Hearing the words "Little Lord," the blue-haired mermaid's face froze. A twitch of irritation flickered across his jawline, then spread to his eyes, turning them sharp and cold. His once regal posture stiffened, and a shadow crept into his expression.
Little Lord?
He had just been demoted.
And now this fool—this wide-eyed, panicked fishling—had the nerve to call him that?
His lips parted, ready to snap back with a biting remark, but before he could even speak, the three sharks went completely still. Their eyes widened. They weren't looking at him anymore.
Without another word, they swam ahead, and he followed them through a narrow passageway between two high coral cliffs. The space between the cliffs was tight, but beautiful—lined with seaweed in every shape and color. Greens, deep purples, even golden strands that looked like ribbons. It was quiet here, like the sea itself knew to hush.
And then, they reached it.
