Many think they know the story of the Princess of Aethiopia. They think that they understand what happened that day. A beautiful queen foolishly claiming to be more beautiful than any other mortal or god; a horrible monster destroying a kingdom; a tragic sacrifice demanded; a prince swooping in and saving the day. Happily ever after.
But that’s not the truth. Few know the true story of Princess Andromeda, Crown Princess of Aethiopia.
I happen to be one of those few.
Andromeda’s story – my story – has remained silent and hidden for too long. It’s time for the truth to be known. It’s time to set the records straight.
It all began on a bright afternoon many centuries ago in the salty waters of the Oceani Aethiopici, known today as the Atlantic Ocean. The kingdom of Aethiopia had been resting in a time of peace, but war was on the horizon, threatening the Aethiopian kingdom’s way of life. King Cepheus knew the only way to guarantee his kingdom’s safety was to create an alliance with one of the strongest kingdoms on the country of what is now known as Africa, using his only daughter Andromeda. However, all of that changed one fateful day.
Several Centuries Ago
The water enveloped me, wrapping my entire body like a mother’s welcoming hug. I pushed my arms out to the side, diving deeper into my sanctuary. The pressure built in my head but I ignored it, instead reaching for the sandy bottom of the ocean. My fingers skimmed the floor in search of oysters. Ah! My fingers closed around the rough ridges of the burrowing creature triumphantly. I pushed off the sandy floor, suddenly desperate for breath. Air entered my lungs greedily as I broke the near glass-like quality of the sea. I allowed the currents to bob me around, tugging on my light summer chiton.
It is days like these that made me wish for an eternal life so that I might be able to spend my days luxuriating in the sun, without a care in the world. I could dance with the dolphins and swim with the Nereids like a true sea nymph. No more rules. No more nagging mothers who claim to wish the best for me when what they really mean is that they wish I was just better than who I am.
A sudden wave from behind me startled me from my darkening thoughts. Paliria laughed as she swam in circles around me. Like all Nereids, Paliria is a shining star among the coal of humanity. Her delicate scales cover every inch of her body but are so light you almost couldn’t see them. Dark green hair swirls around as if it is its own entity with a mind and will of its own. My own honey blonde, snarled curls refuse to do anything other than clump up into impossible knots that will take hours to untangle.
“I’ve been waiting for all of eternity for you,” Paliria said in a melodic voice that reminded me of a waterfall. “Your mother appears to talk too much for her own good. What did she want that couldn’t wait until our swim?”
Just thinking about the conversation that my mother and I had endured that morning brought back all the stress I had been hoping to forget about.
“I am to marry Phineus within the year,” I mumbled glumly, tossing the rocky oyster shell between my hands. “Mother has explained to me that we need this match between Aethiopia and Cabrera. The northern kingdoms have been struggling to keep riots from overwhelming the countries without success and Father worries that these radicals will target us next. Cabrera is the second largest country in all of the world! It’s doubtful that anyone would dare target us with such a strong ally.”
“But isn’t he several harvests older than you?” Paliria asked, still confused as she tried to puzzle out the odd actions of humans. Even after years of friendship with me, she couldn’t understand many common human practices, including arranged marriages.
“Father wants to make the alliance…more secure, permanent,” I explained. “With me as Phineus’ bride, our kingdoms will have exchanged a blood bond. There is no breaking such a strong bond.”
Paliria pulled herself up onto the rock outcrop we had been floating toward. It was our Thinking Rock. The first time I had met Paliria had been on this rock.
I must have only been near about ten harvests old and was relishing the experience of being freed from my nursemaid. Only big girls didn’t need a nursemaid. My old nursemaid had been an overweight, grey-haired grouch with no sense of humor or fashion. I had never been allowed to travel anywhere without Nurse following close behind me. Never before had the outdoors smelled so sweet.
The salt from the nearby ocean mingled with the exotic flowers my mother had had imported for my birthday. Tiger lilies and white roses and flowers with names I didn’t know. Brilliant blues, tangy oranges, and sultry reds beaconed from every corner of the garden. That garden had been the last present I ever received from my mother. I don’t remember how, but somehow I had managed to climb on top of the garden wall that ended at the cliff. The soldiers standing guard at the front gate of the garden noticed my precarious position too late, shouting for help as I plummeted over the edge. My scream had caught in my throat as I fell the dozen feet to the water’s surface, my only thought being that I never heard my mother say, “I love you.”
