Page 93 of The Princesses of Ruin
“An honor to receive the princess. You may address me as Vek’ihr.” He speaks the word with a deep click between the syllables I know I’ll never be able to replicate with my throat. “Last hatched of the royal clutch, and the Subordinate Son.”
I look at Jasper for help, but he shakes his head subtly.
“What does that title mean?” I ask.
“Please, swim with us and I will answer. We have prepared a meal,” Vek’ihr says.
Ican see a fiery retort on Jasper’s tongue and so I silence it with a quick, “Thank you. We would be delighted.”
Vek’ihr doesn’t turn away, keeping his eyes and man-like body pointed toward us as he swims ahead on many thin limbs.
“Last hatched is a literal meaning. I emerged last from my egg. Subordinate Son—I was the last male hatched. I am a servant to the throne, as is my lineage, forever.”
I’m doing my best to capture the political structure here, but another burning question pops out first. “How do you speak Fynish?”
“I absorb information quickly,” he says with an air of finality that raises the hair on my arms.
“Is it my understanding then, Vek’ihr, that you will help us through this meeting with your king?”
“Yes, that is my purpose,” he says.
We drift past the first buildings. They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The rooms and doorways are constructed in ways that allow the natural current to flow through, or to halt. Some spaces are tunnels to move between, while others are blocked off and I’m unable to see inside.
I want to ask more questions about their culture, but I know I need to prepare for the coming meeting.
“What must we know about decorum for dinner? What is the seating arrangement? Am I allowed to speak out of turn, or should I wait for the king to address me?”
“Many questions,” Vek’ihr says, then makes a noise that might be a laugh. “You will be free to speak. There is no king. We do notsitwhen eating. There is no decorum. Meals are not regarded the same here. We do not do what you do.”
“No king? Who will weaddress?”
“We do not follow the same rigid structure as your people. Our history, our very nature, is counter to this kind of leadership. You will address the Conclave of Currents, our fluid leadership. The strongest, firstborn of clutches, and those with the most knowledge lead.”
“Why the meal?” I ask.
He makes three sharp clicking noises and his body comes alight with color. He points his limbs in several different directions at once and our escort breaks off.
“It was my recommendation. Meals are bonding experiences for selkies, and as I understand from my limited knowledge, Ki’ah Ohn as well.”
I want to tell him it was unnecessary, that we’re in a hurry, but that is impatience rearing. I am a princess. This is an interspecies negotiation for the survival of our kind.
“I appreciate the effort,” I say.
He makes another laughing sound. “But you find it without use?”
“I hope not,” I say. “I wish to make a good, lasting impression. I hope our request will be heard, and entertained.”
Vek’ihr shimmies in an interesting way that pushes the water away from us. “I hope so as well.”
With the important question about how I should behave out of the way, I go on to ask my culture questions while we swim.
“What are all the buildings for?”
“The survival of the people.”
“How?”
“You will see.”
