Morgan's POV

  Keep moving. Keep moving. The command pulsed through me like a heartbeat long after my strength had frayed. It felt like a lifetime since I first plunged into the Great Glacia Ocean, an eternity of restless limbs carving through cold, punishing darkness. I hadn’t dared rise to the surface to check the time; the thought of Wolfmen, Sunstarian scouts, or stray enemy boats prowling above was enough to keep me breathing water instead of air.

  Part of me wanted to let go, to simply sink, to surrender this endless, indifferent blue. I couldn’t find my way back to the Aquamarine Kingdom. The ocean stretched like a world without edges, and I was so small inside it. The weeds below swayed in slow, delicate arcs, like eyelashes brushing the seafloor. If only I could command plants, or stir the minds of sea creatures. But those gifts belonged to others, not to me.

  A soft chirp rippled behind me. A dolphin gliding close: small, bright-eyed, harmless. Until it opened its mouth and the illusion broke. Rows of sharp teeth gleamed back at me.

  A little shark. And it was hungry.

  I propelled myself forward, arms and legs thrashing in a desperate, graceless rhythm. Panic drowned out every other instinct. If I were someone stronger—someone older—I would have bent the water to my will. But my magic flickered weakly inside me, a candle smothered by exhaustion. I felt like a child trapped in a teenager’s body, too slight, too tired to be anything formidable.

  My vision blurred, swallowing detail until only patches of pale sand remained beneath me.

  And the little shark closing in.

  Then—light. A soft, fluorescent glow cut through the water, washing over my failing senses with warmth I hadn’t felt in days. Strong arms scooped me from the dark. When I opened my eyes, the man's silhouette was carrying me over his back, guiding me home.

  The Aquamarine Kingdom rose from the depths like an ancient dream, its dark-blue palace clad in coral and pearl, towers spiraling upward as sharp as a narwhal’s tusk. Mosses curled over the pillars in careful patterns, imitating the elegance of shellwork.

  Waiting at the entrance, a man regarded me with a hardened expression.

  "Here's the half-blood again, losing her way and getting saved by our messenger," Lord Aalto said.

  Those royal-blue eyes—lighter than Aice’s, but heavier with history—barely softened. Nothing about him mirrored his flamboyant son.

  "It's not your fault that you can't sense us," the messenger whispered to me, almost apologetic.

  "Have you passed my message to the Water King?" Lord Aalto asked as we walked through the corridors.

  "Yes, my lord, and we're going to have a meeting at the conference room."

  The messenger’s gaze flicked to mine, a quiet farewell lingering in it, but Lord Aalto’s voice cut the moment short. "Bring the noble girl with us. She's seen the incident."

  We entered the chamber, and my aunt, the Water Queen, rushed toward me with arms already open.

  "My precious Morgan, you came back! We were so worried about you," she said as her fingers sifted through my damp, wavy hair. "Go take a seat."

  I sat beside the messenger, absorbing the unfamiliar silence. This court had once been a place of vibrant chatter. Now, the quiet pressed in like deep water. I pulled my wavy turquoise hair into a bun, needing the small control it gave me.

  "Forgive me, my queen, but where's King Aquamaurus?"

  "He led the troops over the southern border to meet the Greatspire King on the Dancing Island. He decided to accept their diplomacy and join forces with them to strengthen our defenses against vampires."

  "That's not relevant right now, as the vampire cases have lowered ever since the Vampire King's death," Lord Aalto stated. "I might add that your niece was almost bitten by a tiny shark. A shark food."

  "Clarification, we're not shark food, we're vampire food. Morgan is one of our kind so basically you were referring to our population," the Water Captain said with his domineering voice.

  "The Captain's right. Again, I'm really happy we got her back."

  "She's here now so no need to fuss about that. We must focus on our urgent matter to discuss," Lord Aalto said.

  "I care about my subjects as much as I do to my husband," the Water Queen said.

  "You must have a really good romance, huh. While in the midst of the Wolf King's rise to dominance," he brushed his mustache.

