Page 12 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

“Ygritte.” She winced.

My face mirrored hers. “If she didn’t see us, maybe we could hide under the buffet table.”

Moira shook her head. “I can’t be so close to so much food. I’m starving.”

“Just as well; she’s coming over here.”

Moira slapped my arm.

“Do you maltreat your lovers this way?” I asked with a coy smile.

“I have as many lovers as you do,” Moira hissed.

“Perhaps tomorrow night, that will change.” I winked.

“I only want one lover.” My redheaded friend rolled her eyes.

My teeth clicked as I bit back a response. Atlana Moonreef approached us both, her brows arched high.

“Am I interrupting?” she drawled, flicking her

Shark-belly grey hair over her shoulder. Atlana stood six feet from us, unable to get any closer because of the sheer size of her dress. The material shimmered with a strange texture that I had never seen before. It appeared dry, even though we were in the water. Sensing my attention, Atlana draped her hands over the bodice of her dress. “Do you like it? It’s lace. My father paid one of the weavers in the city to enchant it. The water repels the thread, and the enchantment is woven into every strand.”

“What a waste of coin,” I said before my mind could catch up to my lips.

Atlana bared her teeth. “Maeve Cruinn. I forgot that you existed for a moment.”

“I’m sure you did,” I simpered. “Especially because I share the same name as the city where you live.”

Atlana’s grey eyes narrowed. “The threat would have barbs if you were in line for the throne. As it stands, I have more chance of sitting on the throne than you do.”

“If you wish to be consumed by madness, by all means, go ahead.” I swept my hand out and gestured towards the platform.

Atlana glanced at the throne before turning back to me. Her lips pinched. “How does it feel to know that the only legacy your mother left from her time on the throne was the title ‘the mad queen.’ No one even remembers her name anymore.”

“Better than having a father like yours,” I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest.

“At least I have a father.” Atlana jutted her chin. “He paid for my dress with the coins you think he wasted.”

Moira stepped forward, blocking Atlana from my sight. “Atlana, did you need something?”

“I simply came to see if the court gossip was true.” She sniffed, and her gills ruffled in time with the movement.

“Gossip?” Moira asked, nudging me with her elbow. Violent wretch.

Atlana’s coral lips curled into a broad smile, making my stomach sink. “Apparently, if Maeve doesn’t find her shíorghrá on the beach, the king will find her a husband.”

“Not everyone finds their shíorghrá. Some people don’t have them,” Moira replied slowly as if the thought was just dawning on her. “That can’t be right. He wouldn’t make her leave the castle.”

Atlana craned her neck around Moira’s head. “Well?” She smirked. “It seems you won’t be at the castle much longer.”

I schooled my expression so that my inner turmoil didn’t show. “I don’t understand why you’re excited. If I leave the castle, it’s not as if you will take my place.”

Atlana threw her head back and let out a bark of a laugh. “As if I want to be in your place. Everyone knows that you bed your uncle. Everyone knows about your private lessons in the tower.”

My stomach flipped, and anger flushed through me. My teeth creaked as my jaw rocked.

Atlana continued as if she enjoyed my rage. “I believe the ’king’s consort has been trying to convince him to be rid of you for years. It seems that she has finally managed in her task.”

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