Page 4 of The Forgotten Queen
She swallowed, pointing behind her. “The fish.”
He nodded, glancing quickly out to the water. “Yeah.”
“They’re trapped.”
He nodded again. This time more dramatically. “Yeah, so?”
Sydria puffed out a breath. “It’s cruel.”
“How is it cruel? They’re still in the water.” He looked over the shore. “And they have a huge bay to swim around in.”
“That’s not a huge place for some of those creatures. They can swim the length of the area in a few seconds.”
The next wave pushed her forward, knocking her into his chest…again.His hands went to her waist, holding her up. Sydria didn’t like having a stranger’s hands on her hips. It felt too intimate—so did all the ways she’d experienced his upper body.
She took a step back, repositioning her feet so that she could stand without assistance. “Do you know why the animals are being held captive?”
He shrugged. “They’re going to put them in the castle aquarium for display.”
Her eyebrows bent. “An aquarium? Like a glass box?”
“Yeah.”
She tried to shake off her annoyance at his indifference and focus back on the animals. “Trapping them in an aquarium is horrific.”
He kicked his head back. “I don’t know if it’shorrific.”
“It is horrific!” she stammered. “Why would they do that? Why would anybody purposefully box up an animal?”
“I don’t know. That’s just what they do.” He shrugged again.
His casual shrugs seemed insensitive, but she remained calm. “Who isthey?”
“Cristole Castle. The royal family.”
“Well, it isn’t right.” Her skin felt flushed despite the cold water dripping down the side of her face.
The man lowered his chin, giving her a pointed stare. “Do you have a thing for sea life?”
“It’s not about sea life. It’s about the fact that they have no choice in their life. Who does King Marx think he is?” Sydria asked, hoping she’d gotten the king’s name correct. She’d only heard her aunt and uncle talk about him and the McKane family a few times.
“I think he thinks he’s the king of Cristole,” the man responded slowly, watching her.
She shook his answer away. “Just because he’s the king doesn’t mean he can take something that isn’t his and force it to leave its home, bring it to the castle, lock it up, and hold it hostage like he owns it.” Her voice began to rise. “Maybe these animals don’t belong here. Maybe they want to swim back to where they came from. Maybe the fish don’t even know where they came from because King Marx swooped in and never gave them the chance to find their home, their family, or their people. And now—”
The man reached out and pulled her close as another wave hit them, stopping her mid-sentence. His arms wrapped around her back, and Sydria closed her eyes, relishing his closeness. It was nice to be protected, to behugged.
Her eyes popped open.
What was wrong with her? This man was astranger.He could be a murderer, for all she knew—slicing people open with his chiseled chest. She needed to stay focused on marine life. She pushed away from him and continued her speech. “And now,” she said as if she’d never stopped, “these animals have to stay here in Cristole. Maybe they don’t belong here. Maybe they belong in Northland.”
“Are we still talking about the fish?” he asked. His expression seemed puzzled.
She raised her chin, fighting off the embarrassment growing in her chest. “What else would we be talking about?”
“I’m not really sure.”
“Sea life,” she confirmed as if it were obvious. Sydria turned her head, glancing quickly over the net before she met his gaze again. “Someone should tell the king that these animals need to be freed.”