  "I still deny it. I don't believe it, Lord Aalto. You must bring back his body," the queen stated.

  Who? What are they talking about? The tension clung to the water-thick air, and a cold coil tightened in my chest. Something was wrong—terribly wrong.

  "My son can't be dead!" the queen shouted in rage. "I've sent the Water General to the Glacia Kingdom with a hundred of our army to get back my son. Your message must be a lie."

  Lord Aalto straightened himself. "Wade Grandiluxe is already dead. I've seen it with my own eyes. He died in my territory, his crushed bones would never be forgotten by my mud."

  The words hit me like a plunge into undertow—sharp, cold, merciless. Another chill slid over my spine, far worse than anything I felt while struggling alone in the ocean.

  "It was the Plant King's fault," Lord Aalto stated. "They headed to the Glacia's border instead of crossing the sea of the Sunstar Kingdom. And there, the Wolf King caught them in a deadly trap. We must move forward and not dwell on the past. I'm your spy after all, and you know the best to trust me."

  "You better not be a double spy," the queen hissed at him. "We must hear from my niece."

  So I told them. About the Sunstar Coliseum, its stone walls echoing with screams. About Arie and Skymint in my block. The arena fights that drenched the sand in violence. Our escape, fragile and desperate, toward the route to the Fresha Kingdom. Every word felt like dredging memories from deep currents, still murky with fear.

  The queen glanced toward my savior. "Out, messenger."

  He gave me one last soft look, almost apologetic, before slipping away. And suddenly the chamber felt too open, too quiet, as if the water around us held its breath.

  Lord Aalto raised his chin. "Please bring her out too."

  "I can't possibly do that, I have to keep an eye on her. She'll be safe here." The queen looked at me. "Morgan, you are now part of the council."

  "We've got a minor in the council before you give me back the Water Captain role," Lord Aalto muttered.

  "You are an advisor already, a lord in Glacia and a spy for our kingdom," the queen stated. "Captain, what's the protocol?"

  "Never provoke the royals," he answered. "No mercy, no chances. Otherwise, you get thrown to the Shallow Cave." He added it with a smirk—far too pleased with the threat he dangled.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  A tremor rippled through me. Here, surrounded by endless water, my voice felt trapped, muted, swallowed, like a plea sinking before it ever surfaced. Outside, my words carried. Here, they drowned.

  "He's a royal too," I stated.

  "A direct bloodline, half-blood." His stare hardened—cold, deliberate, a quiet threat wrapped in civility. I shut my mouth and dared not speak again.

  "You may be my husband's brother, but you're lower than me. State my title, Aalto. Do it, before you piss me off." The queen demanded, her voice smooth but edged like a blade drawn halfway from its sheath.

  "Rebecca Grandiluxe, the Water Queen."

  "Good. Let's begin our discussion regarding our weapon." She placed her arms on the table, fingers poised with the composure of someone who already knew the direction of every outcome. "Go on, Plavia."

  "The Apex Lyssoto is in the making. The Dark Era will come, and with our knowledge, we can stop it from becoming a threat to us," the Poet Seer stated. Her tone wove itself like a distant prophecy threading into the room’s dim glow. "And such, we decided to weaponize it. I foresee that by allying with Glacia, we'll become the first in line of defense in the Frenzy War."

  "What's the Frenzy War?" I asked, though something in her voice already curled unease into my stomach.

  "It's something we have to be prepared for, Morgan. A really, really bad event that will come upon history."

  "How about the Apex Lyssoto?"

  "We'll know when the time comes."

  ***

  Felipe's POV

  Inside the gloomy chamber, I sat upon the throne—the only ember flickering in this frozen kingdom. Fire wrapped around me like a second skin. Borvik knelt on the stone floor, fastening the sharp metal claws to my gauntlet, every bolt echoing through the cold like a ritual of preparation.

  "Any news about the Sunstar Kingdom?" I asked, hoping—no, demanding—something worthwhile.

