Rhodoreef

29. The New Dawn

ONE WEEK LATER

A queen stared out of the mirror.

She had crimson lips, flawlessly bronzed skin and pink hair curving into an elaborate knot. Puffed out sleeves and embroidered drapery popped out in iridescent magenta, interspersed with black and white. A wreath of gold perched on her head, twisting into an ornate algal shape.

It was Queen Dea, the newly crowned monarch of Calliathron. She kept repeating it in her head, but this was a stranger she didn't recognize.

Out of the picture of perfection, half-lidded eyes looked on—pools of molten gold enhanced by the shining starfish jewelry on her neck and ears. She had barely glanced at a mirror since returning to Calliathron a week ago. Now, as she peered closer, a void yawned behind her kohl-enhanced gaze.

Dea turned her head slightly to the side and traced the pattern that extended out from the corner of her eye. It was a cresting ocean wave—a benign mark of vitality that hid the power to carve out colossal arches of rock and raze entire cities to the ground.

These were times as treacherous as a brewing cyclone. The burden was heavy on her shoulders.

The air of disuse lingered in the air, even though they had done their best to prepare the queen's chamber for the occasion. The pearlescent room was bigger than the entirety of Gramma's mobile home.

She tuned into the hushed medley of clinks, voices and splashes. The stylist who had done her hair hurriedly cleared the mess on the table, while another bustled about somewhere behind her. A photographer hovered in the background, biding her time for an artistic shot.

As the activity unfolded, Dea watched on with detached interest as if she were experiencing a hyperrealistic video game than her own life. It was the same reaction she had when they introduced her to the few living members of her mother's family over the course of the week.

The door slid open, accompanied by splashing noises.

Hima entered the room, leading Gramma in. The dark cloud that engulfed her had extended to swallow her friend as well, judging by the set jaw and grim expression.

Gramma swam to a stop next to her and whispered, "You look so much like your mother today."

Dea made no response as she fingered the starfish necklace. The jewelry was retrieved from the pawn shop and delivered to her three days ago. She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall.

It was almost time.

The new queen of Calliathron was to address her people for the first time.

"To be honest, child," Gramma began to say and faltered. "I don't have a good feeling about—of course, His Excellency knows best. I just—"

"I want to do this," Dea said, her voice coming out gravelly. "I have to set this right."

Gramma sighed and wrung her hands. Hima simply leaned against the wall, arms crossed and face vacant.

A firm fist knocked on the door.

It turned out to be two members of the Royal Guard. "If you're ready, Your Highness, we would like to escort you."

Without a word, Dea pushed back the chair and got to her tail. One of the stylists hastened to do last minute adjustments to her outfit. A makeup artist materialized to dab at her cheeks.