Page 70 of Female Fantasy
“Yes,” I say quietly, not wanting to make a scene in front of my Salty Girls. “But that was before.”
“Before what?”
“Come on, Nico. Let’s not do this now.”
But Nico pushes. “No, Joonie. I think now’s the perfect time to get into this.”
“Please…”
“Before what?”
“Before you stood me up and humiliated me in front of the entire school!” I snap. “Before you broke your promise. Before you shoved the one person you knew would hurt me in my face.”
“Wait,” he says, his eyes growing wide. “What? This iswhat you’ve been upset about all these years? That night at the dance? But—”
“But I’m delusional. I live in a fantasy and can’t handle the real world, right? I am way too naïve for believing that someone like you could ever care about someone like me, is that it? Well, fuck that. You knew I had a crush on you. And I never forgot what you said. I vowed to spend every day trying to prove you wrong. And though you nearly succeeded, I will never let you kill my belief in love, no matter how hard you try.”
The room falls silent. I hear my friends taking shallow breaths, afraid to make a single sound. Nico holds my gaze, his blue eyes like living flames, only brighter.
“Joonie,” he says quietly. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Really?” I challenge. “Then why did you do it?”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying to protect you.”
I clutch the golden spear with both hands, as if it alone holds the answer to Ryke’s question. Underneath me, the muscles of his arms spasm, and he struggles to stay upright.
He is weak, I realize.
Weak—a word I have never once associated with the mer prince.
I did not see the battle play out, only heard the cries from the other side of the door, felt the energy in the palace drain as the ballroom emptied. Is Ryke injured? I scan his body for broken bones, but all I can find are those gashes. Deep enough to bleed, but not to do serious damage.
He places me gently on the ground, in an empty space amidst the dead and dying, with reverence.
“Where is everyone?” I croak.
Ryke does not respond. Instead, his eyes drift to the ancient artifact in my hand.
“Minnow,” he breathes. “Do you know what you wield?”
The spear hums against my palm, thrumming with power.
“A weapon,” I say. “From the treasure trove. It…called to me. From the moment I entered these hallowed halls. Dylan locked me away with the chest for my own protection, and I somehow…unlocked it. I have no idea how. It is almost as if I forced the trove to obey me. To bend to my will.”
Ryke lets out a primal sound from the very back of his throat. I stir in his arms, startled. The stench of spilled guts reaches my nostrils. I fight the urge to heave.
“Dylan would not let me fight,” I continue. “I tried to stay. I wanted to defend the kingdom. But he thought it was too much of a risk. I loathed feeling so useless.”
Ryke’s eyes flash as they meet mine. “You are anything but.”
He closes his eyes for a second as he raises two fingers to his forehead in concentration. He looks as if his temples are throbbing, the room spinning.
“Merriah, you are holding the Trident of the Gods, Hippios’s immortal weapon. Laced with ether, forged by the Furnace, and blessed by the spirit of the tides.”
I look down at the weapon in my hands and frown. “It is quite filmy for such a powerful object.”
Ryke throws his head back and laughs. “Only you could make light of a situation like this and still manage to bring a smile to my face.” His gaze meets mine once more, and warmth starts to spread across my cheeks despite the tragic scene unfolding all around us.
