Page 39 of Rise of the Siren Queen
Nerina’s expression remained calm, yet her eyes narrowed slightly, a havoc brewing beneath her composed exterior.
“Your defiance could cost us dearly, Ithra. The council’s integrity is at stake.” Her voice dropped to a low, steely tone, resonating through the link like the rumble of distant thunder. “Let’s hear the testimonies. Lady Sienna, could you recount the events?”
Ithra’s expression shifted, a flicker of unease crossing her features as all eyes turned to Sienna, who stood poised to share her account.
“Of course, my queen. The princess, Lady Elora, and I were on our way to carry out your orders when we arrived at the labyrinth entrance and found it unguarded,” Sienna began, her voice calm and measured. “Lady Elora immediately left to find Captain Ronan at the princess’s command. We continued swimming through the mazeuntil we reached the Moon Pond, where we witnessed Lady Ithra drowning the prisoner.”
She paused, glancing at me briefly before continuing. “He was thrashing, struggling for air, while Lady Ithra had trapped his legs with her tail, dragging him deeper into the water. It was clear she was trying to murder him.”
I felt my pulse quickening as Sienna spoke, the memory of that moment replaying vividly in my mind.
“Princess Iryen ordered her to release him, but she refused,” Sienna continued, her voice growing quieter. “Your Highness had to use her psychic abilities to make Lady Ithra release him.”
The tension in the room rose as the words settled into silence. My grandmother’s piercing gaze remained fixed on me, her expression a mask, yet I knew she understood the significance of what had happened. Using my psychic ability wasn’t something I did lightly.
“My queen, I ask for her actions to be punished according to the law.” My voice was quiet, but laced with a vicious edge. I couldn’t suppress the cold satisfaction that crept into my tone, knowing what Ithra deserved for what she’d done. “I suggest marking her as Crimson Tide for twenty years and strip her of all council duties.”
Queen Nerina’s eyes darkened, her expression incomprehensible as she weighed my words. For a moment, she didn’t speak. Her gaze locked on mine and every ounce inside me was screaming for vengeance.
“Ithra’s actions are treacherous,” she finally answered, her voice cold and measured. “But this is no simple punishment you’re suggesting. Marking her with Crimson Tide will not only exile her, but brand her as a traitor for life.”
“She deserves nothing less,” I added, feeling the cold of justice freezing all the emotions within me. Forgiveness was a luxury I had no interest in providing. Mercy, an indulgence I couldn’t afford.
Lesser punishment? The very thought was laughable. What lesson did leniency teach if treason went unpunished? If empty repentance could wash away betrayal? No, that’s not how one maintained power.
I would make an example of her.
Not just for justice, but for order. For control. For the reminder that I was not my mother, not my father, I was something far less forgiving.
“If I may, My Queen,” Thalor began, his voice slick with calculated restraint, and immediately, unease twisted in my gut.
I had known he would speak. He always did, never missing an opportunity to weave his manipulations, but hearing him now, the way his words dripped with false reason, sent a chilling ripple through me.
“Lady Ithra was defending our territory,” he continued smoothly, “she did it for the kingdom, as her duty.”
My heart pounded harder in my chest, my pulse quickening as I clenched my fists at my sides. I fought to keep my face impassive, but every word out of his mouth fanned the flames of anger and revulsion that burned inside me.
His tone, it was so cold, so devoid of remorse, twisting the truth with that insidious charm of his. He was trying to turn the situation, to make Ithra’s treachery seem like a noble act. It wasn’t just an attempt to justify her actions. It was an attempt to protect himself, just as he did four years ago.
Every word, every inflection designed to manipulate the room, to shift the blame, to cast doubt on what had happened at the Moon Pond. And worse, he was addressing the Queen, with that same nauseating calm as if he believed he could persuade her.
I wanted to scream, to tear through his thin veil of deception. Ithra had nearly killed Adrian. She had disobeyed direct orders, violated sacred laws, and endangered everything we were trying to protect.Yet Thalor was standing here, twisting her brutality into an act of patriotism.
My jaw tightened, the tension coiling through me like a serpent ready to strike. I forced myself into something steady, something controlled, but the rage churned beneath the surface, violent and insistent. It gnawed at the edges of my restraint, daring me to let go.
Above, lightning split the airspace with a deafening crack, the once-clear blue sky now twisted into a storm-wracked abyss. Dark clouds unfurled like a shroud, smothering the sunlight, casting shifting shadows across the ocean’s surface. Below, the currents writhed in response, restless and unpredictable, mirroring the chaos inside me.
My divine blood surged, answering my fury, and for a fleeting moment, I wanted to let it. To stop holding back. To unleash the power that pulsed in my veins and watch the world tremble for it.
But not here. Not now.
I swallowed the storm whole, forcing my power back into submission. I couldn’t lose control, not in front of them. Not when they were already looking for cracks in my armor.
My grandmother’s gaze met mine, steady and neutral, but it didn’t fool me. Beneath that carefully composed mask, I sensed her scrutiny, the unspoken warning in the slight narrowing of her eyes. She felt it too, the shift in the room, the undercurrent of unease threading through the council like a spreading sickness.
Thalor’s words had done their work. Doubt had slithered into their minds, subtle but insidious, and I could not allow it to take root.
I straightened, letting the full force of my presence settle over them like a tightening noose. If they hesitated now, if they dared question my authority, I would not offer reassurance. I would remind them exactly who I was.
