Of Poseidon 02: Of Triton (22 page)

Galen despises that motto.

“I cleared out the sporting goods store this morning,” Rachel says. “I took what was on the shelf and made them cough up their stock in the back.”

Galen tenses up. Emma laughs. “Don’t be jealous, Highness. Rachel still loves you more than she loves me.”

“Aww! You guys are fighting over me?” Rachel says, pinching Galen’s cheek. “That’s so adorable.”

“I’m not jealous,” he says, trying not to sound pouty. “I just don’t know why we would need life jackets.”

“
We
don’t,” Emma says, wriggling around on his lap so she can face him. Secretly, he’s delighted. “But humans do. And if my job is keeping the humans safe, then I should be prepared, right?”

But Galen is too distracted by the close proximity of her mouth to be bothered with the words coming out of it. She must recognize it, because she leans forward as if giving him a chance to make good on his craving. It’s all the invitation he needs.

He captures her mouth with his. Life jackets, islands, and airports are forgotten. The only thing that exists is her lips on his, her body pressed into his. Suddenly the creaky office chair is transformed into their own little world.

“Uh, I’m just going to get more wine,” Rachel says. He didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable enough to leave.
Not good
.
The last thing we need is privacy and free rein to do as we please
. He tries to end it, to pull away, but Emma won’t have it. And it’s difficult for him not to indulge her.

Her kiss is hungry, as if long deprived. As if they didn’t already spend the morning doing just exactly this, making up for the lost time they were apart.
Triton’s trident, I could do this all day.
Then he catches himself.
No, I couldn’t. Not without wanting more. Which is why we need to stop.

Instead, he entwines his hands in her hair, and she teases his lips with her tongue, trying to get him to fully open his mouth to her. He gladly complies. Her fingers sneak their way under his shirt, up his stomach, sending a trail of fire to his chest.

He is about to lose his shirt altogether. Until Antonis’s voice booms from the doorway. “Extract yourself from Prince Galen, Emma,” he says. “You two are not mated. This behavior is inappropriate for any Syrena, let alone a Royal.”

Emma’s eyes go round as sand dollars. He can tell she’s not sure what to think about her grandfather telling her what to do. Or maybe she’s caught off guard that he called her a Royal. Either way, like most people, Emma decides to obey. Galen does, too. They stand up side by side, not daring to be close enough to touch. They behold King Antonis in a polka-dot bathrobe, and though he’s the one who looks silly, they are the ones who look shamed.

Galen feels like a fingerling again. “I apologize, Highness,” he says. It seems like all he does lately is apologize to the Poseidon king. “It was my fault.”

Antonis gives him a reproving look. “I like you, young prince. But you well know the law. Do not disappoint me, Galen. My granddaughter is deserving of a proper mating ceremony.”

Galen can’t meet his eyes.
He’s right. I shouldn’t be flirting with temptation like this.
With the Archives on their way—or possibly here already—there is a distant but small chance that he and Emma can still live within the confines of the law. That they can still live as mates under the Syrena tradition. And he almost just blew it.
What if it had gone too far?
Then his mating with Emma would forever be blemished by breaking the law. “It won’t happen again, Highness.”
Not until we’re mated, anyway
.

“Um. Did you just promise not to kiss me ever again?” Emma whispers.

“Can we talk about this later? The Archives are obviously here, angelfish.”

She’s on the verge of a fit, he can tell. “He’s just looking out for us,” Galen says quickly. “I agree, we need to respect the law—”

At this her fit subsides as if it was never there. She smiles wide at him. He can’t decide if it’s genuine, or if it’s the kind of smile she gives him when he’ll pay for something later. “Okay, Galen.”

“Galen, Emma,” Nalia calls from the dining room, saving him from making a fool of himself. “Everyone is here.”

Emma gives him a look that clearly says “We’re so not done with this conversation.” Then she turns and walks away. Galen takes a second to regain a little bit of composure—which kissing Emma tends to steal from him. Then there’s the mortification of being interrupted by—
Get it together, idiot.

Galen uses the walk to the dining room to settle his nerves and stifle the anger building up inside him. The truth is, he doesn’t have much to say to the Archives. Not after what they allowed to take place in the Arena.
Triton’s trident, they put the Royals on trial!

