Page 49 of A Sea So Cruel
Fine, maybe Asta didn’t exactly needthatnews at the moment. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “Prove it,” Asta urged. It would be poor timing for Gyrial to play a joke on her but she held out hope that he was poking fun.
Gyrial brushed his braids back behind his ears—which he always kept hidden by his hair—to reveal the delicately pointed tips. Before Asta could react, he opened his mouth and a second set of canine teeth snapped down from his gums, the new ones much sharper and larger than the others.
As she gaped at him, Gyrial decided to finalize his proof by extending a hand toward a flower bud that sat in a vase on Asta’s coffee table. She watched with wide eyes as the flower bloomed to full maturity, the pink petals vibrant against the dimly lit room.
Asta should have had more of a reaction to Gyrial’s big reveal, but she was so tired.
Tired of the secrets. Tired of the lies. Tired of the curses and spells and creatures. The entire world as she knew it was an illusion.
She reasoned with herself. If she could handle the existence of sirens and finfolk, what was one more mythical creature added to the list?
Gyrial took Asta’s hand in his as he whispered, “I’m only going to ask one more time. Are you sure you want to be turned?”
Yes. No. Someone decide for me.
Asta remained silent while her best friend’s gentle touch still lingered, his thumb smoothing over the back of her hand. She had to want it. She had to make sure that her mind was made up when the siren venom entered her bloodstream or else, death. But of course she wanted it. She wanted to save Kaid. She wanted to avenge her father. She wanted to confront Maren. But did she want it for herself?
Maren. Her sister. The one she had grown beside all these years, laughed with, played with. Not only a sister, but a best friend in their younger years. Was that humanity still in there? Would Maren’s heart find weakness when it came to her own sister? No matter the answer, Asta needed to know. She needed to know if her sister was well and truly lost to her.
The blonde princess sharply nodded her head once. “I’m sure that I need to be turned in order to do what I need to do.”
Asta walked over to her desk and pulled out a rolled piece of paper, handing it to Gyrial.
He took the paper gingerly, his golden gaze never breaking eye contact with Asta’s. “What’s this?”
“For my father. I need him to read it, just in case…”
In case she doesn’t live through the turn. In case she does live, but death finds her another way once she begins searching for Kaid in the merciless Ventarin Sea.
Asta had written the letter to her father the night before, knowing she needed to get the words out before she left. She needed to tell him how sorry she was for arguing with him about sending out more rescue fleets. How sorry she was that she blamed him for her mother’s final grueling days. How sorry she was that she had never built the relationship they were meant to have, for not having more time.
“I’ll bring it to him.” Gyrial tucked the rolled paper into his pocket and Asta pulled him into a tight hug.
“Make sure Dyri is played with. And Thurs needs grooming. And Linnea… make sure she eats.” Asta listed her top priorities as if they weren’t emotional burdens.
Gyrial didn’t balk, only held Asta tighter to him. He kissed the top of her head. “Of course, Asta. Anything for you.”
Asta’s pack was heavier than expected for only containing a few articles of clothing and her mother’s family signet ring. She only brought the Blomvin ring to remind her of home, her mission, and—optimistically—her humanity in case of bloodlust frenzy.
She and Gyrial stalked toward the water’s edge hand-in-hand as rain beat down on them in heavy drops, instantly soaking through their clothes. The two massive water dragons emerged from the crashing waves and between them, a head of bright red hair bobbed in the water. Asta looked to Gyrial and kissed his cheek lightly, but his palms rested on her face as he placed his lips to hers.
For the first time, something fluttered in Asta’s chest at his touch. But was it drawn out by a hard goodbye, or did it mean more? She pulled away and stared into his golden eyes, only to find them welling with tears that disappeared into the rain.
With a nod, she turned and walked toward the sea. Queen Arielle swam closer, matching each step Asta took, until they were hardly ten feet from each other.
Asta had to be sure. She had to be at peace with leaving all this behind—possibly forever. Whether Gyrial had kissed her out of love, out of loss, out of a need to say goodbye, she didn’t have time to wonder. She needed to be willing to let it go no matter his reasoning.
Water lapped against the toe of Asta’s boot, the predictability of the waves being the only constant in her life right now. The ocean never stopped, never relented. It was always a force with no weakness. Cruel and beautiful.
“I’m ready,” Asta signed to the empress of the Northern Seas.
The corners of Queen Arielle’s lips tilted upward. “Then come forward, and we will begin.”
Without allowing herself a second thought, Asta stepped into the water and pushed through the waves until she was a few feet from the empress. She turned and granted herself one last look back.
Through the sheets of rain, she could see Gyrial standing on the beach, one hand on his sword hilt and the other pressed against his chest—a gesture of his promise to protect what she left behind. Her cousin, her beloved animals, her father, him. Her kingdom.
The castle behind her best friend was shining through the constant thunderstorms that had been cursing their land since before Kaid’s capture. The stones were illuminated with hope, the siren statues grinning wider than ever before.
