Page 129 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

Let’s find this underground kingdom, Jina said and dove deeper.

The city appeared from the dark below, coral grown over the giant structure. Bioluminescent creatures drifted through the empty archways, lighting the city in soft blues and greens.

Minha reached the golden gate first, designed with seashells. She pushed against the stone, and it opened.

Jina floated at the threshold, her tail swishing, her eyes gleaming with tears. The kingdom her parents had ruled. The kingdom that had been waiting for her to come home.

Well, Jina said. What do we do now?

The edifice spread out before us, bearing the weight of everything that came next. The sea kingdom had been abandoned for decades. Rebuilding it would take time. But it would happen. We would make sure of it.

Rebuild one day at a time, I said. You can rule in the sea and on land.

On land? Jina furrowed her brows.

Jeju belongs to the Seaborn. Minha’s jaw clenched. We’re taking it back.

We surfaced together, and Yong had laid out our simple clothes of tunic and pants at the waterline. He knew we’d need them, though there was no sign of him, only horses, waiting. He’d gone to gather the other Seaborn and our reinforcements.

We rode in silence.

For the first time, I saw the city I’d spent my whole life beneath without ever knowing its shape—stone walls catching the last of the evening light, smoke curling from the chimneys, the port beyond them settling into the quiet rhythms of dusk.

The gates opened before we reached them. The soldiers inside took one look at what was coming—winged people in the sky, Seaborn on horseback, a goddess at the front—and stepped aside without being asked. Some of them dropped their spears. Many ran.

The streets emptied as we passed. Doors pulled shut. Faces appeared in windows, watching. I kept my eyes forward. The castle at the center of the city rose, built to impress and intimidate, pearl-encrusted banners hanging from the parapets, the king’s crest on every surface. All of it paid for with the labor of women who never saw daylight.

The throne room doors were already open when we arrived. Either someone had warned them, or they had been waiting.

The king and queen sat on their thrones. They looked smaller than I remembered. The king, who had studied my face with those cruel narrowed eyes, he looked older now, the lines around his mouth deeper, his jaw set.

The queen sat very still, her pearl crown catching the light, her hands folded in her lap. She had the expression of someone who would not be defeated.

We stopped at the base of the dais. Whether they recognized me, they didn’t show it.

“You have no authority here,” the king said.

“No,” I agreed, “but she does.”

Jina walked forward.

She had changed since the cavern, the auction block, Russo’s ship, the arena and the dungeon, the mountain, and everything after. But standing here, in this throne room where she and Minha and I had stood with no names, she looked like someone who’d had enough.

She stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked up at the king.

“This castle,” she said, her voice stern, “was built on land that belonged to the Seaborn before any kingdom laid claim to it. The pearls that funded its walls came from the hands of women you enslaved. Including mine.”

The king’s jaw tightened.

“I am Jina.” She lifted her chin higher. “Daughter of the rightful rulers of the Seaborn people, killed by the Seelie queen before I was old enough to know them. This throne belongs to my bloodline by right.” She tilted her head slightly. “I am giving you the opportunity to leave it with dignity or face trial.”

A long silence.

The queen’s hands tightened in her lap, then she took off her crown.

My fingers found the vial still tucked at my hip, warm from being carried so close to my skin for so long. I’d imagined this moment differently—a drop in a cup, a slow reckoning, justice measured out the way Sable had intended it. But watching the king rise on his own, watching the weight finally break something in him without my help, I didn’t need it. Not everyone had to die by my hand for the debt to be paid.

The king descended the steps without a word, the queen following a step behind him. With gentle care, she set the crown down at Jina’s feet. Neither of them looked at anyone as they passed, leaving the room without a backward glance.