The tenderness of the previous night — a warmth that had outshone the very stars — was locked by Delilah in the softest, most carefully guarded corner of her heart.
When she reappeared at Sophia's door the next morning, nothing had changed — save for the faintest, barely-perceptible flicker of her eyes whenever her gaze found Sophia. She was still the same cold, razor-sharp, iron-blooded General, the kind who looked as though she could cut down every obstacle in the world for her sovereign without blinking.
And Sophia was still the same cool, unhurried Queen — remote and imperious, as though the kiss that had carried the scent of wild berries the night before had been nothing more than some absurd dream Delilah had conjured on her own.
After tidying themselves and finishing the simple breakfast Willow had prepared by hand, Old Pierre appeared at the courtyard gate right on time.
His expression was one of barely-contained excitement, a brightness glimmering even in those usually cloudy eyes. He bent at the waist in a deep bow toward Sophia, his voice carrying an edge of urgency.
"Your Majesty!
"This old servant entered the Palace last night without delay and conveyed your... your goodwill — along with the news of the King of Orr's 'unfortunate passing' — to His Majesty the King.
"Upon hearing that a guest of your caliber had arrived — a guest who commands the miracles of the land itself — His Majesty expressed tremendous enthusiasm.
"She... His Majesty... is very eager to share a noon meal with you."
When Old Pierre mentioned 'His Majesty the King,' there was a peculiar, unspoken pride threading through his voice.
Sophia gave a slight nod and set down her teacup with effortless grace.
"Since our host is so warm in their welcome, This Queen shall follow their lead. Lead the way, Monsieur Pierre."
The carriage climbed upward along a road paved with crushed stone and sea-snail shells.
Avalon's Royal Palace stood at the very peak of Cape Town's highest and most precipitous cliff.
To call it a palace was generous — to eyes accustomed to the refined grandeur of the mainland, it looked far more like a stone compound that had been expanded over generations, possessing a fierce and untamed beauty all its own. Enormous whale ribs, bleached snow-white by the sea, formed interlocking arched gateways, and at the center stood a three-story castle built from deep-blue sea stones.
There were none of the labyrinthine corridors typical of a land kingdom. The rear of the castle opened directly onto a deep, furious expanse of sea. The sound of waves crashing against the stone walls was the most natural soundtrack imaginable.
The furnishings were simple to the point of rawness — and yet there was a grandeur to it, a feeling that you could fling open a window and look straight down into a bottomless abyss and an endless ocean. Even the well-traveled Sophia found herself quietly giving this particular 'interior design style' full marks in her mind.
When Sophia and her retinue stepped into the great hall, a sight greeted them that left everyone thoroughly surprised.
The figure seated upon the throne — draped in seal pelts — was not some white-bearded old man. It was a woman radiating a staggering vitality.
She stood as tall as Delilah. Years of wrestling against sun and sea wind had given her skin a deep, perfectly even, deeply appealing bronze. Her arms were corded with muscle; her build was even more solidly powerful than Delilah's, projecting the kind of raw strength capable of going hand-to-hand with a sea beast. She wore no heavy armor — only a neat vest and short skirt stitched from fish scales, wild and utterly self-assured.
"Ha! Pierre wasn't wrong — merchants from far away... truly as beautiful as the colorful foam on the sea!"
Avalon's Queen — Marlena — vaulted down from her throne in one fluid leap. Her movements were extraordinarily agile, her personality as boisterously free as a sudden storm rolling in off the water.
She strode forward and looked Sophia over without any pretense of restraint, a bright, open laugh breaking from her lips.
"Welcome to Avalon!
"We don't stand on ceremony here the way you land-dwellers do — but our fish and our wine are absolutely bottomless!
"Bring out the feast!"
For want of seasoning, Avalon's royal banquet had a kind of almost obsessive 'primal beauty' to it.
The wooden tables were covered with great basins of salt-baked sea prawns, steamed sea fish, and thick-sliced charcoal-grilled shellfish. No complex spices — only the purest sea salt and a little sea-beast fat. And yet the sheer natural umami of the ingredients themselves was enough to send Irene and Daphne into a state of pure, uncomplicated bliss.
