Page 6 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

I had never seen a castle before. The only frame of reference I had was the cavern—cold rock, dripping walls, and the smell of shells. The floors here were polished smooth, and I had to tilt my head way back to find the ceiling, carved with coral reefs and sea creatures rendered in such details I nearly stopped walking.

Soldiers lined every wall. At the far end, on a raised dais, sat the king and queen.

The room swallowed us whole. Every step echoed. Every soldier’s eyes tracked our movement. The air smelled different, foreign. The cold settled into my wet clothes, and I forced myself not to shiver. I had never felt so small. So exposed.

“My King and Queen.” Mac bowed, head nearly touching his knees. “I bring before you the three women who have killed your guards and tried to escape.”

Rage flared in my chest. Minha snarled. Jina whimpered.

I was going to kill Mac the moment I got my dagger out. I didn’t care if I was executed on the spot. Every stab I’d imagined driving through Agusto’s body I redirected it to him. He had just handed us to the people who decided whether we lived or died. There was no coming back from that.

“Interesting.” The king descended the steps, golden crown on his head never shifting.

He was middle-aged with strong features, dark hair, and cruel eyes that examined Jina, Minha, then lingered on me a moment longer. His eyes narrowed, and for one suspended second the entire throne room seemed to hold its breath. Then his features hardened and whatever it was—recognition or curiosity—closed off like a door shutting.

“I’d like to know how three women killed two guards.” The queen’s delicate voice matched the softness of her features. She was simply stunning with golden long hair, a crown of pearls on her head.

She wore several strands of pearl necklaces. One each of white, pink, and gray. Even her gown had pearls along the neckline and bodice. Beyond using pearls as medicine, I had never known what else they were meant for… until now.

“With this.” Mac placed Nam’s dagger before them on the ground, the inner shell of the blade glowing.

The king nodded, understanding what the shell would do to them. “How many of these weapons did they make?”

“Three. I have the other two.”

“Where is Agusto?” The queen’s gaze shifted from the king to Mac.

“Agusto is out in the field with a troop, as the king requested.”

“Did Agusto not explain to them what happens when they retaliate?” The king narrowed his eyes at me.

“They know the consequences,” Mac said.

“They do not.” The queen drummed her jeweled fingers, then descended, pearls clicking with each step.

She approached me, her fingers digging into my jaw, forcing my face upward to meet hers. Up close she smelled of flowers, something I had no name for. Her flawless skin glowed as the sunlight streaked across her face, coming from the window.

“Pathetic.” Her thumb pressed harder, her eyes cold. “Look at you. You exist only to serve.” Her gaze swept over me the way one might assess livestock. “Know your place.”

The pearls at her throat, her fingers, that crown, the strands layered one over the other on her elegant dress, all of it ours. Every hour standing until our legs went numb. Every oyster pried open with aching fingers, searching for the precise point in the hinge, until our hands knew nothing else. All of that labor reduced to decoration. To beautiful things on a woman who had never once stood in the cold.

I held her stare. I wouldn’t look away. I refused.

She released me with a flick of her wrist, as if touching me had dirtied her hand. “Take them to the cliff. See if they can swim. Perhaps their kind will understand. And only when they beg for mercy, bring them back to shore.”

Their kind. The words snagged somewhere deep. What did she mean, their kind? Wasn’t I human, the same as her? The same bone, the same… No, not the same blood. She couldn’t possibly know that I bled blue.

I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. I was going to die either way. I might as well take this queen with me. My fingers found the secret pocket. The shell hilt was cold against my palm, smooth and familiar. I had it halfway out when Mac’s hand closed around my wrist like a vise.

He gave me a look. Don’t ruin my plan. Do as I say.

I yanked my arm back.

“Once the forest witch figures out a formula, your kind will all be dead.” The king flung his hand. “Get them out of here. They stink of the sea.”

Forest witch? Who or what was that? How small my world had been, locked in the cavern. If Mac held to his promise and helped us escape, the wondrous world would open to me, and perhaps then I could learn what the queen had meant by my kind.

And one day, when I understood what I was and what I was capable of, I would come back. For Bora. For Sohee. For every woman still standing at those tables with aching legs and empty shells at their feet. I would come back for all of them. That was not a hope. It was a promise I made to myself in the throne room of the king who had never allowed us to have names.