As the water closed over my head, I sucked in water by the mouthful, not understanding what was happening to me. Suddenly arms had scooped me up and carried me gently to the surface. I remember feeling the rough surface of rock under me as air rushed over me. Hands pumped my chest hard and more water poured out of my lungs than the fountain at Mount Olympus, leaving me exhausted and trembling, as if Pan had hopped out of the tress and began playing his enchanted flute.
A dark shadow had washed over me, covering the sun. My eyes had snapped open to see a pair of beautiful, swirling eyes watching me carefully. As I sat up slowly, I realized my rescuer was covered in light pink scales and wore only a small wrap of shimmery material around her body similar to a stola – a dress that was pulled in at the waist and shoulders – but much shorter. Her dark green hair flowed down to her knees in thick waves, tugged to and fro by the current. Those illuminous, intelligent eyes were so ancient, even though her physical body couldn’t have been older than eighteen or so.
“Are you ok, human?” the unearthly creature had asked. I was so enchanted by its voice that I couldn’t speak. Or mayhap that was merely because of my recent dive into the not so friendly ocean. Instead I managed a shy nod, not letting my eyes off of the beautiful creature. Almost by its own violation, my hand stretched out and touched a strand of kelp hair. The creature had then laughed.
“Have you never seen a Nereid, human?”
I had shaken my head in awe. So this was one of the mystical sea spirits that dwell deep within the ocean to serve Poseidon – god of the seas. She was even more beautiful than what the legends boasted of that Nurse had told me each night.
“My name is Paliria,” she had continued, speaking as if to a wild stag about to take off into the wild, never to be seen again. “What of yours, young one?”
And so our infamous friendship had begun. Soon after rescuing me, my father had praised Poseidon, claiming me to be one of his chosen mortals to have been able to survive such a fatal drop into the water. Mother had been less thrilled with the theatrics and celebrations but remained silent, for once. I began sneaking out of the palace nearly every day to swim with Paliria. At first, my antics were viewed amusing, if not exactly orthodox.
But as I grew older, Mother grew less than pleased with the amount of time I had been spending with my unconventional friend. She claimed it was nearly sacrilegious to mingle so commonly with gods and goddesses, but I knew the real reason she was so against my friendship with Paliria. She was jealous of the beautiful Nereid. I ignored her counsel, trusting my own intuition over the green, steaming monster of jealous that burned in my mother.
Years later, Paliria and I still snuck away for little swims, just like the one today.
“That’s not very fair for you,” she argued, hands on her shapely hips in indignation over my recent engagement. “You deserve much better than what that shaggy haired, frumpy old man can offer you. You are strong, kind, a leader among others, and beautiful where it counts.”
I smiled as my friend continued to argue for my sake, as if my mother would ever listen to anything Paliria said. No one told the queen what to do, not even my father. Finally, the Nereid wound down her impromptu speech with a sympathetic hug as we continued prying oyster shells apart to eat the delicious goodness hidden within. As I carved into the thick shell of my oyster, Paliria squealed with delight.
“Look, Andromeda!” she exclaimed excitedly, her amethyst eyes glowing eerily as she thrust her oyster toward me. “Mine had a pearl inside it!”
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, turning and shifting the shell here and there to watch the sky reflect on the smooth, rounded surface of the delicate little pearl.
“Let’s check yours!” She was already reaching for mine before I could stop her. “Oh, sweet salty ocean, look at your oyster.” She handed me back my oyster almost reverently. I peered inside, not sure what I expected to find. My jaw dropped in astonishment.
Inside the rough, ragged, battle-scarred shell rested the most perfect pearl I had ever seen. Its rounded surface gleamed with a natural polished quality most jewelers couldn’t create. Colors of all kind seemed to bleed together until it was a fragile but beautiful watercolor of purples, blues, greens, and pinks. It was about the size of my pinkie fingernail, with absolutely no fault to be found by the naked eye.
“Oh, Paliria,” I said reverently. “I cannot take this from Poseidon’s realm. It’s too perfect to be exposed to my world.”
“Nonsense,” she said lightly, picking up both of our pearls in a delicate grasp. “We shall create necklaces from these so as to always remember each other. Is that not what humans do, collect physical objects to remember times of the past? Please give me a few strands of your hair, Andromeda. And stop gawking. It’s considered rude, even in Poseidon’s realm.”
