The Festival de la Libertad was still a new holiday, but an important one to the citizens of Nueva Vista. It was not only the anniversary of Queen Elena's victory over Shuriki and ascension to the throne, but also the anniversary of their peace treaty with the Sirenas. As such, the newly appointed Duke Esteban of Nueva Vista had his work cut out for him, organizing the masquerade parade along the canals and the subsequent feast at the palace. It all had to be frugal, since Cristobal's habit of taking bribes in gnoblin gold had wreaked havoc on the economy, but it still had to look glamorous enough to keep the people happy. In other words, it was exactly the kind of challenge Esteban enjoyed.

"You know how this will look, don't you?" he had asked Elena when she'd first suggested giving him the dukedom. "Handing one traitor's estate over to another as a reward? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I don't care how it looks," his cousin had retorted. "You said yourself at your trial that you've always felt overshadowed in this family. You need a place of your own, and Nueva Vista needs a responsible leader. Besides, anyone who knows what a mess Cristobal left behind wouldn't exactly call it a "reward" … "

"This is true," he'd deadpanned, making Elena smirk.

Today, Esteban and an entourage of councilors stood on the white marble staircase that led down to the main canal, the same staircase where Elena had first shaken hands with King Pescoro, and waited for the delegation from Coronado to arrive. A parade float was moored nearby, waiting for the Duke and an expected guest to join the parade.

That guest would be Coronado's first ever Ambassador to Avalor, some very brave (or unfortunate) Sirena who had volunteered to be transformed into a human and live at the palace full-time to better represent their people during negotiations. The young half-human royals would have been ideal candidates, but they were both on an extended diplomatic visit to Merroway Cove, another Sirena kingdom in the north. Esteban hoped, whoever the new ambassador was, they'd be even half as committed to peace as Marisa and Marzel.

He held on to his walking stick, reminding himself not to pace in circles with half the city watching from sidewalks and windows. Sirenas made him uneasy. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help it. The old association with shipwrecks was strong, and so was the new association with Shuriki's death. These warriors of the sea had risked their lives to fight the sorceress while he'd sat helplessly locked in the Tower. Depending on how much they knew, they must think him weak at best and wicked at worst. How much did they know?

"You worry so much about what others think of you, mijo," Francisco had told him once, with an affectionate pat to the front of his jacket. "What does your own heart tell you?"

Right now, all Esteban's heart told him was that he had to make this alliance work.

The Sirenas came swimming gracefully up from the sea, accompanied by a burst of celebratory music played on instruments made of shells. King Pescoro and Queen Camila, regal in matching blue and white with their crowns of coral and pearls, were in the lead. Just behind them swam Commander Daria, with short fiery hair, spiked armor, multiple ear piercings and a take-no-prisoners expression on her face. If one of Esteban's young cousins dressed like that, he'd emphatically disapprove, but on her, the effect was as gorgeous as it was terrifying.

His heart rate sped up. His palms were sweaty. He made sure he had a tight grip on his walking stick before giving the party his best welcoming bow.

"Your Majesty, honored guests," he said in his well-practiced public voice, "As every year, you are most welcome to Nueva Vista."

"As every year, we are pleased to be here," Pescoro replied with grave courtesy, reaching up to offer his hand.

Esteban gritted his teeth, ignored his aching joints, and knelt down so that he and the royal couple would be face to face when they shook hands. Symbolism was important. Pescoro had a crushing, watery grip, but moderated it quickly. Camila's hand was very gentle. Both looked their human counterpart in the eye with smiles of genuine goodwill. "Congratulations on your appointment, Duke Esteban," said the King. "May this city prosper under your leadership."

"Thank you, sire. I can only hope to be worthy of the fine examples I observe."

A small movement at the edge of Esteban's vision distracted him. Glancing over Pescoro's shoulder, he caught sight of Commander Daria, whose one bare, tanned shoulder had just moved in a sigh of boredom, or possibly disgust. Kohl-lined black eyes met his with a flicker of a raised eyebrow. What in the Ever Realm was he supposed to say next?

"Allow me to present our new Ambassador to Avalor," said King Pescoro, taking a few steps (fin strokes?) backward and gestured to the woman on his left. "Lady Daria."

It took a lifetime of diplomatic experience for Esteban not to yelp.

He had not forgotten that Daria's sabotage had nearly ruined the peace treaty, although the royals seemed to have forgiven her. She made no secret of still being on guard around humans, though, and now she was supposed to live with them?

Daria swam forward with a poker-faced expression, as if she couldn't believe this either. "Sir."

"Ambassador." Esteban held out his hand again, intending to take hers and bow over it at just the right angle to be flattering but not inappropriate. She gave him a military salute instead, thumping her armored chest with a closed fist.

"It's time, Daria," said Camila.

"I know, ma'am," she said quietly. "Please … tell my successor to look after Ocho?"

