Ink-Crossed
Prologue"I'm getting too old for this," Sebastian muttered, pumping his claws faster on the way to the throne room.
No other crab he knew had a more stressful position in the whole of the Atlantic. The shell on Sebastian's back got a little heavier every time High King Triton added to his duties. When Sebastian was a hatchling, all he had to do was chase after the princesses, and keep an eye out for trouble at court. Then, after his years of faithful service, he'd been an invaluable asset to the royal family as an advisor and spy in the Mer-Cecaelian Civil war, but as the decades passed, High King Triton had demoted him to Chamberlain duties, such as organizing the palace events, snooping on would-be suitors for his offspring, and Poseidon-forbid, chaperoning their attempts at courting the poor girls.
"Quiet down, quiet down! I'm already half-deaf as it is," he gruffed to the announcers, a pair of blow-fish stationed at the doors.
"Advisor Sebastian, here to attend the High King!" one of the blow-fish bellowed in his ear all the same, and Sebastian, squinting through the dazzling reflections of the room, saw why.
Sitting in Sebastian's seat to the right of the High King's cushioned clam-shell throne, was an entirely unwelcome guest.
"Sebastian, join us," boomed King Triton from his place on the throne.
Triton's white beard would have reached his navel if the gentle currents in the room didn't keep it floating before his face like an anemone. His head held the weight of the wrought-coral crown with royal dignity, and his left hand clenched sternly around the gold trident that marked his kingship over the oceans. Although his steely gaze was sharp and would brook no reproach from anyone who didn't know him, his gray tail drooped off the edge of the throne limply enough that his fins brushed the floor some nine feet below. Sebastian could see even from the bottom of the sloped entryway how tired he looked. It was a look that was becoming steadily more frequent with these recent 'visits.'
"Good evening, My King," Sebastian greeted, flipping harder. Even if a comfortable seat was no longer waiting for him, he could see from the annoyance on the guest's face and knew he'd arrived later than he should. "High King Triton, King Ezra," Sebastian greeted again with a bow.
"Ah Salmon," Ezra greeted with a subtly disguised sneer. "How nice to see you again. The High King wouldn't start without you."
King Ezra, one of the only Cecaelians left who were allowed in court, never directly insulted Sebastian, but it was obvious with the way his black tentacles curled beneath him in displeasure just how much he hated his presence. Sebastian could hardly blame him. While his own efforts during the war were always dedicated to the kingdom of Atlantis, Ezra's own loyalties had only shifted at the very end. After any true Cecaelean heirs to the Atlantis throne had been removed, Ezra, their general, had been willing to make a peace treaty in exchange for marriage to King Triton' eldest daughter. Whether this set him in line for the throne or not was unclear, but what was very clear was his people's hatred toward his change in loyalties. Although Ezra's wife, the mer-princess Adriatta always seemed happy with the arrangement, she had changed so much since their wedding that Sebastian couldn't help but be concerned.
Sebastian resisted a sudden urge to shake the bubbles out of his head. The longer he stared at Ezra, the more his mind seemed murky with images from the past, and clearly, the high king expected something from him in this meeting.
"As I was saying, King Triton," Ezra said through a smile that, in Sebastian's opinion, showed just a few too many of his pointed teeth, "the unrest in the depths is growing, and I can no longer ignore its effect on my people. I lost three soldiers only last week to a vampire squid escaped from its bounds. The eels ignore their borders and traipse into my territories bearing all manner of excuses, and you are of course aware that the Arctic king has never been satisfied with the conditions he has allotted for his people!"
Though the high king listened patiently to Ezra's complaints, Sebastian's eyes narrowed to where they were no longer distinguishable from his nostrils.
"Vampire squid, you say, King Ezra?" Sebastian asked, keeping flippers politely at his sides. They eat only sea-snow. Surely one wouldn't be enough to fight three Cecaelian guards?"
If scowls could kill, Sebastian would have been a dead terrapin.
"Calling me a liar, crab?" Ezra snapped, shaking his head of silvery hair over his middle-aged face so that the high king wouldn't see his snarl. One of his more unruly tentacles twitched toward Sebastian, and Ezra made an obvious effort to keep it in check. "You don't think I don't keep a very close eye on my soldiers as I have so few?"
