“You look lovely, Your Grace.” Jewel’s tone was light, teasing as she finished stringing my curls through glowing pearl beads. 

“Only because you did such a good job.” Much like Lena, Jewel was a master of beauty, of style. She had that same innate affinity for pairing clothes to jewelry, hairstyles, and makeup. I couldn’t help but marvel at myself in the tall mirror with the bronze oval frame with pearls inlaid.

My dress was off-the-shoulder, made of shimmery pale blue material that faded and melded into deep azure and cobalt around where the layers of the skirt gave way to streamers, all floating and framing my tail. There were pearls tinged pink to tie in my tail-colors everywhere—in my hair, over my shoulders and collarbone like straps, around my wrists and the tip of my tail, in the layers of the skirt and the details of the bodice. 

They even dripped off of the delicate branching silver tiara with the pale blue fans like fins perched on the sides of my head, complimenting the large orange stone in the center and the tiny cobalt gems. 

Somehow, she’d made all of the colors work, leaving me to look absolutely ethereal—perfect for my first mermaid symphony. 

“I fixed that mirror, you know.” Jewel’s voice was both dreamy and matter-of-fact as she peered at my reflection, hands clasped over my exposed shoulders.

“Really?” 

Jewel smiled. “I’ve been refurbishing human treasures from the wreckages my mother claims since I was a little girl. My older brothers and sisters didn’t care much for the work of the place—but I had an eye for what could be salvaged, projects that others wrote off. This mirror was just one of them.”

I wondered if she thought of me as similar—another human “project” to beautify.

“It’s too bad I never see Talu at these things,” Jewel continued as she adjusted her earrings—she was wearing a striking combination of jade and black that complimented her dark hair and russet skin. “He’d lose his mind looking at you!”

“He really doesn’t like me, not like that.” I thought back to a week prior.

In the time that passed between, I hadn’t seen Talu again, and he made no summons for me as Prince Tiberius. In fact, I started to wonder if he and the Undersea Queen and the whole mermaid world had maybe gotten bored of me. I saw Lumi, Kei, and Jewel from time to time. But Dominique was busy with Madame Noemi, Venus with the upcoming symphony, and Talu was just always mysteriously busy. 

According to the envelope now sitting on Jewel’s dresser top, I was supposed to be Prince Tiberius’s personal guest to the symphony. I was to use my pearl to arrive at the palace and make my grand entrance alongside him. The idea now churned my stomach—it was so embarrassing to have to be with your crush when your crush definitely hated the idea of the two of you being together. 

But I also wouldn’t let the awkwardness be an excuse to skip out. I’d gotten a taste of mermaid music magic when Venus had practiced in front of Jewel and me. Now I had to see the real thing, the Full Moon Royal Symphony. 

“Are you ready?” Jewel asked as she looked me over one last time.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Good answer.” Jewel patted my upper arm. “And who knows—not many of us have seen our mysterious prince. Maybe Talu will be jealous.”

“Maybe,” I said, straining to keep my face straight. 

“He will once he sees you.” Jewel pointed to my pearl. “Just touch it with the intention, and you’ll end up where you’re supposed to be.”

I nodded. Part of me wanted to stay here, in Jewel’s fabulous bedroom. Draped in seafoam green gauze curtains and filled with various knick-knacks similar to the mirror, it was a glimmering place, a place of mystery. Her home was no different, being a sunken galleon converted into her family’s underwater mansion. Easily a place I could explore forever, if she let me—and if there weren’t people waiting to meet me.

I sighed and my hand hovered over the pearl. “See you in a little while.”

Jewel winked. “Enjoy it!”

My hand touched the pearl as I imagined the palace. I blinked—Jewel’s room was gone, and I was in Talu’s little sitting room area of his chambers again. Painless and less disorienting than I’d expected.

“Mika?” The second syllable of my name went up in a little strangled squeak. I turned to see Talu—only to find myself taken aback.

He was done up in the princely look again, with a long black tunic with teal and white trims, flowing white sleeves, an elegant horned headdress of gold with a thin white veil framing his face. His impossibly blue eyes were wide, and there might have even been a little pink beyond the glowing turquoise blue markings on his cheeks. 

“You look nice,” I said evenly.

This was the wrong move—the pink turned red and he averted his eyes. 

“You too,” he mumbled.

I pressed my lips together. I was already making a mess of all of this. I wasn’t going to say anything—so I might as well address it. “Jewel was just joking earlier, when she made that comment about you asking me to the symphony. She just thought it would be funny, she didn’t mean anything by it.”