I could only nod dumbly as she deftly wove pieces of our hair together into two separate strings. The pearls were nestled snuggly around the strings before Paliria finally tied with last knot and handed me the larger of the two pearls. When I tried to hand back the pearl, she held up a hand.
“It is a present from me to you,” she said sternly. “If you do not accept this gift then I shall be insulted and never return to this petty piece of land you humans claim.”
I was unsuccessful in keeping the grin off of my face.
“Very well, O kind and beautiful Sea Goddess of this realm,” I answered lightly, turning around so that Paliria could tie the knot around my neck.
I promised to myself to never take it off. Maybe it would help me through my interactions with my mother, remind me that at least one person in the world loved me. I motioned for Paliria to turn around as well and tied her own necklace. We both were grinning like court jesters who had consumed too much red wine when a guard came walking across the beach, the ocean air billowing his chlamys around in directions that should have remained undiscovered and the sand sucking up his leather sandals eagerly. Paliria giggled at the ridiculous sight of a man trained for deadly combat fighting the wind god, Aeolus, for the control of his chlamys. When he spotted the two females resting on the rock several dozen feet away from the shore, his cheeks reddened with embarrassment as he straightened his shoulders abruptly and attempted to fix the situation and regain his pride.
“Her Highness, Queen Cassiopeia has requested the presence of the Crown Princess, Princess Andromeda immediately,” the poor soldier shouted across the ocean, his voice cracking on the last word.
I sighed with regret and looked down at my soaked chiton and ragged hair. Mother wasn’t going to be pleased, not that she ever seemed to be these days. Paliria patted my shoulder once, lightly tugging on my new necklace with a secretive smile before diving off the edge of the rock with a natural grace I never had any hope of imitating. Taking a deep breath, I followed, heading toward the shore where the soldier remained to escort me. He watched with wide, astonished eyes as I cut through the water. Paliria’s swimming lessons were bearing fruit, as it should after years of practice.
The guard followed me back to the palace at a respectful distance, with me wrapped up in a cloak I always took with me. Servants looked the other way when I entered through the servants’ entrance with a guard in tow. Most days, I stopped by and spoke to many of the servants, having become friends after years of sneaking out to meet with Paliria. The guard took the lead after I walked out of the airy but noisy kitchen, careful to not spill much water on the floor. Cook hated having any kind of mess in her kitchen.
“This way, Princess,” the guard said authoritatively, guiding me down the many stone walled passages, as if I didn’t know where I was going.
We stopped right outside of the Queen’s Room, a set of chambers set aside for the queen’s uses. I tried making useless, last minute adjustments to my soaked chiton. The guard knocked on the thick, wooden doors. We could hear the sound echo in the chambers beyond the door.
“Come in,” Queen Cassiopeia commanded, somehow turning the inelegant form of yelling into an art.
My hands shook involuntary as the guard quickly opened the hand-carved door. Ever since my first womanly bleed, Mother has been trying to transform me into a beauty, failing each time. Now she spends her time either picking me apart until I’m smaller than an oyster or ignoring me as if I were wearing Hades’ invisible sandals, her eyes shooting me with accusations, as if it were my fault to be born without any of her natural beauty. That’s not to say that I am not pretty. I’m just not up to the standard Queen Cassiopeia holds everyone at, including herself.
As the door opened wider, I was given a view of the deep blue and purple silk banners that were strung across the walls. Cassiopeia was draped on an elegant little couch covered in goose down, silk pillows that complimented the blue and purple theme of the room. Her waist length dark hair was pinned up today, with long, lazy curls dancing across her delicate face. Her brilliant blue eyes – the only characteristic I shared with my mother – flashed as I entered, assessing me and finding me wanting in a matter of seconds. Never good enough.
“Mother,” I spoke demurely as I managed to contort my body into a loose curtsy, my scraggily, fair hair falling into my face.
“Your curtsy is sloppy,” the queen chided. “And is that kelp on your neck?”
“No, Mother,” I said as patiently as I could make my voice, holding Paliria’s necklace close to me as if the queen planned on launching herself across the room for it. “It’s a necklace given to me by a friend.”
