“Thank you,” he replies. “As I am happy for you.”
I give him a quick smile and then shift my focus to business. Now that we’re alone in the antechamber, it hits me hard that we’re about to host a council meeting. We need to talk through our plan so it goes as smoothly as possible.
“I think the meeting will be pretty straightforward,” I say. “I’ll start by thanking them for coming, and then . . .”
I trail off as I realize Tellin is staring at me with a very confused expression on his face.
“What?” I ask. “Did you want to start the meeting?”
“No, I . . .” He shakes his head and smiles. “You do know that your hair is blue?”
I reach up and pull my hair to one side, trying to hide the blue section behind my hands. “Yes, I know.”
He nods, and I can tell he’s trying to stifle a laugh.
“Can we focus on the important issue, please?” I say, tugging at my hair. I channel my embarrassment into professionalism, sitting up straighter in the chair and leveling a serious look at Tellin. “We’re speaking at a council meeting in less than an hour, and I’d like to feel prepared when we swim in there.”
“Yes, of course,” Tellin says, his demeanor floating back to serious. “Please continue.”
“As I was saying . . .” I give him a stern scowl. “After the introduction, I will turn it over to you, and you can describe the situation in Acropora. Then I will make the official request for aid.”
“That sounds like an ideal plan,” he says, his voice soft and sad. “I will have no trouble describing the challenges facing my kingdom.”
I sigh. “I know. But just think,” I say, trying to sound cheerful and optimistic, “in a short time we’re going to be well on our way to getting your people the help they need.”
He doesn’t look quite as optimistic as I feel. “I hope you’re right,” he says. “I certainly hope you’re right.”
“I know I am,” I insist. “Our kin will rise to the occasion. I’m sure of it.”
“Is everyone here?” I ask, swimming back and forth in the hall outside the royal chamber.
Daddy’s secretary, Mangrove, checks his clipboard. “Nearly all, Princess.” He runs his finger down the list. “I believe we are missing but one.”
“Let me guess.” I pause my pacing long enough to look at him. “Queen Dumontia?”
“Yes, Princess.”
I exchange an unsurprised look with Tellin.
Dumontia is queen of Glacialis, a mer kingdom far to the north, in the arctic waters around Canada and Greenland. She is notoriously late, and not just because she has the farthest to travel. She enjoys making an entrance.
“But the others are here?” I ask, my stomach starting to tighten. “All the kings and queens?”
Mangrove nods. “It is time.”
“Oh, boy,” I mutter.
Tellin reaches out and takes my hand.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
A flutter of nerves upends my stomach, but only for a second. I remind myself why I’m doing this and what I expect to happen. Everything will be fine.
“Yes,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “Let’s do this.”
Together we turn to face the chamber door. A pair of palace guards nod and then pull open the doors as we approach.
“Your highnesses,” Mangrove calls out as Tellin and I swim into the chamber, “Crown Prince Tellin of Acropora and Crown Princess Waterlily of Thalassinia.”
In my most elaborate late-night imaginings, at the announcement of my entrance the entire chamber turns and stares at me, curious about the girl who dared call them to a council meeting. I imagined a mixture of anger and annoyance, and a lot of impatience.
In reality, as the echoes of the herald’s announcement fade and I float into the room, no one seems to notice.
Seriously, the thirty or so merfolk seated around the council table—a wide stone slab the size of my bedroom in Aunt Rachel’s house—don’t stop chattering in their various groups. Eight of them are kings and queens of other mer kingdoms, while the rest are their advisers and attendants. Even Daddy is so engrossed in a discussion with jolly King Bostrych of Trigonum, Thalassinia’s neighbor to the north, he doesn’t realize I’ve arrived.
For a moment, I relish the invisibility. I scan my gaze over the chamber’s occupants. Some are familiar to me; the leaders of the kingdoms nearest Thalassinia have been frequent guests at our royal events and celebrations. Others, from the more distant kingdoms, are only faintly familiar. I must have met them at state affairs once or twice, but I barely remember them. A couple are new rulers. I remember Daddy sending me notice of the death of the old king of Marbella Nova a couple years ago. One of the unfamiliar faces must be his daughter, Otaria, now the queen. And the queen of Rosmarus retired last fall, after a reign of nearly one hundred years, leaving her nephew as king. I can’t remember his name.
It is a little exhilarating to be in a room with so many powerful merfolk.
“Lily,” Tellin whispers, releasing my hand and nodding toward the head of the table.
I nod back. I know what he’s trying to tell me, that I should stop gawking and get on with it.
I swim around the edge of the room, past the arguing king of Desfleurelle and queen of Costa Solara—the two kingdoms are neighbors and notorious rivals, so it’s not surprising that they’re arguing—and around the queen of Antillenes, who is in a hushed conversation with two members of her retinue.