“What?” His eyes flicked back to me.

I thought I was going to die of embarrassment right there. “She knows that you wouldn’t want to go anywhere with me. Just a funny joke—to suggest that the human and a mermaid—merboy—would go to the symphony together.”

He frowned and I could feel myself digging deeper. “Don’t worry, it happens to me all the time—“

“What are you talking about?” He interrupted, folding his arms over his chest. 

I froze like a deer in headlights. "You just seemed like you didn’t want to talk to me after Jewel made that joke about you taking me to the symphony as Talu.”

“Because you almost blew my cover.”

“What?” I tilted my head—it was my turn to be confused. “Why would I do that?”

He blinked. “You mean she doesn’t know?”

“What, that you’re the prince?” I was starting to revisit my hypothesis that I was stupid again. “Of course not, you wanted me to keep it a secret.”

That’s when it hit me. “Wait—if that’s what you thought that was about, then—“

“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head, sending his veil this way and that. He offered his arm to me. His eyes gleamed like they did the night of the bonfire. “Let’s start over then.”
“I’m Mika.” I slid my arm into his. 

“Princess Mika,” he corrected. “You have a title now.”

“Oh, right.” I paused. “You aren’t going to reintroduce yourself too? It’ll make me feel stupid if it’s just me.”
“Talu,” he said, looking me directly in the eye. “Just Talu.”

There was a significance to it—I just knew it. “Hey, Talu.”

I thought he smiled, if just for a moment. “Let’s go to the symphony.”

The Royal Symphony took place in a large theater built into the side of the Undersea Queen’s grand palace. With its large arching roof, I was reminded of the underside of a sea-shell, especially with the ridges formed by the rows of golden benches lined with jade-green silken cushions. Lanterns with glowing pearls at their core lined the rows and the ceiling, flooding the place with light. 

What was most impressive was the orchestra stage. Mermaids flitted this way and that as they tuned their instruments and flipped through their books, the last minute preparations before the symphony officially began. Over them loomed a stained class window with many circles in the design, calling to mind astrological charts from medieval books. It glowed a pale blue with the moonlight that had managed to transcend thousands of leagues of water. 

I wasn’t sitting with the majority on the ground, however. I was in one of the boxes around the top, with the Grecian white pillars and more veils to conceal us somewhat from the eyes of the crowd. The front was seafoam green with the ivory design of seahorses in the crest, with an open viewing. Talu and I sat in front of the railing, almost completely alone except for two guards posted at the back exit. 

“Where’s your mother?” I asked, glancing around.

“She’s in a different box, as is my grandmother, the Queen Dowager.” Talu held his head high as he stared ahead. “It minimizes security risks.”

I bit my lip. “Are there often security risks?” 

“No.” He sounded uncertain, however. “But with the rise in Fathoms and some of the. . . rumors, it’s best that we stay prepared.”

Before I could ask about what rumors, he took my hand into his. 

“But don’t worry, that’s why we’re together.” He smiled again. “We’ll ensure that you’re protected, as the Princess of the Twilight Tides.”

I managed to smile back, in spite of the thousands of fireworks launching in my brain. A boy was holding my hand! Not any boy but a prince! And he was smiling and I was wrong about him and—

My thoughts were cut off by the theater lights going down, and the orchestra and choir sounding their starting note. 

A spotlight appeared around a figure at the center-front of the stage. He carried a golden baton and wore a violet shimmering tunic with his voluminous sleeves contained by golden bands around his wrist. He wore a slim tiara around his brow and over dark hair that reminded me of Talu, and his features were similar to those of the Undersea Queen—regal, cold, and ethereal. 

“My uncle, Lord Kuhlebron,” Talu whispered into my ear. “The Royal Conductor—one of the highest honors in the Undersea.”

Lord Kuhlebron smiled up at the crowd as all went quiet. “I, the Royal Conductor of the Undersea Symphony, welcome all of you to celebrate the Full Moon as our ancestors, the sea-dragons, once did. 

He paused for emphasis. “Tonight is not just any full moon, however.”

Talu gently urged me to move, and we rose just in time for our box to light up. 

“As the guest of our Crown Prince Tiberius is the mythic Princess of the Twilight Tides, returned to us in our time of need!”
Gasps rippled through the crowd as all faces turned skyward, just to catch a glimpse of me. Among them I couldn’t see Kei or Lumi or Jewel or even Dominique—just the eyes of thousands of strangers.

