Emma gives him a look that clearly says “We’re so not done with this conversation.” Then she turns and walks away. Galen takes a second to regain a little bit of composure—which kissing Emma tends to steal from him. Then there’s the mortification of being interrupted by— Get it together, idiot.

Galen uses the walk to the dining room to settle his nerves and stifle the anger building up inside him. The truth is, he doesn’t have much to say to the Archives. Not after what they allowed to take place in the Arena. Triton’s trident, they put the Royals on trial!

But as much as Galen would love to throw that in their faces, he won’t. This is his one chance, however small it is, to turn things around for him and Emma. And he’s not about to toss that chance to sea with both hands.

Rachel has pulled more chairs out to accommodate the gathering. The table they circle is shinier than Emma’s lip gloss. Unlike the human meetings Galen has attended with Rachel to sell his underwater finds, there is no paperwork on the table, no cups of coffee, no cell phones. Also unlike human meetings, most participants are either dressed in bathing suits or bathrobes. Leave it to Rachel’s creative hospitality. It is a sight Galen will never forget, seeing the elderly council of Archives sit uncomfortably in human chairs. If the situation weren’t so dire, he’d have to laugh. Especially since Tandel’s bathrobe has the human symbol of peace all over it in fluorescent colors.

“Thank you for coming,” Galen says. He takes his place next to Grom, who sits at the head of the table. Appropriately, Antonis sits at the head of the other end, accompanied by Rayna and Toraf. Emma is at Galen’s left side. He doesn’t need to look at her to know she’s scowling at him.

Grom begins. “King Antonis has been so kind as to give us your message and deliver ours. Many thanks to you, Highness.”

Antonis nods, bored.

“We would very much like to hear what you have to say to us,” Grom continues. “Have you elected someone to speak on behalf of the council?”

Tandel raises his hand. Galen is not surprised. “I have been elected, Majesty.”

Grom nods at him, and Tandel’s face changes from nervous to apologetic. “First, I would like to express on behalf of all of us here—and many who are not—that we are terribly sorry for the way the tribunal was handled.” When none of the Royals accept nor reject his offering of remorse, Tandel continues, less confident. “In fact, we regret that there was a tribunal at all. We had no right to question the actions of the Royals. It was shameful that we allowed Jagen to tickle our ears with such nonsense.”

“Nonsense?” Galen interrupts. He would like Tandel to be much more specific. After all, the more guilt that can be piled on the Archives’ heads, the better chance Galen has of getting what he wants.

Tandel nods. “The nonsense that a Common could have the Gift of Poseidon.” Galen does not miss his quick glance at Emma. “Paca has come forward and admitted her guilt in this conspiracy. It was just as you said, King Grom. She learned the hand signals from the humans while she was on land.”

“And what of Nalia?” Grom says, motioning to her on his other side. “What conclusion has the council reached regarding her?”

“There are still those who claim that they do not recognize her pulse, Highness. However,” Tandel adds quickly at Grom’s immediate scowl, “we must assume that since Jagen and Paca lied about so much, that some of their Loyals did as well, and continue to do so. It has come to the attention of the council that Jagen offered many positions of prominence in his new ‘kingdom’ arrangement. It is our belief that he intended to change our entire way of life.”

Grom folds his hands on the table. “And?”

“We are prepared to accept the blue-eyed Syrena as Nalia, the Poseidon heir. After all, we do have testimony from well-respected Trackers and Archives who insist she is who she says.”

“You well know that I only mated with Paca because I thought she had the Gift of Poseidon. What of that?”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking, Highness.”

“I’m quite certain that you are quite certain of what I’m asking. You know I was promised to Nalia before the mine explosion. You know I mated with Paca under false pretenses. And you know that we have not consummated the bond.”

Tandel sighs. “Your mating with Paca is legal, Highness. We have no grounds for dissolving the union. The only grounds for dissolution is adultery.”

“Then why did you come here?” Rayna says. “You knew what we were going to ask of you. Why else would we care if Nalia was the Poseidon heir or not? So she could float around all useless? She’s supposed to be with my brother. You have a lot of nerve—”

“That’s enough, Rayna,” Grom says. Before her feelings have time to get hurt, he adds, “Thank you for making those excellent points.” Galen has noticed that since Nalia is back, Grom has been more patient with Rayna. It occurs to Galen that maybe Rayna reminded his brother of Nalia so much that he kept her at a distance all this time. After all, they share much the same spirit of rebellion and adventure. The revelation makes Galen smile.

Grom turns his attention to Tandel expectantly.

“Is this what you ask in exchange for your help?” Tandel asks.

Grom is about to confirm that it is, but Galen stops him. “No,” he says forcefully. “That is only one of the things we’re asking.”