The most eye-catching item on the table, however, was the coconuts — split cleanly open, their liquid clear, sweet, and cold.
Sophia lifted a coconut half and took a small sip of the transparent liquid. Its clean, refreshing taste cut instantly through the salt and brine on her palate, and she let her eyes drift half-shut for just a moment.
A Queen with a physique and temperament like this...
The power structure of Avalon is considerably more stable and uncomplicated than I anticipated. No elaborate ritual needed to maintain authority — her fists and her personality are the law themselves.
Watching the efficient ease with which Marlena peeled prawns, Sophia decided she could be a workable partner. Since the Queen of Avalon preferred directness, there would be no need for roundabout maneuvering when it came time to discuss business.
After all — she seemed to prefer tangible grain over flowery words.
Hailey, still valiantly sucking at her coconut juice, scrawled rapidly in her notebook:
Avalon Palace.
I have met another Queen.
She is like a wave in the open sea — wild and powerful.
And our Majesty is the immovable ice plain.
Each prawn was half a palm's width at least, its shell turned a near-translucent coral red under the scorching coarse salt. When Irene, unable to wait a moment longer, cracked open that shell — salt crystals still faintly warm, the casing shattering with a satisfying snap — the taut, spring-like prawn meat leapt free. The texture wasn't soft; it had a wild, resilient chew to it. The saltiness of the sea sat only at the very surface, which only made the clean, spring-water sweetness of the flesh beneath it all the more striking.
That was Queen Marlena's proudest prize.
The great red crabs had been split open in simple, decisive halves, revealing their white, strand-by-strand meat, pale as fresh snow. Daphne lifted a piece on a silver pick and dipped it lightly into the accompanying dish of secret-recipe vinegar, which carried the tartness of wild fruit. The moment it touched her tongue, the crab meat's delicate fibers seemed to dissolve — a richness more lush than any land-grown cream. And the golden, oil-laden crab roe tucked deep within the shell came with a deep-sea intensity that clung to the roof of the mouth, as though it could transport you in an instant to the blue stillness a thousand meters below the surface.
The fish skin had been grilled to a caramel-brown crisp, dotted with finely chopped rosemary and coarse rock salt crystals. When Delilah drew her dagger and split the skin, the flesh inside still held its full load of clear, crystalline juices, steaming upward as they were released. Every bite of the belly meat was absurdly luscious — the fat ruptured gently in the mouth, and without the interference of excess seasoning, all that remained was the purest, most elemental richness of fish fat, nothing more.
After that rolling barrage of bold, briny sweetness, the cleanly-split coconuts became the perfect punctuation mark.
Sophia lifted the coconut shell and let the transparent liquid slide down her throat. It carried the faint fragrance of cool grass and a light, milky warmth — washing away the heat that the sea salt had built up, leaving nothing behind but a mouth full of clean refreshment.
Partway through the meal, Queen Marlena wiped the oil from the corner of her mouth and fixed a serious gaze on Sophia, who was dining with her customary unhurried elegance.
"Your Majesty Sophia.
"Let's talk now — what kind of future does this 'Mason' of yours, the one that brought down Orr, intend to bring to my people?"
The moment Marlena's words landed, the harmonious coconut-scented feast froze as though a block of ice had been dropped into it. The atmosphere solidified in the space of a single breath.
The Queen of the Sea propped her chin on one hand, the other idly tracing the edge of a crab shell, her gaze blazingly direct as it locked onto Sophia's face. In those eyes lived both the scrutiny of one strong person measuring another, and an infatuation she could no longer conceal — a hunger born of being dazzled by land civilization, and the desire to possess it.
Sophia's expression did not change in the slightest at the challenging question.
She set down the coconut shell — still faintly fragrant — with unhurried ease, took the silk cloth Willow offered, and cleaned her fingertips one by one with the deliberate precision of someone performing a sacred ritual.
