Deep Blue (Waterfire Saga, #1)(16)

“Trouble with your parents?” Serafina asked, her eyes full of concern.

“That’s an understatement. We fought about it for weeks. Major drama. I bet I ate twenty boxes of zee-zees. In one day.”

Neela’s dream was to become a designer, but her parents wouldn’t allow that. Or anything else. She was a Matalin princess and Matalin princesses were to dress well, look decorative, and one day marry—and that was all. Neela wanted so much more, though. Color made her heart beat faster. Fabric came alive in her hands. She had passion and talent and she wanted to use them.

Serafina took her hand. “I’m sorry, Neels.”

“Oh, well. I can’t ever be a designer, but I can pretend.”

“You are a designer,” Serafina said, suddenly fierce. “Designers design. That’s what you did. And it doesn’t matter who likes it and who doesn’t.”

Neela smiled. Sera was as loyal as a lionfish, quick to defend those she loved. It was one of the many reasons Neela adored her.

“I just hope Alítheia doesn’t like pink. I don’t want her thinking I look like a large and tasty zee-zee,” said Neela. “Is it true she’s ten feet tall?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, like…why?”

“Quia Merrow decrevit.”

“Why the long, tortuous songspell?”

“Quia Merrow decrevit.”

“Why a betrothal at sixteen? That’s totally dark ages. Wait…don’t tell me. Let me guess.”

“Quia Merrow decrevit.”

“But Merrow decreed it, like, forty centuries ago, Sera. The tides have come in and gone out a few times since then, you know?”

“I do. Believe me, Neela, I’ve listened to so many conchs on Atlantis and Merrow for various courses, and I still haven’t figured out why she made all her weird decrees. The whole Dokimí thing is barbaric and backward. It’s from a time when life expectancy was short and principessas had to be ready to rule at a young age,” Serafina said. “The weirdest thing is, this ceremony declares me an adult, fit to rule, and yet I have no more idea about how to rule Miromara than I have about flying to the moon. I can’t even rule my own court.” She sighed heavily.

“What? What’s wrong?” Neela asked, her eyes searching Sera’s.

“My court,” Serafina said, making a face. “There’s this one merl….Her name’s Lucia…”

“I remember her,” Neela said. “The last time I was here, my skin had just started to glow. She told me I looked like fog light. In the nicest possible way, of course.”

“That sounds like Lucia,” Serafina said. “Neela, she said some things, about Mahdi.”

Oh, no, Neela thought. Time to change the subject. “Hey, you know what? Let’s swim,” she said. “Why don’t we head into the ruins? Stretch our tails? We can talk as we go.”

Neela pulled Sera up from the coral weed and they set off, swimming, through what had once been a doorway. Time had crumbled its ancient arch. The walls of the old palace had tumbled down, and the roof along with them. Anemones, corals, and wrack had colonized the mosaic floors. In what had once been Merrow’s Grand Hall, soaring blue quartz pillars still stood, hinting at lost glories.

“You should see the ruby necklace I’m wearing tonight. It’s my mother’s. It’s completely invincible,” Neela said as they swam together. She was babbling, desperate to keep the conversation from veering back to Mahdi.

“How are your parents?” Serafina asked.

“Great! Fabulous! They send their best and wish they could be here. But somebody has to hold down the fort in Uncle Bilaal’s absence.”

“And how are the emperor and empress? And your brother…and Mahdi?”

“Truly excellent. Although I haven’t seen them yet today. We got in around eight last night. I was so tired, I went straight to my room and fell into bed. Everyone else did the same.”

“Neela…”

“Oh! Did I tell you about the last state visit we all made? Ha! It’s such a funny story!” Neela said. She launched into all the details.

Serafina wasn’t really listening, though. “So, um, how’s Mahdi?” she finally broke in.

Neela’s heart sank. Her smile slipped.

Serafina stopped swimming. “What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Neela said brightly. “Mahdi’s fine.”

“He’s fine? My great-aunt Berta is fine. What are you not telling me?”

Neela pulled another sweet from her pocket. “Oh, super yum. Candied flatworm with eelgrass honey. Try it!” she said.

“Neela!”

“Well, he’s probably a little bit different from what you remember,” she said. “I mean, the last time you saw him was two years ago. We’re all different than we were then.”

“Look, I know you’re his cousin,” Serafina said. “But you’re also my friend. You have to tell me the truth.”

Neela sighed. “All right, then—here it is: his royal Mahdiness seems to be going through a phase. At least, that’s what Aunt Ahadi calls it. She blames it all on Yazeed.”

“Your brother? What does he have to do with it?”