Married life was nothing like a dream. It felt as if Cyrus had plummeted from a vivid reverie into cold, unrelenting reality.
Vera was no longer gentle, nor restrained. She had no reason to be. She was the princess now—the crowned wife of the heir to Astoria. There was no need to please anyone anymore, and no need to pretend. Her warmth vanished like mist, replaced by an icy indifference she never bothered to hide from Cyrus.
"You went to the tower again?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe, her voice edged with mockery and her gaze frosted over. "Are you a prince, or just some pathetic lovesick fool? She's gone. Vanished. What more do you want?"
Cyrus didn't turn. He stood silently by the window, eyes fixed on the horizon where the ocean met the sky.
He often returned to the tower—the one that once echoed with laughter and the faint scent of the sea. He still kept her hairpin, a single strand of hair fallen from her comb, even the cup she once drank from. He wouldn't allow the servants to clean the room, nor would he let anyone speak her name.
And every time Vera saw the look in his eyes—the one that still held an unshakable trace of devotion—her fury ignited anew.
"She was just a mute," Vera sneered. "She couldn't even tell you she loved you. What did you see in her? Her beauty? You're my husband now, and it's time you stopped grieving like a lovesick peasant."
At last, Cyrus turned to face her, fire burning behind his calm demeanor. "She couldn't speak, but she gave me her whole heart. And you—you've been lying to me from the very beginning."
"I lied?" Vera gave a cold laugh. "I only showed you the truth. Even someone you loved won't wait for you forever. And if you truly loved her, why did you let her walk away broken?"
"That was your doing," Cyrus said, voice shaking with anger. "If it weren't for your interference—"
"And what if it was?" she cut him off sharply, her expression gleaming with twisted triumph. "If I can't have your heart, then no one will. If you won't love me, then you'll never have the one you truly love either."
She left with those words, her gown brushing against the marble floor like a blade dragged behind her.
Cyrus stood frozen in place, watching her go without a word.
That night, he went to the sea alone.
The waves crashed beneath the cliffs, and in the distance, a faint light shimmered on the edge of the dark sky. He stood on the rocks, looking down at the tide swirling below him. The waves lapped against the stone like countless whispering voices—You destroyed her… You lost her…
Suddenly, a shadow rose from the sea, breaking through the water's surface. Cyrus gripped the silver-blue dagger at his side, bracing himself.
It was a grotesque figure—stooped, wrinkled, skin dark and slick like seaweed. But when she spoke, her voice was hauntingly beautiful, like a song sung by ancient sea spirits.
"Don't be afraid," she said gently. "I haven't come to hurt you. I've only come to retrieve my dagger."
Cyrus glanced down at the dagger in his hand. "Why was it in my room?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
The sea witch gave a low, sorrowful chuckle. Her hair trailed behind her like dark kelp, eyes deep and endless.
"Because she disappeared before she could return it."
Cyrus's chest tightened. "She… who?"
The witch's gaze softened. "You've already guessed, haven't you? If I recall correctly… you called her Lia."
It took him a long moment to find his voice again. "You said she disappeared… What do you mean?"
The witch's eyes shimmered with a strange pity. She let out a long sigh. "Would you like to hear a story? One about a mermaid?"
The wind curled around them, whispering through the night as the sea witch began her tale.
"She was the youngest daughter of the ocean's royal family. One day, she sneaked to the surface… and found a prince shipwrecked on the rocks..."
Cyrus's breath caught in his throat.
"To see you again, she came to me. She begged me to give her legs. But the price—do you know what it was? She tore her tail apart. She offered me her voice. And half her heart. All for a chance to enter your world."
Cyrus's hands trembled, struggling to keep hold of the dagger. He didn't want to hear more. He didn't want to know how much more Lia had suffered for him. But the sea witch continued.
"You loved her smile, didn't you? But every step she took was like walking on shattered glass. She couldn't tell you, because her voice—she gave it up.
Every moment she spent with you was agony.
Her sisters came to me and asked me to forge this dagger. If she used it to kill you and spilled your blood onto her feet, she could return to the sea… and live."
Cyrus's eyes widened in horror. His voice cracked. "But she didn't."
"No," the sea witch said softly. "She watched you marry another. She watched you kiss and hold that woman. And still, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
She gave up everything. And in the end, she chose to vanish. Into foam." The witch tilted her head. "You saw the trail of water near the dagger, didn't you?"
Cyrus collapsed to his knees. Tears poured from his eyes, unstoppable, falling onto the stone and washing into the sea.
He buried his face in his hands, choking on sobs. "Lia… Lia… I'm sorry…"
The wind wailed around him, and the waves crashed harder, echoing his grief.
Then, without warning, he rose to his feet—and jumped.
The cold sea swallowed him whole. Water flooded his lungs. But this time, he didn't struggle.
This time, she wouldn't be there to save him.
And that was all right. He welcomed the darkness, welcomed the end.
At last, it would all be quiet.
Just before he lost consciousness, the crystal pendant on his chest flared with a soft blue light—
———
New York. Dawn.
In one quiet corner of Central Park, the lake rippled in the breeze. A silver fish leapt into the air, carved a graceful arc, and slipped back into the water.
By the shore, a young woman stood with her sketchpad and paints, smiling faintly.
On the page was the image of a silver-blue mermaid, drifting at the water's surface, her tail glinting like moonlight.
The Realm of the Mermaids—closed.