Page 15 of Coral Prince Conundrum
Father sighed. “The court has been undergoing a lot of legislative changes. They want the vote of an acting prince anda king. I don’t want to rush you out of your childhood, but the sooner you gain power, the better the world will be.”
He bent down and picked up a thin, plastic object that resembled six combined rings. “Once you turn twenty-five and complete your great global survey, you’ll be recognized as the acting Coral Prince. Until then, we will hone your skills and have you research using the internet that the surface world is so fond of.”
I solemnly nodded and followed Father down the beach. His words sank into my very soul. I was to turn twenty-five in a few short years. The last part of my memory is seeing multiple metal cans strewn across the beach. Each one read the same words: “Tishman’s Fishery.” I abhorred violence, but I knew in that moment that surface-dwellers were truly a bane on our precious oceans.
I wake from the dream in a coughing fit. The water around me is only neck high. I feel fabric clinging to my chest, but I never wear a shirt when I sleep underwater. Then I recall that I don’t have the luxury of sleeping in the submerged castle, because I live in the Renversé Hotel.
But I’m not in the hotel bed. My muscles are aching, and I stretch out in a large tub. Where am I?
“Oh good, you’re awake.”
I look up to see Layla Fisher walking through the door. She places a metal chair next to me, and I cough and gaze at the room. After wiping my eyes, it does appear that I am in one of the hotel bathrooms.
“You gave us quite the scare.”
My throat feels incredibly dry. “What happened?” I croak.
“You were covered in brake fluid. It burned your skin and messed with your Corali anatomy,” she says in a matter-of-facttone. “A salt water bath is the closest thing to the ocean we had to expedite the Corali healing process.”
“Brake fluid?” I look at my hands and notice remnants of a dark, sticky substance washing off.
“Fortunately, Daryl found you and brought you here to safety. He nursed you back to health. Spent his whole evening here.”
Blurry memories of Daryl holding me surface in my mind, but I still can’t quite see it all. “Daryl…saved me?”
“He sure did. For the past five hours, he’s stayed here, adding more salt and generally watching to make sure you weren’t getting worse. I just now sent him to get something to eat. You kind of owe him your life,” Layla replies. She leans forward and gently touches the top of my head. “We were so scared that we were going to lose you.”
I lean into the touch. Her kind words mean so much to me.
Then I feel her slap the back of my head. “Ow!”
“That was for acting like a tool,” she reprimands. “How could you do that to Daryl’s car?”
I rub my head and frown. Now I remember—for two days I’d been looking up how to dismantle a food truck, and today I executed my plan. Everything went fine until the oily fluid sprayed me.
My whole body feels sore, and I have very little memory of ending up here in this tub. With the way Layla is glowering at me, I can tell she knows I messed up.
I wince. “I am sorry.”
“Hey, don’t apologize to me. You didn’t touch my car.” She stands up and opens the door. “I’m giving you five minutes, then I’m driving you boys out to the beach.”
My heart lifts with hope—a dip in the ocean sounds glorious right now, and Layla driving me the one mile would be most helpful.
Before I can thank her, she disappears, and in her place is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Daryl stands before me in a blue button-down shirt. He’s holding food in plastic containers, and his face reads of satisfactory relief.
“Oh, thank all the gods, Seero, you’re alive.”
I smile. His concern for me brings joy to my soul, especially considering how awful I was to him when last we spoke. “Yes, I am. And I hear it’s thanks to you.”
He kneels by the tub, inches away from my body. If only I had him in a bath in a much sexier manner, but this is no time to think of my libido. “I got you food and drinking water.”
He hands me the bottle, and I drink as much as I can in one gulp. All of this oil has rendered me dehydrated. “I was so worried about you,” he says in a low tone.
“Well, you saved me. So, thank you.” I sheepishly look down at the tub. “Did you…um, are you able to drive?”
He snickers and hands me the plastic triangle containing food. “I called a tow truck. My dad paid for it. If it’s not worth the repairs to the undercarriage, he’ll probably have the old thing converted into scrap. The insurance should believe that some unknown troublemaker messed with my ride.”
As I bite into the sandwich, I freeze in fear. Daryl smiles and says, “Don’t worry, no one knows of your part in it other than Layla.”