But as much as Galen would love to throw that in their faces, he won’t. This is his one chance, however small it is, to turn things around for him and Emma. And he’s not about to toss that chance to sea with both hands.

Rachel has pulled more chairs out to accommodate the gathering. The table they circle is shinier than Emma’s lip gloss. Unlike the human meetings Galen has attended with Rachel to sell his underwater finds, there is no paperwork on the table, no cups of coffee, no cell phones. Also unlike human meetings, most participants are either dressed in bathing suits or bathrobes.
Leave it to Rachel’s creative hospitality
. It is a sight Galen will never forget, seeing the elderly council of Archives sit uncomfortably in human chairs. If the situation weren’t so dire, he’d have to laugh. Especially since Tandel’s bathrobe has the human symbol of peace all over it in fluorescent colors.

“Thank you for coming,” Galen says. He takes his place next to Grom, who sits at the head of the table. Appropriately, Antonis sits at the head of the other end, accompanied by Rayna and Toraf. Emma is at Galen’s left side. He doesn’t need to look at her to know she’s scowling at him.

Grom begins. “King Antonis has been so kind as to give us your message and deliver ours. Many thanks to you, Highness.”

Antonis nods, bored.

“We would very much like to hear what you have to say to us,” Grom continues. “Have you elected someone to speak on behalf of the council?”

Tandel raises his hand. Galen is not surprised. “I have been elected, Majesty.”

Grom nods at him, and Tandel’s face changes from nervous to apologetic. “First, I would like to express on behalf of all of us here—and many who are not—that we are terribly sorry for the way the tribunal was handled.” When none of the Royals accept nor reject his offering of remorse, Tandel continues, less confident. “In fact, we regret that there was a tribunal at all. We had no right to question the actions of the Royals. It was shameful that we allowed Jagen to tickle our ears with such nonsense.”

“Nonsense?” Galen interrupts. He would like Tandel to be much more specific. After all, the more guilt that can be piled on the Archives’ heads, the better chance Galen has of getting what he wants.

Tandel nods. “The nonsense that a Common could have the Gift of Poseidon.” Galen does not miss his quick glance at Emma. “Paca has come forward and admitted her guilt in this conspiracy. It was just as you said, King Grom. She learned the hand signals from the humans while she was on land.”

“And what of Nalia?” Grom says, motioning to her on his other side. “What conclusion has the council reached regarding her?”

“There are still those who claim that they do not recognize her pulse, Highness. However,” Tandel adds quickly at Grom’s immediate scowl, “we must assume that since Jagen and Paca lied about so much, that some of their Loyals did as well, and continue to do so. It has come to the attention of the council that Jagen offered many positions of prominence in his new ‘kingdom’ arrangement. It is our belief that he intended to change our entire way of life.”

Grom folds his hands on the table. “And?”

“We are prepared to accept the blue-eyed Syrena as Nalia, the Poseidon heir. After all, we do have testimony from well-respected Trackers and Archives who insist she is who she says.”

“You well know that I only mated with Paca because I thought she had the Gift of Poseidon. What of that?”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking, Highness.”

“I’m quite certain that you are quite certain of what I’m asking. You know I was promised to Nalia before the mine explosion. You know I mated with Paca under false pretenses. And you know that we have not consummated the bond.”

Tandel sighs. “Your mating with Paca is legal, Highness. We have no grounds for dissolving the union. The only grounds for dissolution is adultery.”

“Then why did you come here?” Rayna says. “You knew what we were going to ask of you. Why else would we care if Nalia was the Poseidon heir or not? So she could float around all useless? She’s supposed to be with my brother. You have a lot of nerve—”

“That’s enough, Rayna,” Grom says. Before her feelings have time to get hurt, he adds, “Thank you for making those excellent points.” Galen has noticed that since Nalia is back, Grom has been more patient with Rayna. It occurs to Galen that maybe Rayna reminded his brother of Nalia so much that he kept her at a distance all this time. After all, they share much the same spirit of rebellion and adventure. The revelation makes Galen smile.

Grom turns his attention to Tandel expectantly.

“Is this what you ask in exchange for your help?” Tandel asks.