"Queen Marlena," Sophia said, tilting her head slightly, those pale golden pupils catching the candlelight with a rational clarity.
"Rather than asking me what kind of future I intend to bring Avalon — why don't you first tell me: in your vision, in what manner does Avalon intend to enter the territory of my Mason?"
That single counter-question kicked the ball cleanly back into Marlena's court.
Marlena straightened up. The taut lines of her bronzed muscles shifted subtly beneath her fish-scale vest. The wealth of Mason had shaken her — but the pride of Avalon's monarch kept her from bowing her head completely.
"That old snake from Orr was revolting, but he did give Avalon enough freedom," Marlena said, raising one eyebrow. Her gaze swept across Sophia's cool collarbones, and her tone took on a dangerous warmth.
"Your Majesty Sophia — your gifts are sweet, and your General is formidable. But Avalon also has a boundless ocean.
"What if we governed together? Avalon's sea remains mine — but your grain and your miracles are shared with my people. In return, this stretch of ocean becomes Mason's most impregnable gate, and sea products go to you first.
"Between us — equal partners. Perhaps... even something closer?"
As she said something closer, Marlena leaned slightly forward, an aggressive beauty to the motion.
Thud.
That was the sound of Irene setting her coconut shell down. Hard.
Irene, who had been cheerfully sucking at her juice only a moment ago, now had blue eyes full of mocking amusement, a scornful arc pulling at the corner of her mouth.
Daphne set down her silver pick as well. The Holy Light around her was soft — but beneath that softness, something had gone distinctly cold, like the air before a temple delivers its judgment.
Delilah's reaction was the most immediate of all.
Those crimson eyes narrowed to slits in an instant. Her hand settled onto the hilt of her sword, her entire body coiling like a bow drawn to its limit.
In her view, this woman in her fish-scale vest had the audacity to suggest she could stand as an equal to Her Majesty — and on top of that, was looking at her sovereign with that unmistakably covetous gaze. It was nothing short of blasphemy against a deity.
A single look from Sophia and this whale-bone hall would become a sea of blood.
"Equal?"
Sophia let out a quiet laugh. It was an extraordinarily beautiful sound — and it made every hair on the back of Marlena's neck stand up at once.
"Marlena — the wildness you take such pride in is, in my eyes, nothing more than uncultivated wasteland."
Sophia raised her head. The Black Rose cape moved in the sea wind with a sound like tearing silk. With every word she spoke, the pressure in the hall deepened by one more degree.
"Irene, at my side — her ideas can make steel walk and turn the darkest night into day. In Mason, we have already begun to tame lightning and steam. Your people still pray to the wind just to survive."
"Daphne — she is a Saint blessed by the goddess herself. She can not only cure what you call the Sea God's curse, she can breathe new life into entire nations even after plague has taken root. The suffering you regard as hopeless despair is, in her eyes, nothing more than dust — curable with a single gesture."
"As for Delilah — since I could bring her to level Orr, I can just as easily have her take over your Royal City without deploying a single additional soldier. That shell-armor defense of yours? In the face of Mason's fire, it's more fragile than sea foam."
"Most importantly — I have enough grain to ensure tens of millions of subjects never know hunger. Avalon... cannot even grow a single decent head of wheat."
Sophia rose and walked to stand before Marlena, looking down at the bronzed Queen from above, her voice carrying the cold, absolute weight of an ultimatum.
"Submit to Mason, and Avalon will say farewell to seaweed paste and live on rice and flour, and see the beauty of flowers in bloom.
"Refuse — and I have other means of changing who these waters answer to."
Hailey, crouched in the shadow beneath the stone table, her small face flushed bright red by the sword-drawn tension of the scene, flew her pen across the page:
Queen Marlena attempted to use beauty and geography to curry favor with Her Majesty — even presuming to call herself an equal.
She didn't know: on Her Majesty's board, there has never been equality. There is only submission.
I understand now! The reason Her Majesty laid out each of her companions' abilities one by one was to give Avalon one last chance at a dignified surrender.