  "The Sand General is temporarily running the kingdom, and King Jamaico's still missing, my king." He answered, voice crisp with respect. "Although, we obtained supplies of enchanted objects."

  "That megadamn mango-head. If only he wasn't careless, the Ice Princess is mine now. I wonder where she is."

  My ears twitched at the sound—footsteps, slow and deliberate, heels tapping lightly across the ice in a rhythm far too casual for someone walking into a king’s throne room.

  "Thanks to this secret passageway, I can sneak in as much as I want. Still looking for my niece, aren't we, darling?"

  She emerged from behind the throne, as if peeled from the darkness itself. Laura, shadow stitched into a woman’s shape. Black curls tousled like she’d danced with a storm, porcelain skin catching the faint glimmer of torchlight, and a dark purple robe laced across her chest like a deliberate warning.

  "What are you doing here, Laura? Now's not the time for cooling me down."

  "Not with your servant here."

  "How are our hybrids?" I asked.

  "You mean our sweet little babies?" She pouted with a softness that never fooled me.

  "I prefer offspring, darling." As Borvik attached the final claw, he bowed—respectful, fearful—and left us alone in the vast chamber.

  Only the two of us remained: me, and the witch who could unravel kingdoms with a smile.

  "Their future was secured, but our babies would be in danger soon because you took down my embezzlement business, Felipe." She crossed her arms, a calculating spark blooming in her eyes.

  I raised an eyebrow. "Business? I don't know such stuff you're dealing with. And calling me by my name... that's unusual."

  "Hmmph, just trying to be formal. It doesn't fit me I know. The Guardian of Polarmen, free him. He's my instrument, darling."

  I rose from my throne, amusement curling up my throat. "Him? The Guardian? I can't fathom you'd replace me with such a lowly being."

  "Don't be jealous, I'd never consider that old man. All I want is money from him," she answered with a sly smile.

  "It confuses me... as to why you would want money from him. I'm wealthier than him, I've got all the charisma in the world, three kingdoms upon my claws. Our hybrids would be able to inherit my fortune."

  "You're getting the wrong idea, darling." Her voice lowered, confident, unbothered—danger wrapped in velvet. "I'm doing it to break their stability, including Fresha, and make them submit under your rule."

  "Turning them into submission would be quicker if I had Arie, with her Dreamer's Magic. How's her brother?"

  A hush fell—sharp, deliberate. For a heartbeat Laura stood perfectly still, then her fingers curled into her hair, tugging with a near-feral frustration before dropping her hand like a discarded truth.

  "It didn't work." She exhaled, the sound thin, nearly brittle. "First of all, the handsome prince's body was only a shadow of flesh on a skeleton, secondly, his soul was nowhere to be retrieved from the oblivion."

  "But you were able to resurrect yourself after being burned at the stake five years ago."

  "Of course—it's my own life, it would be easier than salvaging someone else's." She toyed with a strand of her dark curls, twirling it as if it could distract her from her own limitations.

  "How am I going to trick Arie and Skymint now that I don't have bait?" I growled, irritation scraping my lungs raw.

  "She would take care of them." Laura winked, too casual for the weight of her words. "Plus, I have a special visitor for you today, the best punisher for the Light and Ice noble. Thirsted them off blood like you commanded."

  A glimmer sparked in her violet gaze—delight, hunger, something dangerous blooming like ink in water.

  "Summon the owner of this choker, caged."

  The air rippled. Then came the figure—twisted, dehydrated lips, fangs clenched tight, eyelids reddened by starvation and fury, body confined within gleaming metal bars.

  I smiled, wide and sharp. Yet beneath the satisfaction, something cold tugged at the back of my mind. Something in Laura's behavior—too smooth, too rehearsed—felt off.

  Laura… what are you hiding from me?

  ***

  Skadar's POV

  I’ve been called to the throne room. Again. And despite everything, a part of me clings to the notion that if Felipe still summons me, he still considers me useful.

  Or controllable.