“Oh that little fish girl? Well, get rid of it. I never want that in my sight again.” The queen stood with an elegance that reminded me of the tiger that a circus had brought through many years ago. Her embroidered peplos followed ever censual curve and dip of her body in an almost scandalous fashion, her hand resting almost instinctively around her belly in a curious manner. My poor guard looked trapped as he openly gapped at the renowned beauty in action. He must be new. No one else would dare stare for so long (though many managed just fine through the corner of their eyes). “We have much work that needs to be done if you are to be prepared for King Phineus’ arrival in two weeks’ time for the engagement ceremony.”
Queen Cassiopeia waved a regal hand lazily to dismiss the poor guard. Her words stung but weren’t necessarily a surprise anymore. The queen wasn’t known for her compassionate nature or gentle words.
“We must measure you for a new himation. It won’t do to have the Princess of Aethiopia engaged in rags,” my mother announced briskly, eyeing my current attire in disgust and distain. I bit back a groan at the mere thought of hours of pricking needles and probing fingers as the seamstress tried to please the queen.
“Yes, Mother,” I answered instead, obediently, bowing to hid the resentment I’m sure that flashed across my face. No matter how hard I tried or how much I managed to change myself, it was never enough. I couldn’t seem to satisfy the queen.
At the clap of her hand, twenty maids scurried into the room, tiny mice trying to please the sleek tiger in the room. Swathes of cloth were placed before the queen for her stamp of approval to of which was to be used for my engagement himation. This was going to be a long engagement celebration.
Two Weeks Later
The musicians were strumming in the alcove that had been created for such a purpose as guests mulled around, gossiping with neighbors and sipping goblets of some of our best wine. Pretty birds wrapped in silk and jewels. I tried to adjust the drooping fabric that was falling down my shoulder at an alarming rate but Mother slapped my hand away.
“Stop fidgeting,” she hissed as we patrolled the throng of nobility serenely, rubbing her belly absentmindedly. “Do you wish for King Phineus to reject you based on your manners? A man wants a wife who won’t embarrass him.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes or pull a face as the queen turned back around, her face one of nausea as a servant passed by with several plates of fish and bread dishes. Instead I schooled my expressions into a blank, polite mask as my betrothed approached us. His head was covered in salt and pepper hair, with a golden, jewel encrusted crown resting on the thinning hair. Laugh lines fanned out from his fading blue eyes, crinkling as he looked me up and down. Just that simple look made me feel filthy. I wished I could go down to the ocean to swim.
“Queen Cassiopeia,” King Phineus said with a shallow bow, which my mother reciprocated. The queen smiled in a sly, calculating manner as my betrothed led me to the dance floor, where several couples were preparing for a dance. The dance was mayhap on of the most uncomfortable experiences I ever went through. The entire time, the king’s attention remained somewhere between my chest and my neck, not even trying to pretend to pay attention to any conversation I attempted to start up. By the time the song ended, I wished to find the nearest wall to smash my head into it. As I searched for my mother in the crowd that had grown since the beginning of the dance, my mind wandered to my imminent future with this stranger. Each night I would fall asleep to that face and each night I would wake up to it. Suddenly I heard a familiar voice calling my name, though nearly sloppy and slurred. No, Mother would never dare sound like that in public, I thought to myself helplessly. But sure enough, the queen stood in a circle of women, clutching a small bottle of wine.
“Ahh, my prodigal daughter has returned to me at last,” she said with a tottering grin as she passed off the drink to another woman. “But why should she? She has that beautiful Nereid as a friend. Well, I’m more beautiful than any sea spirit Poseidon created!”
A clap of thunder silenced the celebration as everyone looked at the queen in horror. My mother seemed to realize at the same time that she had misspoken. Instantly a roar could be heard, not far off from the shore. In morbid curiosity, everyone rushed to the many windows that faced the ocean. What had been a calming surface this morning, was now a churning storm of anger and power. Many – including me – stood in shock as several sleek humps protruded from the ocean.
The scales of the beast were nearly pitch black and covered in a slimy substance that spoke of years in the deep secret parts of the ocean. A woman screamed from somewhere in the crowd, breaking the spell that had seemed to come over the guests. People fled toward the doors, trying to escape the monster that was waiting outside. The beast reared its ugly head back as it let loose an ear-shattering roar that made the very earth tremble. It struck the buildings that clung precariously to the paths that wound from the cliff to the ocean, taking out chunks of clay and earth. I could hear the screams of the people who were inside those buildings as they were tossed out to the sea.
