Otohime unwrapped the last of her bandages, carefully inspecting the skin underneath. A faint line of pink, newly healed skin marked the outside of her bicep. The area was tender to touch, but the Queen of Fishman Island was not hampered by the wound. She doubted it would even scar.
Her frail body held numerous blemishes: A motley bruise from when her oldest son had grabbed her too hard in excitement, a bump on her right wrist from a compound fracture healed years ago, the Cesarean scar on her belly from her daughter's birth. Otohime's body was an amalgamation of aches and pains that went beyond what was expected for a woman on just past forty. And yet, somehow, the small pink line—the result of an errant gunshot—outweighed them all.
"Otohime, did you hear me? A ship has been prepared for the Celestial Dragon. The doctors say he is healed enough to return to the surface," her husband said nervously from the doorway of their bedroom. Her pensive silence worried him. Otohime's heart was more in-tune with Neptune's than anyone else in the world. They had endured so much together, both as husband and wife and rulers of their beloved homeland. She relied on his strength more than he realized, an anchor that kept her grounded in these turbulent seas.
Could she truly stand to leave him?
Did she have any other choice?
"When does he leave?" Otohime asked.
"Immediately. The guards report growing…discontent among the hospital staff. They worry about safety, both his and ours."
Otohime nodded thoughtfully. She had visited Saint Mysogard several times since he had graced the sea floor with his presence, and general consensus was that he was infinitely more likable unconscious. Even the most level-headed staff's patience grew thin after being bombarded by speciest slurs and the hateful rhetoric that prevailed amongst the high nobility.
"Very well, let us see him home," Otohime said.
"Otohime, I know you've tried speaking to him about the petition, but he's not the one you're looking for," Neptune said. "He tried to kill you after you saved his life. There's no bargaining with a man like that."
His voice creaked with desperate pleading, his worry unspoken but understood. Otohime swept across the bedroom and looked up at him. Creases of anxiety and worry framed clear blue eyes the color of a sky she had never seen. How many years had been since she had fallen in love with those eyes?
He leaned down as she reached up to touch his cheek, and before either of them knew exactly what was happening their lips crashed together in a passionate embrace.
After two decades of marriage and four children, Otohime thought she knew all of Neptune's kisses, but she was wrong. She felt his torment as he clung desperately to her. He loved her as few men loved. It sparked a fire in his soul and softened a heart hardened by a lifetime of war and hate. Neptune was a warrior who would protect her with all his strength, and as he kissed her in a way she had never been kissed before, he silently begged for her not to go where he could not follow.
Finally the need for air broke them apart. Otohime stared up at him, a little breathless. It was with tears in her eyes that she smiled at him and said, "I know."
Otohime had to hurry to reach the ship before Saint Mysogard set off. She heard him snarl threats at the armed guard Neptune had assigned to accompany him to the surface before the familiar glass bubble came into view. The effect was undercut by the swaths of pristine white bandages still wrapped around his head—quite unnecessarily, if Otohime understood the doctors correctly. Saint Mysogard's mane of light green hair was likewise in messy disarray, and it appeared that he had misfastened the demi cloak to his bulky white suit. Of course he had refused to be touched by members of the 'inferior species' any more than necessary, and a lifetime of being waited on hand and foot by slaves meant he had never learned to manage such matters himself.
"I won't forget this, you stinking fish! The nerve of you all…Livestock, turning against your rightful masters! I'll make you regret the day you crossed the Celestial Dragons."
The crowd bristled with barely-suppressed rage. Otohime was grateful for Neptune's foresight assigning only the most mild-mannered of his guard to escort Saint Mysogard to the surface. The Dragon neither knew nor cared about his brazen ingratitude as he tossed his head haughtily and ascended to the ship.
For a moment Otohime hesitated. Doubt was an emotion she wasn't used to feeling in herself, and she didn't like it. Not one bit. Never in her life had she felt such arrogance in another being, such delusions of grandeur and importance. She had always known that the Celestial Dragons called themselves gods, but it was one thing to know a thing and another to experience it for herself.
Otohime was accustomed to putting the needs of others before herself. What did her discomfort matter with the future of her country so uncertain? If she did not act now she might never get another chance.
She felt the four Voices of her children behind her, nearly as familiar as her husband. They were watching her every move, learning from her example. Otohime had taught them there was no reason to fear humanity.
It was time to show them that truth.
"Wait! Please!" Otohime cried. "We still have so much to discuss. I will accompany you to the surface."
An uproar went through the crowd, but Neptune's voice was greatest of them all. "Wait, Otohime! I cannot allow such recklessness. If you truly wish to negotiate with the humans, I will go instead!"
He meant every word. His love for her outweighed his hatred for the humans, and he would do anything to take her place. Otohime's heart broke, and she shook her head.
"It would be meaningless for you to go," Otohime said. "It would accomplish nothing if a powerful warrior went to the surface, but if a frail woman was able to return unharmed…That is the only way to prove the surface is safe for our people."
His fear was almost palpable, and Otohime smiled reassuringly.
"Have faith in the wife whom you chose…and in the humans."
There was nothing more to be said. Otohime turned her back on her family and country and boarded the ship. Their worry and anxiety and fear intermingled with her own, but Otohime tempered it with hope.
"I will be back," Otohime whispered to herself, "and I will not have gone in vain."