"Name him again with poison on your tongue, and I will remind you why the sea bows to me, not you."
The stars hung low over the Fae Castle, their silver eyes watching as the sea wind ghosted through the marble arches. I stood on the moon-washed balcony, cloaked in silence, letting the hum of the realm settle into my bones. The waters were restless, still always whispering, always pulling.
I heard him before I saw him. Lord Ardanis, ever the courteous wolf in silk.
"You're far from the deep, Sovereign," he said as he stepped up beside me. "Does it call to you, even here?"
I did not answer. Not directly. My gaze stayed fixed on the distant horizon, where the sea met the sky like a stitched scar. "The sea never stops speaking," I said. "Even in sleep, it remembers."
Ardanis chuckled. "And what has it remembered, this time? You came swiftly. That usually means something stirred."
I offered him nothing but a faint shrug, letting silence answer in my stead.
