Page 29 of Taken By the Crab King of Atlantis

“The normal way.” She says it quickly, closing the subject off, which raises alarm bells in the back of my mind. “Our lord has had many other lives before Atlantis, and will have many others in the future. I recognized that last night when I saw you in the restaurant. He’s different with you.”

“You care for him.” It surprises me.

“As do you.”

I laugh. “I barely know him.”

“And yet I had never seen him happier than with you last night.” My stomach flutters with unease at the sharpness in her eyes. She goes on. “I must admit I had hopes he would pick someone from this city.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it genuinely. When it’s only Karkinos and I, it’s easy to forget the rest of the city. My lingering thoughts of his kiss from last night feel selfish now. From what I’ve seen of the city and its people so far… if I didn’t need money for my sister, I would step aside and give Karkinos the chance to find a real queen. “But he will find another queen, I’m sure.”

She shoots a look at me. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

I look away, scanning the faces of the crowd as guilt sinks my stomach. I catch the gaze of a little girl standing and holding her mother’s hand, frowning at me. She’s not much older than Marina.

I smile at her and hold up a piece of cake with a raised eyebrow. Her frown turns to wide eyes, and I stand from my seat and walk to her with the cake. A guard blocks my way, but Kilandra waves a hand, and he lets me through.

I walk up to the girl and ask her mother if I can give her the cake. “Of course, sacrifice,” her mother says, looking excited at the attention. The entire cafe is looking when I hand the girl the cake.

“Could you… bless this?” The mother pulls a necklace from around her neck. It has a cameo on it, with a picture of a beautiful red-headed woman.

“Who is this?” I ask, although dread sinks into my stomach with recognition.

“Queen Yvette. Long live the queen,” the woman says. She holds the necklace out to me hopefully, and I kiss it, unsure what else to do, and give it back to her. Her face lights up in gratitude. I feel like an imposter.

I slip back behind the guards, returning to my seat.

Kilandra watches me quietly, her antennae craned forward. Now that I’ve seen one, I recognize more cameos around people’s necks.

“They pray to the founders of their city,” Kilandra says.

“And how do I fit in?”

She shakes her head. “The Zodiac Association holds its secrets closely. All I know is, the bond between you is important to him. And I believe, important to the city. Before I saw you and Karkinos last night, I had hoped that you might decline the sacrifice duties, as you are not Atlantan. But now I find myself torn. As Karkinos’ friend, I would not rob him of happiness.” Her antennae wave restlessly.

“I have only committed to tonight.”

Kilandra shakes her head. “I’m not asking for a commitment from you now. I only ask that if you choose him, you consider choosing Atlantis as well. You could do good work here.”

“Will I end up on a pendant?”

Kilandra quirks a smile at my joke, eyes twinkling, but they soon turn serious. “Yvette is a symbol of hope. She built schools and hospitals. She made sure nobody went hungry. You’re good with people. You could have a real impact on people’s lives. Think about that.”

My heart pounds in my chest, stomach rolling in guilt and confusion as Kilandra stands and walks us out of the cafe. We drive home in silence.

It’s only when I’m back in my room, with the door shut firmly behind me, that I close my eyes and slump against the door. I’m totally out of my depth. When I’m with Karkinos, all I want to do is be with him more. But when we’re apart, there are constant reminders of what being with him means.

Whatever I had hoped to experience with Karkinos, I won’t be able to get the image of his dead wife’s face out of my mind.

11

KARKINOS

My gaze roams the ballroom, not caring if I look bored and impatient, champagne glass in hand. My guests circle me like vultures.

I’m seated on a throne at the head of the ballroom, wearing yet another formal outfit, this time with a red vest split open to the waist in a deep V, revealing my tattoos and the edges of my shoulder armor. It’s not comfortable.

My guests have the luxury of dressing in more conventional formal wear — tuxedos and ball gowns fill the room in a wide range of bright colors.