happen. And Mers his age only want one thing, anyway,” she added nastily.
“It’s not going to happen, so you can relax. I’m here to be a Spark, that’s all,” I said with a sigh. “Triton forbid we actually made progress here. Have a good day, Thalia.”
I could feel her eyes on me as I swam away.
“You are excused from afternoon lessons to prepare for the ball,” Kayvar said at the end of Foreign History class. I stopped mid-stroke, confused. Until Annaruth swept in and took my arm.
“I heard you were up late last night,” she teased. I stared at her, aghast. Had Dane told her we were up all night kissing?
“Oh, relax. I plucked it from his mind by accident. You do need your rest, though.” She gave me a dark look, escorting me firmly toward the Royal wing. Dane was swimming in the same direction, not far behind. “You need to be on your guard, especially tonight.”
I grumbled but allowed myself to be shuffled off for a nap.
“I’ll be back in a few hours to collect you,” she singsonged before shooing Dane out of the open doorway. “You need your beauty rest too, Your Highness.”
The door closed and locked with a heavy thud. The ball. I dreaded the thought of letting Mers fawn over me, all the while knowing any of them might be planning to hurt the Prince. The thrill of fancy clothes and delicious food had quickly faded in the face of treason.
But I hadn’t missed that little wave Annaruth had done as she left. I knew she had cast a sleeping spell. I floated onto my bed and sank into sleep.