“NO!” I cried out, running to the beach. My himation flowed in the sharp wind, tugging me back to the destruction being sent down on us because of one woman’s foolish words. Frustration pooled in my stomach as I was slowed down by the heavier material. I finally yanked it over my head, leaving me in only a thin, white undergarment and the pearl necklace from Paliria. My legs, strong from years of swimming – carried me forward with the swiftness of Artemis toward my destination.
“Paliria!” I cried out as I neared our beach. A familiar, green haired head appeared in the angry, choppy waves. “Please make this madness stop.”
“That is not in my power,” Paliria said with a tragic headshake. “Only Poseidon has complete power over the ocean and all that reside in it – including Cetus, the beast currently demolishing your city. Only Poseidon has the power to do as you ask. And why should he? They deserve to pay for what they said. No mortal can claim to be better than the Nereids of Poseidon and expect to escape unscathed. Poseidon will only be satisfied with her death. It will be the proper punishment for such a grievous sin.”
“But it won’t be just my mother who will be punished,” I cried out, weeks of morning sicknesses and recent naps suddenly making sense. “She’s pregnant!”
Paliria’s eyes widened with astonishment and understanding as she realized that an innocent baby was about to be destroyed for the sake of a god’s pride.
“Please, Poseidon, god of sea and earthquakes and horses,” I prayed, falling to my knees on the rocky beach. “I apologize for the condemning words of my mother, the Queen Cassiopeia. But I beg of you, please don’t destroy her. There is life growing inside of her that deserves a chance to discover life. If you destroy the guilty party, you destroy an innocent one, as well.”
A rush of wind surrounded me, tossing my hair up in a wild tangle. The waves died down as a shadow loomed over my prostrate figure. A shell – probably an oyster’s – dug into my knee but terror kept me rooted in my position. A god was in front of me. A god had heard my prayer and answered in person. A god.
“Arise, daughter of mine,” a deep voice of rough earth and stormy seas spoke. A hand appeared before my face, offering me assistance off the ground. Gaping like a fish, I took the hand. It was tanned as if it had spent many years outdoors in the strong sunlight rough, covered in many calluses that spoke of hard work. An almost human hand, if not for the patches of green scales that traveled up his arm. My eyes followed those patches up his arm until I reached his eyes. They were crinkled into a softened look, not exactly a smile but he wasn’t frowning at me at least. They were ancient eyes, even more so than Paliria’s. They were eyes that had seen centuries of human mistakes, eyes that had seen wonders and miracles. I could’ve stared into his eyes for all of eternity. The center, near the pupil was an ocean deep green that seemed to shift in color, fading out to a nearly white as it reached the edges of the iris, like the white caps of waves.
“Young one, you have much courage,” Poseidon’s deep rumbly voice vibrated inside my head. “Tell me why you wish for me to call off Cetus?”
At the sound of its name, the beast – which had been resting behind the sea god – slowly rose to its full height. The serpent’s sharp teeth glinting in the brilliant sunlight, bits of housing and reddish stains – I refused to think what those meant, a menacing reminder of the destruction the beast could cause.
“Please, Poseidon,” I begged, tears fighting for the freedom of running down my dust covered cheeks. I refused to give in. “My mother is a foolish mortal woman who was not truly aware of her actions as they were occurring. She had partaken in some wine and it affected her more…unusually because of her condition.”
“And what condition is this, mortal girl?” he asked, crossing his arms. His face remained impassive as he looked down on me from his intimidating height.
“She is pregnant with my little sister,” I explained. “She doesn’t know it yet. I only just figured it out myself a few minutes ago. But please, master, don’t destroy my innocent little sister for the sake of your pride.”
I sucked in my breath sharply after my little speech, certain I am to be struck down for talking to a god in such a manner. Instead, a deep rumbly laugh poured from the sea god, surprising me.
“I see why you spend so much time with this mortal, Paliria,” Poseidon chuckled. “I wish I could do as you asked. However, Cetus requires a sacrifice of the most beautiful mortal if he is to return peacefully back to his resting place. What do you suggest, Princess Andromeda?”
My legs trembled when he spoke my name. He knew who I was. He knew my name. What else did he know about me? I shoved these thoughts aside. How to get around Cetus’s sacrifice? An idea popped up in my mind but I almost immediately dismissed it.
“What is it?” Poseidon questioned.
“H-how did you know I was t-thinking something?” I stammered out.