Looking at the way Queen Marlena has been struck dumb by Her Majesty's presence — and yet her eyes are blazing brighter than ever — Hailey knows: she isn't just afraid. She has fallen completely, utterly in love with the feeling of being dominated.
After all — who could refuse a Queen of the land who can turn the world over with the back of her hand?
The air in the hall had nearly solidified.
Queen Marlena's wild eyes were locked, unblinking, on Sophia. Her bronzed arms pressed against the table, muscles rising faintly with the tension. Even under the crushing, mountain-toppling killing intent radiating from Mason's retainers, the Queen of the Ocean clenched her jaw and tried to hold onto that last sliver of illusion called 'equality.'
"Your Majesty Sophia — Avalon's dignity cannot simply be bought with a few sacks of flour..."
Marlena's words died on her lips.
The normally composed Sophia's right hand moved at a speed that was barely perceptible to the naked eye, sweeping out from beneath the Black Rose cape.
BANG—!
A deafening thunderclap — a sound that had never once been heard in these waters — tore the roar of the waves apart in an instant, shattering the stone fortress's air.
That short, jet-black object with its cold metallic gleam — the specially-made black musket — rested between Sophia's slender fingers, trailing a thin wisp of faintly sulfurous blue smoke.
Right before Marlena's eyes, the coconut that had been sitting there — hard-shelled, solid enough to deflect a stone — was sent flying into the air the instant the shot rang out.
And then, in midair, it ceased to exist.
Like a fragile soap bubble, it came apart with a dull, deep crack, shattering into a spray of flying debris. Snow-white coconut flesh burst outward like meteors. The clear coconut water exploded into a fine mist — and drenched Marlena's face, which had gone blank with shock.
The wet liquid slid along Marlena's long lashes, traced down her bronzed cheek, gathered at her jaw, and dripped steadily into the low-cut neckline of her fish-scale vest, tracing a glimmering, suggestive trail across her full chest.
Marlena froze where she stood. She forgot even to wipe her face.
She stared at Sophia's golden pupils — utterly still, ice-calm, without the faintest ripple of emotion — and her mind went completely blank.
Gods... Sea God above.
What was that?
That short black rod — it hid inside it the power to tear a hardened coconut shell to nothing in an instant?
If that shot had landed on my head instead of the coconut...
She moved so lightly. She didn't even blink. As though she had casually crushed a sand ant.
This power — able to command destruction, yet refined to the absolute extreme of elegance...
It's terrifying. And damnably captivating.
This suppression I've never felt before — a kind that transcends physical strength entirely... I thought I could stand as her equal. I even wanted to pluck this flower of the land for myself.
But now I see — she isn't a flower. She is the thunder that commands life and death.
I wanted to conquer her. And yet I understand now... faced with that single shot, I have no choice but to kneel.
With that gunshot still reverberating, the dozen or so shell-armored guards who had been watching with their hands on their weapons seemed to have their bones collectively pulled from their bodies.
With a rattling crash, they crumpled to the floor in perfect unison, their rusty spears clattering across the stone in every direction.
Delilah quietly released the sword hilt she had already drawn halfway free. Looking at Marlena's disheveled, dazed expression, a cold smile touched the corner of her mouth.
Irene, for her part, let out a triumphant whistle, shaking her pink twin-tails with an air that practically announced: This is the beauty of science.
Sophia calmly holstered the black musket and picked her bowl of clear wheat porridge back up, her tone actually milder than before.
"Queen Marlena — shall we talk now?"
Marlena stared at the place on the table where the coconut had been — and then looked at the faint residual warmth at Sophia's fingertips.
She let out a self-deprecating laugh. The pirate-blooded wildness in her was subsumed by something deeper: genuine awe.
Slowly, with great deliberateness, she raised both hands — roughened from a lifetime of hauling nets.
"I concede.
"Your Majesty Sophia... no. Sovereign."
Marlena exhaled a long breath from her chest, eyes fixed unwaveringly on Sophia. The wild urge to challenge that had lived in those eyes was gone — replaced entirely by a fervent, blazing reverence.
