Four months.
For the first time in four months, Cesealia woke up to warmth. Arthur was next to her—not just next to her, but holding her. His arm was wrapped securely around her waist, his chest rising and falling steadily against her back. She stayed there for a moment, her heart aching. This is what she wanted. What she always wanted.
To wake up like this.
To belong here, in his arms.
She carefully turned to face him, her movements slow, almost hesitant. His face was relaxed in sleep, golden hair tousled, lips slightly parted.
Cesealia's breath hitched.
How had they come to this? Months apart, a wedge between them? How was that possible?
She watched him for a moment longer—then silently slipped away.
Outside, the early morning breeze was cool against her skin as she stepped out of the tent.
The sun was barely rising, the sky painted in streaks of purple and gold.
Cesealia inhaled deeply, her mind restless.
She always did this back at home—home.
Her chest tightened.
She had given Arthur a hard time for speaking of home so much, and yet… here she was, thinking of it just the same.
A voice suddenly cut through her thoughts.
"Good morning."
Cesealia turned, surprised.
Mandoriya was standing a few feet away, arms loosely crossed, smiling softly.
Cesealia forced a polite nod. "Morning."
Mandoriya tilted her head. "How did you sleep?"
Cesealia hesitated.
Arthur.
His warmth.
His breath against her skin.
She blushed. "Great—I slept great."
Mandoriya's smile widened. "That's good."
For a moment, they had a normal conversation.
Cesealia talked about how she used to watch the sunrise at her grandmother's house. Mandoriyah spoke of the sea, how the tides whispered differently every morning.
For a second, Cesealia thought—maybe they could be civil.
Maybe this didn't have to be a rivalry.
Then—Mandoriyah sighed, her expression darkening.
"I need you out of my way."
Cesealia stiffened. "Excuse me?"
Mandoriyah tilted her head. "I tried the nice way. I tried the hard way. I tried everything—" Her tone was almost bored. "And you just won't go away."
Cesealia's fingers twitched toward her knife.
Too late.
A hand snatched her wrist. She gasped, twisting—but another woman appeared beside Mandoriyah. And then—another.
They all looked similar—same hair, same piercing eyes.
Mermaids.
One of them said. "What should we do with her, Your Grace?"
Mandoriyah hummed, tapping a finger to her lips.
Then—she smiled.
"Take her to Deogens."
Cesealia's blood ran cold.
"I think I want her to be my wedding gift to Arthur."
Cesealia's stomach dropped.
" Wedding?" she breathed.
Mandoriyah's smile was almost sweet.
"Yes."
Then, leaning in, she whispered—" We're engaged… he just doesn't know it yet."
Cesealia barely had time to struggle before the mermaids bound her wrists, dragging her into the shadows.
Arthur awoke to the warmth of the sun filtering through the gaps in the tent, the scent of salt and damp earth surrounding him.
His arms instinctively reached out, expecting the familiar shape of Cesealia's body beside him.
But she wasn't there.
His heart pounded.
He shot upright, scanning the tent. Her cloak was gone. Her boots—gone.
Something was wrong.
Arthur rushed outside, his voice sharp as he barked to the crew, "Where is she?"
The men looked at each other in confusion. "She was here last night, Your Grace," one of them stammered.
"She isn't now," he snapped, his panic barely contained.
The crew scrambled, calling her name as they searched the area. Arthur's hands curled into fists, his mind racing with the worst possibilities.
And then—
Mandoriyah appeared from the edge of the jungle, her expression grim.
"They took her," she said.
Arthur's blood turned to ice. "Who?"
"My people," Mandoriyah swallowed hard. "They must have thought she killed our guardian. "
The world tilted.
The mermaids. The very people they had been trying to find.
His jaw clenched. "Where?"
Mandoriyah turned, pointing toward the cliffs beyond the jungle.
"The entrance to our kingdom lies beneath the waves. If you want her back, you'll have to go through them."
Arthur didn't hesitate.
He spun on his heel, heading straight for the ship. The crew followed, their expressions a mix of concern and determination.
He stopped at the gangway, turning to face his men.
"I want everyone to listen carefully," he said, his voice ironclad.
The second-in-command, a young but capable sailor, stepped forward.
"If I do not return by sunrise, you take the ship back to my father. Tell him everything. Tell him it's war."
The young man's face paled. "Your Grace, we can't leave you behind—"
Arthur placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "With Cesealia missing, and if I don't come back… You are the captain now."
The boy stiffened.
Arthur pulled off his captain's hat and placed it atop the young man's head.
"May the tides guide you," Arthur murmured. "Strong and true."
Then, without another word, he turned away, Mandoriyah at his side.
And with a final glance at his crew, he disappeared into the jungle—heading toward the unknown depths of the mermaid kingdom, where his love had been taken. Mandoriyah stepped forward, lifting her hands. The water shimmered, a gate appearing before them, swirling like a living mirror.
"This will take us to the Merlands," she said.
The first gate was in ruins.
Arthur stepped forward, the scent of salt heavy in the air. Pillars crumbled around them, remnants of a kingdom that once stood strong.
She frowned. " No… this isn't right."
She turned and opened another gate—one far older, far stronger.
It pulsed with ancient power, and the moment they stepped through—
They were somewhere else.
A kingdom hidden beneath the sea, yet… here, they could breathe.
The outside was filled with endless water, but inside was a bubble of air—a world untouched by time.
Arthur's boots hit the smooth stone floor. He immediately took in his surroundings.
Cesealia. Where is she?
Before he could speak, a deep voice echoed through the chamber.
"Welcome," a voice echoed.
Arthur turned, his grip on Excalibur tightening.
At the far end of the throne room, seated upon a massive coral-carved throne, was the King of the Merlands.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Arthur."
Again, Information he never relayed, first his age. Now his name. He stepped forward.
"I have traveled a great distance to return to Mandoriyah home," he said. "I was very distressed to be attacked by your guardian. It was I who killed it. If you seek justice, seek it with me—not Cesealia."
The king studied him, then—to Arthur's complete confusion—nodded.
"You have my thanks, Arthur Pendragon."
Arthur stiffened.
"That's Prince Arthur Pendragon," he corrected. "Son of Arthuria and Gilgamesh."
The king smirked.
"Yes… I know your father well. Shall I send word to your father of your acceptance, then?"
Arthur frowned. "Acceptance to what?"
The king's expression remained amused.
" To wed my daughter, of course."
THE AQUATIC RELAM