“Part of being a god,” Poseidon answered mysteriously. “Now what was this idea of yours that you dismissed so easily?”
“What if…” my voice trailed off but regained its strength when I saw Paliria nod encouragement from behind the god. I had forgotten that she was still here. “What if I offered myself up as a sacrifice instead?”
“Hmm,” was all he said as he stroked his tangled beard. He then turned back toward the sea serpent, shaking and nodding his head, almost as if he were having a conversation with it. Finally he whirled back around to me. “Are you truly willing to make the sacrifice of a life for a life? Yours for that of your mother’s? There will be no going back.”
My heart in my throat, I nodded confirmation.
“I will,” I said, my voice only shaking a little bit. “For my baby brother or sister.”
Poseidon nodded his approval.
“Then Cetus accepts your sacrifice, Princess Andromeda of Aethiopia,” Poseidon intoned.
“What must I do to prepare?” I asked, swallowing my fear as I followed Poseidon to the edge of the ocean, the surf running over my bare feet, announcing each cut on my foot like a sword wound.
“You must go to that rock.” Poseidon pointed to the Thinking Rock with a gnarled finger. “And remain there until Cetus comes for you. Do you understand mortal?” I nodded solemnly, eyes to the ground as the enormity of my decision hit me. Poseidon knelt on the ground, putting his strong hands around my shoulders. I startled but he held on. “You have made a decision not even most gods would’ve made, let alone humans. You are stronger than you believe. Stronger than any mortal I have seen in the history of the world. Without mortals like you, this world would’ve become a giant cesspool of human filth and deceit.”
Tears pooled in my eyes as Poseidon spoke. I quickly wiped the tears away with an edge of my now dirtied and torn undergarment so as to not embarrass myself in front of a god.
“I’m ready,” I said, turning to the ocean with a sudden resolve. My sibling would grow up in a new world, I promised myself. That’s what this is for. Paliria waited for me in the surf. I smiled grimly as she pulled me into a fierce hug.
“I’m so sorry,” she said in a tear clogged voice.
“None of this is your fault, understand?” I said seriously, looking straight into her amethyst eyes. “I am choosing to do this.” She nodded tearfully and swam with me silently to our Thinking Rock. As I climbed up on that rock, I thought back to a few weeks ago, when I was laughing with Paliria and oysters and pearls. So long ago. With a smile, I reached up and clutched my necklace as I turned to face the looming beast that soared over my head. Its maw opened wide, revealing sharpened glass embedded in its gums instead of teeth. I shuddered as that mouth closed around me, blocking out the sunlight. My last thought was of a familiar voice shouting my name, saying she loved me. But perhaps that was merely my imagination.
Epilogue
The rock outcropping was the same. Even after over two years. She would’ve thought that at least something significant would’ve changed the day her firstborn and only daughter was snatched up by that sea serpent. Her dark thoughts were interrupted by the pure laugh of her beautiful daughter, Adara. The tiny two year old toddled over the pebbled beach, clutching an object in her chubby, toddler fingers.
“Wook, Mama,” Adara said, using that adorable baby lisp. She thrust the object toward Cassiopeia eagerly. In her daughter’s hand was an aging, battle-scarred shell, cracked in more places than not. “For you,” her daughter said happily before tottering off on a new adventure.
“It’s an oyster shell,” a voice from behind her said. Cassiopeia whorled around, startled. Almost on land, a Nereid drifted in the water, her thick, sand colored hair drifting around her becomingly. Her wild blue eyes watched the queen with an odd intensity.
“What do you want with me?” the queen demanded, suddenly panicked for her daughter. “You can’t have Adara, too!”
The Nereid merely laughed, her voice a gentle waterfall of noise.
“I only wish to convey a message to you from…someone we have in common,” the Nereid said soothingly.
“What is that?”
“’I am well. Do not worry. I practice my curtsy every day to remember you.’”
The queen gasped, clutching the old oyster shell tighter in her hands as she understood the message.
“My daughter is – she didn’t..?” The queen’s voice cracked as two years’ worth of tears spilled down her soft cheeks. Adara tried to wipe away most of the tears with uncontrolled, toddler hands, wondering what had happened to her mother. By the time the queen got control of herself, the Nereid had vanished. The little girl wiggled violently until the queen set her down. As she did so, however, the oyster shell slipped out of her hand. As it hit the ground, the seam split open, revealing the inside. A pearl nestled deep inside.