That’s when it hit me, what my title meant, the strange powers I apparently now possessed. 

It meant something to these people, the legend. I was some kind of hope, a savior for a world I didn’t even know.

Talu started to wave at them, so I waved too—not nearly as elegantly. But based on the cheering I think they liked it.

The box dimmed when Lord Kuhlebron decided that had gone on long enough, and as the crowd died down he spoke again.

“We hope she will enjoy our presentation tonight, as will all of you.” He surveyed the crowd again, and for a second, his smile went cold. “Now, without further ado, let us celebrate the moon!”
All the lights went out entirely, except for small dim lanterns on the stage and the blue light of the moon coming in through the stained glass. The effect was radiant, dazzling. I gasped.

“It hasn’t even started yet,” Talu whispered, with the amusement of knowing what was to come.

It started quiet, with light and airy notes. The threads of iridescence began to appear in the air, as the singers joined in, just as what had happened with Venus. As their voices grew in number, vivid phantoms leapt from the glowing sound-waves.

And what happened then was the most beautiful thing I’d ever experienced. 

Light and music alike danced in the darkness, as a saga unfolded. Not one I entirely understood, but moved me to tears all the same. It was masterful, from what I could tell as someone who had only ever played the recorder in elementary school. I’d never thought myself the orchestra and choir type, but that was changing before my very eyes.

These performers were pouring out their soul, their story, their people and their nation’s story. And it was at least partially in my honor!

The music dipped and varied in its nuances, changing and flowing together as smooth as the water’s flow, as the light changed from shape to shape to match the story that they were telling, the story of the symphony. As they did, the color of the stained glass behind them changed, red with the more angry parts, a deep cerulean with sorrow, a light green in joy and pink in the ethereal-sounding.

It was all building, a finale beginning as we sat there, tensing for that grandeur. 

And then as the music reached its crescendo—

The stained glass window turned a sickly green and shattered, sending ripples of green into the magic as the song turned to screams. Through the window emerged a monster with tentacles and rotting limbs, the darkness and the rot of the deep incarnate—a Fathom. 

I’d never seen one under light, with too many glowing green eyes and tentacled limbs covered in barnacles. They were more horrifying than I’d ever imagined. Parts of it I couldn’t fully picture—it was as if my mind was shielding me from the full terrifying picture. 

But I was the Princess of the Twilight Tides—I needed to fight it.

I didn’t want to. I felt as if my soul had ejected from my body, every movement far away. But I pushed off of my chair all the same, numb as I swam forward.

“Mika!”

Talu’s shout was a thousand miles away.

As a flood of mermaids swam for the exits, they parted for me as I swam toward the monster. I tried to get close—but one of the tentacles of the monster grabbed me and slammed me against the floor, against one of the hastily-abandoned instruments. My head pounded and my vision went dark.

Get up—get up—

I propped myself up just as I saw the tentacle coming for me again.

What do I do what do I do—

I thrust my hand out, and the primeval choir within my heart answered with a hurried note and a flash of pink. 

It withdrew and let out a roar of pain. 

I tried to summon it again—but it didn’t work. I had no idea how any of this worked, beyond a song in my heart and the feeling of desperation. Which gave me no idea how any of this was supposed to work.

I was supposed to be able to vanquish them, to save the Undersea!

Instead of dissolving or flinching back, a tentacle returned, wrapping around my waist, chest, and throat. It lifted me higher into the water, and then began to squeeze.

Spots danced over my vision as my throat burned, as something new burned within and then—

A flash of pink light overtook all else.

I crashed into broken instruments and book-holders. I collapsed onto the stage, as more spots danced over my vision. I could feel something warm around my hair, my throat and chest still burned. I didn’t want to look, to see if it was still there.

This is it.

I felt a hand on my arm.

“Talu?” I was wondering if maybe I hit my head harder than I thought. He had to get out of here, he needed to leave. He was the heir, after all, and if anything happened to him—

“It’s alright now, the room’s clear.” He pulled at my arm. “We need to get you out of here—“

“You shouldn’t be here.” I frowned. “It’s going to kill you—“

He shook his head. “You got it. But you’re hurt—“

“I’m fine.” I tried to pull myself free, only to find everything going hazy. Before I could protest and lie further, he’d swept me up off of my feet—or I guess, tail.

“Your Grace, we need to go—“

“I’ve got her don’t worry—“

“Where’s the Undersea Queen—“

All the panicked voices faded to darkness and the unnerving quiet.