Page 35 of Coral Prince Conundrum
My heart aches so much as I watch him walk to the door. Before I realize it, I stand up and say, “Kaluluwa.”
Seero freezes, then turns around. “What?”
“That word. It, um, keeps coming up. It seems to make your parents extra happy. I haven’t had a chance to look it up, though I doubt the internet has a translation app for Corali.”
An adorable grin breaks out on his face. “You heard that?”
I nod. “Yeah. People keep sayingkaluluwa. What does it mean?”
He smiles. “I believe it is Filipino in origin. But in my country it means…” He gains a wistful expression as he gazes at a far wall. It’s so quiet here, late at night, just the two of us in the most private home on the surface of this island nation. “The closest it translates to is…soul.”
He looks at me, dark eyes reaching into my heart. “Finding yourkaluluwais like finding your betrothed. The one you are meant to build a future with. It is the most revered honor in all of the Coral Kingdom. To find your soul is…the highest privilege.” His smile fades, and he nods, then turns around for the door. He softly says, “And it is what I have been searching for my whole life. Goodnight, Daryl Tishman.”
When the door closes, I stand there, frozen. Seero lied when he said I was his soulmate, a bluff to keep me from harm. Still, this Coral Prince has always yearned for that perfect life partner for him. But why does a part of me want to claim Seero as mine?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Seero
I sit patiently at the large wooden table on the first floor of the house. It’s not the largest dining room in the kingdom?that honor naturally goes to the hall at the underwater palace?but I like it. It’s spacious, with large windows looking out to the shore. The rising sun glowing on our faces is one of the only advantages of spending time here in our surface house.
Of course, no one shines as much as the man seated next to me. Daryl stares out at the waves while the servants bring our breakfast dishes. His face bathed in sunlight is impeccable, a mixture of gold, yellow, and brown. Donning the traditional Corali green tunic and waistcloth, he’s even more attractive than he was mere days ago. As I gaze at him dressed in my people’s clothes, I cannot help but think that he belongs here.
I also want to rip them off altogether. It was so,sotempting to stay in bed with him last night. But that would not be courteous, because he is only here as a favor to me. I want him, but I do not own his heart.
“Can we come in?” I turn to Oroy’s voice and see my brother’s and sister’s heads poking out of the doorway.
I snicker and raise my hand. “Of course. This is your kitchen too.”
“We weren’t sure if you needed your privacy,” Oroy says. I can understand their reluctance, since until this past year or more, we only socialized on occasion as siblings. But now, with my duties increasing, their presence is needed for royal matters. And that includes being with me on the surface.
The pair strides forward, and Priya takes a seat next to me. Oroy, meanwhile, sits next to Daryl.
“Good morning,” Daryl says. He uncomfortably glances at my brother, then looks away. Glasses clink as the servants place dishes of hot oatmeal and smoked fish in front of my siblings.
“I can’t believe you found your soulmate,” Oroy murmurs in Corali.
Priya giggles as the servants place goblets of water in front of them. I frown, and my cheeks burn. While I want to spend more time with my siblings, I do not wish to be embarrassed.
Daryl looks around in confusion. I glare at Oroy. “I told you to speak English while my husband-to-be is present,” I declare.
He raises his hands in an innocent gesture as a bowl is placed before him. “Very well.” He looks Daryl up and down, then smirks. “How did you sleep, future brother-in-law? Was the sleep totally rad?”
“I slept well, thanks,” he replies with a perplexed grin. I still do not think my brother is using slang correctly. “And it’s Daryl.”
“Mhm.” Oroy grins and plays with his spoon. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my brother is attracted to my fake fiancé. The sheer thought of that has me gripping my napkin with unnecessary strength.
Daryl clears his throat and says, “Um, this food is great. Oatmeal, seaweed, and um…smoked mackerel?”
“Does that please you? Would you like me to fetch for eggs?” I ask.
“You have eggs?” He smiles. “Like chicken eggs?”
Oroy snickers. “Do you not have chicken eggs in America?”
“We do.” Daryl stirs his oatmeal. “I just didn’t know what you had available here.”
“Wow,” Priya comments. She studies Daryl, like he’s a puzzle she needs to figure out. “You truly are an American. A surface-dweller. In our house, learning all sorts of things…”