"Avalon's people have harder heads than coconuts — but not by much.
"Since you possess this divine fire... from this day forward, the sea of Avalon... belongs to Mason."
With that earth-shaking gunshot, the fate of the Kingdom of Avalon was sealed within the explosion of a single coconut.
The hall still held a faint trace of gunpowder smoke, mingling with the distinctive clean fragrance of coconut water — creating an atmosphere that was peculiar, and strangely charged.
Marlena was an extraordinarily shrewd woman. She understood: before absolute power — especially the kind of 'Divine Miracle' that could split a head open like a coconut in an instant — every bargaining chip in the world was a joke.
"Since this sea now answers to Mason."
Marlena finally lowered her hands. Her powerfully built body leaned slightly forward, and she flicked the tip of her tongue across the coconut water still lingering at the corner of her mouth, her gaze drawing a slow, direct line to Sophia, her voice dropping to a low, husky note.
"Then, Sovereign... how do you intend to handle me — the defeated Queen?"
Sophia set down her spoon without any urgency, her gaze sliding past that brazen, undisguised look without acknowledgment. Her tone was rational and cool.
"Since you are pragmatic, Avalon is no longer Mason's enemy country — it is territory.
"From this day forward, the Kingdom of Avalon is renamed Avalon City. You, Marlena, will remain as its inaugural City Lord and continue governing on my behalf.
"Taxation, military matters, and foreign affairs, however, will all be absorbed entirely into Mason's Ministry of Internal Affairs.
"Of course — if you prove unequal to the task, you'll find yourself retired rather quickly."
After the banquet, the transfer of power proceeded at a remarkable pace.
Marlena stood at the highest point of the whale-bone palace and announced the news of Avalon's submission to the entire city.
The subjects — who had been bracing themselves for a storm of blood and fire — were struck completely speechless the moment they heard the first decree.
Effective immediately, all commercial taxes in Avalon City and Cape Town are reduced to align with Mason's rates. Every tax and levy imposed during the Orr era is hereby abolished in full.
Mason will dispatch a fixed annual quota of wheat, fats, and vegetables to Avalon.
Sea products beyond the tax portion may be freely sold.
"Mason? What's that?" an old fisherman asked blankly, clutching a freshly mended net.
"No idea... but they're saying we don't have to pay so much tax anymore — and we'll get to eat white flour!" his companion called back, voice bright with excitement.
And so, on this untamed stretch of coast, a scene unfolded that left even Delilah genuinely surprised.
The people did not weep for their fallen nation. Instead they celebrated — spontaneously hauling in the plumpest red crabs and dried scallops they could find, streaming in groups to the Palace gates, all in hopes of catching a glimpse of the land Queen who was going to "give them a good life."
On the great whale-rib archway, the old flag of Avalon — bearing its faded sketch of a small boat — was slowly lowered.
In its place, unfurling in the sea wind with a sound like tearing silk, rose the Black Rose flag of Mason — dignified and elegant, and utterly absolute.
As a mixed patrol — half shell-armored guards, half black musket soldiers — began making their rounds through the streets, Delilah followed close behind Sophia.
Her high ponytail, impeccably kempt, cut a striking silhouette in the sea wind. But her gaze never once left the figure of City Lord Marlena, who kept drifting into Sophia's personal space.
Marlena had changed into a lighter, close-fitting dark leather skirt. Every step she took radiated an unrestrained, aggressive vitality.
She always seemed to find reasons to lean closer to Sophia — and when they reached a short flight of steps, she reached out as if to steady Sophia's waist.
"Your Majesty, mind your step," Marlena murmured close to Sophia's ear, her voice low and inviting.
"That won't be necessary, City Lord."
Delilah stepped smoothly, expressionlessly, between the two of them — her longsword's guard catching the moonlight with a cold gleam.
Those crimson eyes were written with a single message: Step away from Her Majesty.
This woman... not only barbaric, but extremely dangerous.