That was the first time Esteban saw those fierce black eyes soften. Whoever Ocho was, she must be very fond of them.

"I already did." The Queen smiled.

Daria took a few deep breaths, as if to nerve herself for something unpleasant, and swam over to the staircase beside Esteban. She sat down on the stairs and closed her eyes.

"She has human blood in her," the King explained to Esteban in an undertone. "Several generations back, but sometimes that's enough."

As he spoke, Daria's body began to emit a blinding white glow. As Esteban blinked the light spots out of his eyes, he realized that her long, sleek, black and orange fish tail was changing into a pair of long, sleek human legs in black and orange trousers. Esteban sternly reminded himself that gentlemen did not gawk, especially when the lady in question was undergoing a fundamental and possibly traumatic life change. The gasps, yelps, cheers and (unfortunately) hisses from his citizens told him that not everyone felt the same way.

"No," Daria said flatly when he offered to help her up. "I'll have to learn to walk sometime. May as well … "

Whatever she was about to say next was interrupted by an undignified growl as her brand-new feet threatened to slip out from under her. Esteban caught her around the waist before she could wipe out on the stairs. Her body was all hard muscle. Her eyes smoldered.

"You can let go now."

"Of course." Esteban backed off immediately. "My apologies."

There were a few more pleasantries exchanged with the King and Queen, but Esteban was so rattled by the encounter, he hardly noticed what they were saying. He did notice that, as they swam away after saying their goodbyes, Daria kept her eyes on them even after the last fin had disappeared underwater.

"All right then," said Esteban, rather more awkwardly than a seasoned statesman should. "Time for the parade, Ambassador. Shall we?"

He remembered not to try to help her this time, even when she wobbled dangerously while stepping onto the parade float ahead of him. As the gondoliers pushed off and the float began to move, she came very near to overbalancing. He covered for her with flamboyant bows and waves to the crowd, although they'd probably seen it anyway. One of her feet, he couldn't help noticing, was twisted to the side, as if it had been broken and set wrong.

"It's my bad fin," she said, catching his stare again, much to his dismay. "I guess it was too much to hope it wouldn't carry over."

"A bad fin … ?"

"Fisher's harpoon. I was eight."

Esteban's heart seized up at the pain and terror implied beneath those simple words. No wonder the woman found it so difficult to trust humans. No wonder she'd tried to derail the peace treaty. But what was she doing here? How brave would someone have to be to walk into a whole city of one's childhood demons?

He couldn't pity her, or praise her. She'd probably give him another of those death glares if he tried. For a woman of so few words, it would have to take action to prove he was sincere.

The parade float turned a sharp corner, making her wobble again. This gave him an idea. With a mental apology to his back, hips and knees, he held out his walking stick. He could do without it for a quarter of an hour, or however long it took until he could grab a spare one from his quarters at the palace. "You may borrow this if you wish, Ambassador. They're very fashionable on land, you know."

"Fashionable? Pfft." She smirked as she leaned on the stick. "I see what you did there. Thank you."

At least she had a sense of humor. He could work with this. He still wanted to know more about her, though.

"So … from military officer to diplomat, that's quite an impressive career change. May I ask what gave you the idea?"

"I told my king I would do anything to support the cause of peace. He took me at my word."

"Ah … I see."

It was an answer as straightforward as a thrown spear, with no evasions or qualifications. She looked him squarely in the eye when she spoke. Either she was the best liar he'd ever set eyes on, or she meant what she said … and if so, he thought he might begin to understand her.

Perhaps the ambassadorship was her atonement, just as Nueva Vista was his.

"You're in pain."

"Wha - Excuse me?" he sputtered. Could Sirenas read minds? Was that a trait they hadn't bothered to inform humans of until now?

"It's your back, isn't it? You move like an old soldier - when you're not showing off. Should've put seats on this thing."

Esteban decided not to take offense. This, after all, was true. He'd definitely have chairs added next year.

"I'd hardly call myself a soldier. Too much time at my desk, that's all." Not to mention hiking through jungles, sleeping in caves, fighting for his life and being turned to stone … but that was not something he cared to discuss with her quite yet.

She shot him another skeptical look. He wondered once again how much the Sirenas knew about his record, but either way, she had a point. His scars might not be as obvious as hers, but they definitely hurt.

What Daria did next shocked him as much as her appearance had done in the first place.

"Is this okay?" She linked arms with him to support his weight, keeping his stick in her other hand. She did this matter-of-factly, as he supposed she would have done for a wounded fellow soldier. But to the citizens, he knew, it would serve as proof that they took their people's alliance seriously - and to him, it was an unexpected joy.

"Ah … yes. Much obliged."

She was so warm; he hadn't even noticed how cold the sea wind was until she did that. For a water creature, she seemed made of fire, and not only because of her hair.

For the rest of the parade, Esteban forgot he even had a back as he smiled and waved to his people. It would probably start aching again tonight, but for a moment like this, he considered it more than worth it.