His tone seemed to accuse Sebastian personally, hiding a subtextual thanks to you that Ezra couldn't say outright in front of King Triton.
"Please, King Ezra," King Triton ordered, more than said. "I'm aware of the threats. I find it concerning that a creature from the depths would venture so close to the surface. What are you suggesting?"
"I wouldn't suggest anything but the continued stability of Atlantis." Ezra resumed his over-wide smiling. "In fact, I am only coming to ask when that stability will be complete. It has been thirty years since the war, your highness—"
At that, the king's tail gave an annoyed flip that stirred the sand at the base of the throne's pedestal.
"—I am only wondering when the peace will at last be complete." Ezra's tentacles stilled around the base of his—Sebastian's—seat, and a tense pause filled the room. Ezra took to fiddling with a dark black pendant around his middle that Sebastian hadn't noticed among the inky expanse of tentacle.
Sebastian could only imagine that King Triton had been expecting requests for more reparations or soldiers for what was left of the Cecalian caves. It was to Sebastian's amazement, then, when the annoyance left King Triton' face as he answered with a bubbly sigh.
"The alliances I have made with the seven seas came at great cost to me, Ezra. You of course know how precious a cost—are you not satisfied with my eldest and most precious daughter?" he asked, and though he was weary, there was an edge of danger in the King's question.
"Your daughter is the only light I have in some of these dreary days, my king," Ezra replied easily, still stroking the pendant, which by now seemed to have captured the king's flickering attention as well. "It is in fact Queen Adriatta who inspires me to ask this at all.
"Adriatta?" King Triton mumbled, briefly wistful as he stared down at Ezra's twisting fingers. "I suppose…"
"Indeed." Ezra, if possible, smiled even wider, a glint of light reflecting off his teeth and hsining onto one of the many columns around the throne. "If Adriatta can manage in my paltry kingdom so well, I can only imagine how much your other daughters have done to ensure tranquil currents in their respective seas. The last three kingdoms must be brought into the alliance. If the eels take it into their heads to ally with the depths, or the ice-mer, or Poseidon help us, both! We would have another war on our hands far worse than the last.
"End the attacks, my king. Marry your other daughters now, and not only will my paltry lands be safe, but your kingdom will be stronger. It will be the first unity the oceans have seen since Poseidon, himself."
"I have already promised my seventh daughter to Arctic King Aerus," King Triton mused quietly. "I had hoped to give my last two daughters more reign in their choices…"
"My people have patiently complied with all of the citizenry requirements of Atlantis and the oceans beyond," Ezra plodded on, rather forcefully, now gripping the black stone around his neck with the same fervor that King Triton held the trident. "The attacks on the remaining Cecaelia of Atlantis cannot continue. Set the marriages now."
"Now…" Triton moved a hand through his beard thoughtfully, his bushy brow coming together in wrinkled confusion. He still held the trident, but only just.
Sebastian gave the High King an alarmed look. It wasn't at all like Triton to drone or trail off like this. In fact, it wasn't like Triton to do anything but bark decisions and orders. Tentatively, he cleared his throat, subtly nudging the king with one flipper.
"My king? Perhaps this decision merits some…deliberation?"
The king, to Sebastian's relief, seemed to snap back into himself, but not in the way that he'd hoped.
"Deliberation costs lives, Sebastian!" King Triton barked the familiar phrase, and Sebastian's head shrunk a few inches into his shell, wishing he'd chosen any other word. He knew that the other princesses weren't ready—were hoping that this sort of thing would never come.
"Yes, my king. It is only that your last three daughters have not yet turned, and surely the Arctic can wai—"
Ezra's smirk grew deeper as he turned to tapping one tentacle around the pendant, using his arms to sink back more comfortably into the seat. It was the posture of a Cecaelia who knew he'd won.
"Summon Seline, Sephina, and Ariel!" Triton ordered, before another word could be said.
"I…" Sebastian flapped his flippers helplessly in the agitated current that was building around King Triton as his grip resumed on the trident. He was the last turtle in the world who wanted to deliver this sort of news. His shell seemed to gain another ten pounds as he met Triton' steely gaze, and knew there was no way out. "Of course, my king."