The way she looks at Her Majesty — that is not how one looks at a sovereign. That is how one looks at prey.
Her Majesty just told me last night, with her own lips, that I am family. I will not allow this woman who reeks of fish to entertain any improper notions about Her Majesty.
Even if she's now City Lord — if she dares to step out of line, my sword will teach her just how heavy a family member's protective instinct can be.
Hailey sat perched atop the carriage roof, watching the cheering fishermen and the Black Rose flag rising over the city, her pen tracing light, quick arcs across the paper.
Sophia stood at the edge of the sea cliff, watching Avalon's former forces withdraw in orderly fashion, and Irene busily setting up a simple signal lamp array. Her mind was already drafting the next phase of the plan.
Marlena had her personal ambitions — but her authority over Avalon was irreplaceable. Leaving her as City Lord for now was the most efficient choice available.
Withdrawing the majority of the armed forces served two purposes: to guard against any resurgence of the old faction, and to bring that wild, raw energy to Mason's mines for what could only be called civilizational reforging.
What came next was the age of technology's demonstration.
With this ocean's abundance feeding into the system, Mason's autumn harvest... would no longer be the baseline of survival. It would become the launchpad for expansion.
City Lord Marlena walked up beside Sophia and looked at the Black Rose flag. Then she laughed softly under her breath.
"Your Majesty — now that everything is settled, tonight... would you be willing to personally inspect the deepest 'treasure vault' of my Avalon City?"
The moment Marlena's suggestive tone hit the air, the others standing near Sophia instantly moved — converging like they'd received a signal, closing ranks and watching Marlena with wary eyes.
Marlena's gaze drifted over each of them in turn, and then she broke into a knowing smile.
"Ah — I see how it is. Your Majesty already has several extraordinary beauties at her side.
"But I'm quite different from all of them, you know."
Sophia looked at the woman before her, and for a moment, the image of someone else surfaced in her mind.
The last time I encountered someone this genuinely difficult to handle was... the last time.
"Speak plainly," Sophia said, her cool voice cutting through the air.
Marlena looked, if anything, more satisfied at that response. She laughed.
"I think you've all misunderstood. The treasure I mentioned is our actual treasure vault.
"Since Avalon has now submitted to Mason — rather than wait for you to discover it yourselves later, I'd rather simply present it to you now."
As the night deepened, the clamor of Cape Town gradually settled into stillness beneath the flickering shadows of the Black Rose banners.
Marlena led Sophia through the stone corridor at the rear of the palace — its surface worn rough and pitted by years of sea wind — heading inward.
Delilah followed close behind, the tip of her longsword's scabbard clicking against the stone tiles at intervals, sending out short, clean, cold notes.
Her gaze was locked like a hawk's onto Marlena's bare, powerfully built back.
"Avalon's ancestors, across every generation, preferred collecting the ocean's tears to claiming territory on land," Marlena said.
She stopped before a stone wall dense with dried sea-vine, found a raised blue-black sea stone, and pressed it with practiced ease.
With a deep, grinding rumble, a hidden door — concealed behind whale-bone decorations — slowly swung open.
There were no luminous corals, so the cave was somewhat dim. Willow stepped forward with her characteristic ease and lit the wind-resistant kerosene lamp specially made by Mason's laboratory.
As the warm lamplight spread through the cave, even Sophia — accustomed as she was to Mason's Royal House's deep cellars — found herself pausing for just a moment.
This was no ordinary storeroom smelling of coins and copper. It was a natural sea-carved cave.
On racks made from salvaged shipwreck timber sat the finest treasures Avalon's Royal House had accumulated over centuries — utterly without the contamination of magical impurities.
Moon-Soul Pearls — each one as large as an infant's fist, perfectly round and flawless. In the lamplight, they shifted and swirled with a cool, refined iridescence like moonlight on water. These were purely nature's masterwork; because the waters that produced them ran so deep and treacherous, their price on the mainland had long since been bid to stratospheric heights.