Grom is about to confirm that it is, but Galen stops him. “No,” he says forcefully. “That is only one of the things we’re asking.”

Grom’s eyes widen, but he allows Galen to speak. “You have not only broken the law by your treasonous tribunal. You’re breaking the law right now, sitting here in a structure made by human hands and clothes made for humans to wear. Tell me why you break the law right now.”

Tandel is getting flustered. “You yourself requested our presence here, Highness.”

“And you agreed. Why did you agree?”

“We came to address an issue that affects our kind.”

“So you overlooked the law to make this concession. For the greater good of all Syrena.”

Tandel nods reluctantly. “That is one way of putting it, Highness.”

Galen leans forward, folds his hands on the table carefully. He takes care to look into the eyes of each Archive. He takes care to let them know he is talking to each of them, and all of them as a council. “I will ask you to do it again.”

“I beg your pardon, Majesty?” Tandel says.

“I will ask you to break the law once again, for the greater good of all Syrena.” The words are out of his mouth but he can’t tell if they made their mark.

Especially because of the outbreak of gasps—not the least of which is from Grom. But Grom should have seen this coming. He was so quick to look out for his own desires, that he forgot what Galen wanted. The
only
thing Galen wanted. When things quiet down, Galen continues. “You have made the acquaintance of Emma, Half-Breed daughter of Nalia. All of you witnessed that she has the true Gift of Poseidon, that she is a direct descendant of the General himself. And you should know that I intend to take her as my mate.”

Galen allows the room to transfer the shock among themselves. Across the table, Antonis nods to him in approval from the comfort of his purple polka-dot bathrobe. The act seems to empower Galen, to infuse him with boldness. He waits for Tandel to resume eye contact with him.

“Prince Galen, this is a surprise to us all. We expected you to request that we allow her to live, though she is a Half-Breed. In view of her efforts to save the fingerling Jasa from humans, we were prepared to concede to that.”

I’d almost forgotten that
. And so far, Emma hasn’t come forward and confessed that she was in the water
when he’d asked
her not to be. That she allowed herself to be seen by a stranger, even if just a fingerling.

Galen whips his glare to Emma. Her face is red, painted with guilt. “Did you forget to mention something to me?” he hisses.

“Oh. Yeah. About that. We have a lot to talk about
later,
don’t we?” she whispers.

Tandel clears his throat. “What you are suggesting, what you are asking, is not conceivable, Highness. Because of Nalia’s reappearance and Grom’s recent mating ceremony to Paca, you do realize you are in line to mate with the Poseidon heir. You are a Royal, Prince Galen. A Royal has no business mating with a Half-Breed.”

Galen was afraid this would happen. That he really would be forced to choose. Before, when they had wronged him and the rest of the Royals, it was an easy decision to make. Now the Archives seek reconciliation. They seek negotiations. Will Galen be the one to reopen the closing chasm between the Royals and the Archives?

Galen is about to respond, but Grom beats him to it. “Just like a Royal has no business mating with a Common, Tandel? It seems my brother is right. The Archives are willing to negotiate the rules when it suits them. Thus far, the Royals have not negotiated. Every third generation for as long as can be remembered, the Royals have sacrificed their own desires and joined the two houses, just as the law requires. We have given much, and you have rewarded our sacrifice with disloyalty. Betrayal.” Grom holds his hand when it looks like Tandel might interrupt. Or apologize again. “No, let me speak. You yourselves saw the Gift Emma possesses. I would think you would
want
to keep that Gift within the bloodlines. Can you imagine what their fingerlings could do, coming from parents who each have a Gift of the generals? Aside from that, I was under the impression that you were asking for Emma’s help with the humans as well? If so, this is not the way to go about it, friends. It seems to me that as far as Half-Breeds go, this is one you’d want to become an ally of. Not to mention, this would very much go against my own wishes. You know my reasoning for wanting to unseal my mating with Paca. To have my brother mate with Nalia instead would hardly encourage affection among the Royals.”

Galen can’t think of anything else he would add to Grom’s argument. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have been as eloquent; he was about to call the entire thing off and send them back to where they came from. Which is why it is a very good thing that Grom is king instead of Galen.