Shui Yi's eyes fluttered open, her body aching with exhaustion. She sluggishly sat up, her head clouded. The familiar surroundings of the throne room only deepened the sense of confusion. This was the last place she expected to find herself.
"Father," she called out, hoping for the comfort she always found in his embrace. But as she looked up, the King gripped her shoulders firmly and gently, pushing her away with a resolve that sent a chill through her.
"Father?" Her voice trembled, a question hanging in the air. His gaze, usually filled with tenderness, now pierced through her with an intensity she had never seen before. She felt as though a stranger stood before her. Was this how other merfolks felt when they were in his presence? Her father had always been protective and loving. This unexplained distance formed a knot of fear in her chest.
His voice broke through her thoughts, sharper than ever.
"I warned you, Shui Yi."
Her hand instinctively touched her side, finding the wounds gone, healed completely.
"You could have died out there."
She nodded, absentmindedly. Hadn't he saved her from the sea monster? She understood why he might be upset, but something felt amiss.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
He swam back, his eyes hardening. "It's unforgivable that you brought a dangerous thief into our kingdom. He stole the Sacred Pearl."
Her heart skipped a beat. The Sacred Pearl was stolen? The realization hit her like a crashing wave. Her breath caught in her throat as she scrambled to understand. She thought her father had dealt with the stranger, or at least had come to an understanding with him. No one in the Ocean Realm should be able to escape him.
"But you said he was an honored guest..." she whispered, barely able to meet his gaze.
"Honored guest?" The King sneered, his voice bitter, filled with the sting of betrayal. "He's not of our blood. It was all a ruse, and now he's disappeared with our most sacred treasure."
Her mind reeled. How could someone like him be a thief? He had manners and appeared respectable. She had been so focused on saving a life, on helping someone in need, that the thought never crossed her mind.
Her father's gaze swept over her, a fleeting moment, she thought she saw hesitation in his eyes. But then it vanished, replaced by the cold authority of the sovereign of the Ocean Realm, his duty to uphold the laws of his people.
"This," he said, pointing to the cloak, "is the proof. No merfolk would wear such a thing. It's the thief's cloak. You have broken the law."
Her eyes flickered to the cloak her father had pointed to, and the truth hit her like a tidal wave. It wasn't just the thief's disappearance—it was her fault.
Her hands trembled as she struggled to form words. She felt suffocated by the consequence of her impulse. The evidence lay in her hands, the cloak a silent witness to her mistake. How had she not noticed it before? Her throat tightened, and she tore the cloak from her shoulders, throwing it aside hoping that getting rid of it would erase the damage she had done. But it was too late. The evidence was ironclad. She had no way to defend herself.
"I didn't know..." she whispered, her voice breaking as the words fell from her lips.
"I trusted you," he said, his voice trembling. "I tried. But now... you've broken the law. You know I am not above it. I have to think about the future of all merfolk. I can't make exceptions."
She felt as though she was sinking into quicksand. She had betrayed him and her people. Pangs of guilt surged through her. Her hands shook uncontrollably, her palms cold and clammy.
She looked at the cloak in disbelief. How could she have been so blind? Her voice trembled as she whispered, "How… did you find me?" She didn't understand, she didn't remember how it had come to rest on her. The memories were hazy, fragments of a broken dream.
The bitter truth seeped through her, and her chest constricted painfully. She had unknowingly broken the law, all because she had helped a non-merfolk.
The tears started to fall, as regret and sorrow swirled within her. She had made a mistake, a mistake that she couldn't make up for. "Father, I promise I won't do it again," she pleaded, her voice breaking as she reached for him. She grasped at his tail, hoping for some sign that he would forgive her, that he would understand.
His eyes softened briefly as he bent down, taking her hands in his. But that softness was fleeting like the gentle breeze of the sea. He let go of her hands and swam back to his throne, his back straightened as he resumed the role of the sovereign. "Shui Yi," he whispered, his voice trembling. "It breaks my heart to say this to you. But for the crime of treason, you are to be banished from the Ocean Realm."
Her heart tore as the words sank in, her body frozen in disbelief. Banished?! The world spun around her as she clutched the sea, desperate to hold on to the only world she had ever known. "Father, I'll do anything to fix this. Please… don't send me away."
Her father refused to look at her, turning his back. The silence between them was deafening, every part of her hoping for him to turn back, to hold her, to tell her it would be alright. But he didn't. He wouldn't. His head dipped, and he took a deep breath. The trident beside him began to hum softly, an ominous sound that matched the apathy in his eyes. It thrummed through the water like an impending storm, filling her with dread as her world shattered watching the one who had always been her protector turn away. The gravity of his decision pressed down on her, suffocating and oppressive.
The ocean fell into mourning, its currents whispering of what could have been. She burst into tears, knowing her father wasn't furious. She had always been his pride, and now she was the cause of his grief. She felt his pain ripple through the water. Yet she understood that, as sovereign, he couldn't allow her actions to go unpunished. She could tell by the absence of the usual storm of emotions that swirled through the sea when he was angry. The currents exuded a suffocating melancholy; he was grieving a wound she had unknowingly inflicted.
***
The King glanced at his daughter, his heart heavy with an unbearable sorrow. He had never imagined that it would come to this—never imagined that the only way to protect her would be to cast her out. The confusion and hurt in her eyes were so clear; she couldn't understand. How could she? How could any of them? His hands trembled as he fought the urge to reach out to her, to pull her close and tell her it wasn't true, that he would never hurt her. But the truth was more painful than any lie he could tell. This was the only way. Better for her to hate him now than cling to him with a false belief in safety.
The water around them began to stir, swirling with the intensity of his thoughts. He barely noticed it at first, until the ripples turned to waves. The ocean, channeled his resolve now, no longer mourning with him. The salt stung his eyes, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from her face. His voice faltered, the words sticking in his throat. Every fiber of his being screamed against what he was about to do. But he had to.
The King's hands trembled, and the ocean began to surge. His voice broke as he spoke the ancient incantation—a spell reserved for the sovereign alone. The words came slowly, each one dragging him further from his daughter. The sea shuddered, and his eyes glowed as the currents roared with dark magic.