Deep-Sea Blue Gold — Avalon's unique deep-sea gold ore. Unlike the reddish yellow of land gold, these ingots held a soul-stirring dark blue luster. They possessed no magical properties, but their extraordinary malleability and unique color made them the finest possible material for crafting luxury goods and high artisanship — priceless and effectively unobtainable on the open market.
Amber Incense Bricks — top-grade ambergris, worn and tempered by a century of sea currents and weathering, stacked neatly in a corner. They radiated a deep, enduring fragrance thick enough to intoxicate the soul.
These things were extraordinarily precious. With current diving technology so limited, retrieving treasures from the seafloor was nearly impossible.
Sophia walked forward slowly, her fingertips trailing over the chests of pearls that glimmered like scattered stars.
The purity of this gold surpasses anything refined on land.
Given to Irene, she could probably produce precision timepieces and high-end tableware that would make the entire Northern Border gasp.
And these pearls and incense bricks — each chest of them could fetch several noble estates at the Imperial Capital's auction houses.
Marlena revealed all of this for one reason: to demonstrate wealth.
She's clever. She knows military force can't resist Mason, so she's offering this cave of pure treasure to secure my regard for Avalon City's future economic value.
Good. This woman has not only wildness — she has the sharp instincts of a merchant. She is a qualified City Lord.
"These things — valuable as they are — none of them compare in my eyes to the elegance of that shot you fired yesterday."
Marlena turned suddenly. In the damp, dim cave, her long bronzed legs stepped forward with an aggressive half-pace. The lamplight was concentrated on Sophia, which left Marlena half-swallowed by shadow, making her look wilder than ever.
She lifted a necklace from the central stone platform — nine enormous black pearls strung together, black as ink and yet flickering with an uncanny violet light.
She did not hand it to an attendant. She walked directly toward Sophia.
Shhhk.
Delilah's blade cleared its scabbard by one inch. Those crimson eyes ignited with cold fire in the darkness.
"Stop.
"Propriety — please maintain a distance of three steps."
Marlena stopped walking — but she paid no attention to Delilah's sword. Instead she turned a wild, enticing smile directly onto Sophia.
"My Queen — it is Avalon's tradition that the one who submits must personally place the Sea Soul upon their sovereign.
"The Sea Soul brings fortune, and makes wishes come true.
"Do you... dare let me approach?"
Sophia raised her hand and pressed it down over Delilah's tightly coiled fingers.
"Stand down, Delilah," she said, her voice carrying no particular weight — simply an even, unruffled statement of fact.
Delilah bit the inside of her lip and, with profound reluctance, withdrew her sword. The impeccably kept high ponytail trembled faintly under the tension.
Marlena let out a soft laugh and drew closer.
The faint scent of sea salt and body warmth that clung to her pressed immediately into Sophia's personal space.
She opened both arms and draped the cold strand of black pearls around Sophia's neck — slender as a swan's.
In the instant she fastened the clasp, Marlena's fingertips glided — deliberately or not — across the skin at the nape of Sophia's neck. That softness made the Queen of the Ocean's breathing shift, deepening by one unmistakable degree.
"Everything that is mine... including this sea, and this life of mine — it all belongs to you now."
Marlena leaned close to Sophia's ear, her voice low and husky, saturated with an adoration and possessive longing that was nearly overflowing.
"Whenever you need me — I am the sharpest blade at your shore, and the most yielding harbor."
Watching Marlena practically pressed against Her Majesty's side, Delilah's knuckles cracked.
This woman!
She dared to leave her scent on that neck — the very neck I should be the one guarding!
Last night, Her Majesty kissed me on the beach. She told me I was family — an existence she would never let go.
And now this savage who just surrendered today thinks she can buy Her Majesty's favor with a handful of glowing stones?
Even if Her Majesty is simply using her for the greater good — I cannot endure that aggressive gaze.
Her Majesty is the cold moon hanging high above the ice plain. And I... am the only blood-shadow that guards her through all eternity.
Marlena — if you dare take one step closer, I guarantee Avalon City's second City Lord will be taking office by tomorrow morning.
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