Of Poseidon 02: Of Triton

“I’m not hungry.”
    “Highness,” he says sternly. “Sulking will not help anything. Eat. This. Fish. It will give you strength. It’s a gift from Grom. He says these are your favorite.”
    She whirls on him. “Cod? He knows I hate … Oh.” She eyes the fish more closely, notices the point protruding from the last cod’s tail. “Oh. Yes, I do enjoy cod.” Nalia relieves Galen of the gift. He hopes she understands that she’s only to use it if things go badly with the tribunal. A last-resort kind of thing, in case Jagen’s influence is more than Grom anticipated, and as much as Galen dreads it is.
    The lionfish spike is imbedded into the last cod. Galen wonders that she feels comfortable carrying it at all—lionfish venom is deadly—but Grom insists she’ll know how to handle the thing. Grom is not who Galen thought he was all this time. And neither is Nalia.
    “He asks that you only eat them if you have to, Majesty.” Which sounds so ridiculous that Galen shrugs at Nalia when she rolls her eyes. The guards don’t seem to notice the lack of sense in the conversation. But it does appear Nalia understands his meaning.
    The tribunal starts tomorrow. The decision would normally be left up to a group of Commons who volunteer for the duty, but since the matter involves Royals, the jury will be made up of a mixture of Archives from both houses. Galen can’t recall ever hearing of such a thing, a tribunal being held for a Royal. But since Nalia’s identity is apparently still in question, and she attacked the current Triton queen in front of so many witnesses, the tribunal will also function as a trial. If Jagen is as smart as Galen is starting to think he is, he already has the verdict tucked neatly into his capable hands.
    Her identity will not be confirmed. And she’ll be found guilty of treason.
    If that happens, she’ll be imprisoned in the Ice Caverns until she takes her last breath. And Emma will never speak to him again. He might as well accompany Nalia to the Ice Caverns. The Ice Caverns are more vast than any human prison, and considerably less populated—the Archives estimate that only forty or so Syrena have ever done something grave enough to be sentenced there. It would be a boring, lonely life—and death.
    Of course, Galen is hoping that Grom and Antonis will not allow that kind of outcome. He’s not sure what kind of alternate plan the two kings have conjured up, if anything at all, but surely for all the desperation he sees in their eyes, they’re hiding something more useful than despair behind their anxious expressions. Doing this all the right way is one thing. But there might not be a right way, with Jagen’s influence marring the judgment of the Syrena.
    Surely, if the right way fails, the two kings will not watch Nalia be imprisoned.
    Grom would not suffer all those years only to lose her to the Ice Caverns. But going against the decision of the tribunal would be … Galen doesn’t want to think of the consequences of that right now. Too much is at stake, not only for Grom and Nalia, but for Galen and Emma as well. If the Archives won’t allow Grom and Nalia to unite, the possibility of Galen and Emma ever mating under Syrena tradition is all but obliterated.
    The tribunal has to return a positive solution. It just has to.
    And if it doesn’t? Galen can’t fathom what Jagen could possibly hope to gain if the Royals were displaced. The kingdoms? Hardly. The Syrena version of a kingdom differs greatly from the human version. When humans say the word “kingdom,” they mean palaces, mansions, wealth, people. When Syrena say the word “kingdom,” they mean endless strips of ocean. Fish. Reefs. Caverns. The Syrena do not need gold or jewels or paper money for their wealth. The only wealth the Syrena boast of are one another. They trade services sometimes, but mostly they help one another in times of need. They take care of their elderly and young ones.
    So then, the only benefit of controlling the kingdoms is to change their way of life. But what would he possibly change?
    Galen nods at Nalia, who has apparently been watching him think things through. He wonders what she saw in his expression. “I’ve got to get back now,” he says. She shrugs.
    Get back to what? he thinks to himself as he leaves her chamber. He’s already roamed through the tunnels of the Cave of Memories twice, and each time he’s found himself back at the ruins of Tartessos, at the wall where he