  I approached the looming doors with practiced confidence and stepped onto the long sweep of crimson carpet. Felipe waited on the elevated floor, claws of sharpened metal glinting beneath the chandelier’s frosted glow, an executioner dressed as a king.

  I bowed at the right angle. "What can I do for you, King Felipe?"

  "I want you to surrender your fruit cube, and immerse your hands over this pure water."

  The sight of the shimmering bowl tightened my breath. "The ability cleanser from my kingdom. Of course, you have easy access because of me." I stepped closer, forcing my pulse to steady. "Is it to prove my loyalty?"

  "Indeed," he said, voice clipped—almost bored.

  I lifted my black, polished cube. He plucked it from my hand with his metal claws, sealing it into a waiting box with a sharp click.

  Then came the water. The moment my hands sank beneath its glowing surface, my power dimmed to nothing. A hollowing sensation crawled up my arms—becoming human again always felt like losing half my bones.

  "You still haven't found the Ice Princess?"

  "Not yet, King Felipe."

  His fist struck before I registered the movement—a crack against my jaw that sent blood splattering onto the cold floor.

  "Liar!" Felipe roared. "There's no way that in Glacia, Fresha, and Sunstar, you had never found her. What a shame to a double elemental fruit master."

  Pain split through my skull, hot and dizzying. I tasted iron. One of my teeth felt loose.

  "I'd never lie to you, King Felipe!" I forced out, voice taut with agony. "Remember, she had Dreamer's Magic—Arie could basically do anything. I'm just a human relying on outer magic."

  "She is inhumane because of her magic," he snapped, "and you are much worse."

  The kick hit my arm with sickening precision.

  "Arrrgh!" My scream tore out before I could swallow it.

  "A lying, weakling human. Another bastard that proves that humans are vile." Another kick—harder, crueler—slammed into my other arm, metal against bone.

  Another cry escaped me.

  My breath faltered, ragged. My vision wavered, edges blurring like frost spreading across glass. Only when I felt the cold drip down my cheeks did I recognize the sting for what it was.

  Tears.

  Crystal drops pooling on the frozen floor—my weakness reflected back at me.

  Then came the slap—clean, merciless—landing precisely over the scar I’d earned from that white-furred freak. The sting flared, sharp as frostbite. I bit down hard on my tongue, swallowing the urge to retaliate. Provoking him would only invite another storm of blows, and I was already breaking beneath the weight of this one.

  "I admit it—I did it to keep Arie sealed, so I could hand her to you. As soon as I discovered she had escaped, I decided to lie to not disappoint you, King Felipe."

  Felipe’s brow lifted, his expression smoothing into something almost gentle—almost.

  "How sweet, that you'd consider how I'd feel if you were honest with me. Come and do one thing for me, and your sins will be all cleared, and your... scar."

  I eased down into a crouch, fingers brushing the hidden seam of my boot until they found the needle concealed within. Rising with measured calm, I struck—fast and precise—driving the sliver of metal into the root of his furry tail.

  "Bloody Frost!" Felipe snarled, the chamber erupting with his fury.

  I barely had time to pivot before pain lanced through my neck—two sharp points, sinking deep. My limbs weakened instantly, turning traitor to my will. A vampire latched onto me with ravenous force, draining me with a hunger that felt ancient.

  "No, no, NOOOOOOO!" My scream tore free, only to be smothered as ghost-white hands, veined black, nails like polished obsidian, clamped over my face.

  And then I saw her: Lady Collfumes.

  Her expression detached, predatory.

  Beside her, another figure, a vampire I did not recognize.

  A cold realization flooded through me.

  She’s the vampire.

  I’m going to turn into a vampire. I’m going to turn into a vampire.

  I cannot be—I'm a Finnian—the son of the light.

  "I should have had covered armor for my tail," Felipe muttered somewhere behind the haze, his voice smug and distant, "but it would be uncomfortable. Not a good experience."

  Those were the last words I heard before the world collapsed into pain—raw, consuming—and a denial so deep it cracked something inside me.