Beached (book 3)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2
Pale's POV

Silence fell across the room. I could feel my face getting hot.

I wasn't angry at Matthew for hugging Pearl. I wasn't sad or happy either. I was feeling something, but it wasn't any emotion I knew.

There wasn't a reason to feel negative, maybe I was just being overprotective, or maybe I felt awkward.

"Well, I guess it's time to go babysit Pacific now," Pearl said finally breaking the silence.

"Uh yeah," I said quickly, like I just snapped awake from a dream. "Yeah, um, she can't be alone for a long time. She's probably going to accidentally impale herself or something, so you, um, better get up there."

Pearl narrowed her eyes at me. "Pale? Are you okay?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine, I'm fine," I snapped.

"Uh okay," Pearl said, like she wasn't totally sold on what I said. "I'll be going then I guess."

Pearl slowly swam up the stairs and shut the bronze door behind her.

I decided I wasn't going to bring this up again. I mean, it wasn't a big deal. It was a just a hug. I'm too overprotective. And it was just a hug.

Matthew turned to me. "The leaders are going to be here soon. We should get into the conference room."

I nodded and swam up to a large door on the right side of the throne room.

"Are you nervous?" Matthew asked as he turned the knob and opened the door.

When I looked inside the room, I stood in awe. The room was painted entirely gold. On the walls were pictures of merpeople performing tasks like singing, chariot riding and trident throwing.

On the right side of the room were several large windows. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling.

We sat down at the head of a long, brown table. The table had a total of fourteen seats.

Two were for Matthew and I, the rulers of the Atlantic tropics. The rest of the chairs were for the other six nations. The Atlantic, the Arctic, the Pacific, the Indian, the Gulf of Mexico, and the Tropical Pacific.

"I'm sweating," I replied.

"But you can't sweat underwater," Matthew corrected.

"Exactly," I said.

There was a small moment of silence before I spoke again. "How did dad do it all this time? I mean, he had no siblings down here and he and Amphrie only got married a couple years ago. He had to deal with every meeting by himself."

Normally, a King and his wife would go to the meeting together. Since Brian doesn't exactly breathe underwater, Matthew helped me out with the meetings. If I had to do all of this speaking on my own, my head was bound to explode.

The doors suddenly opened and 12 mermaids and mermen poured into the room. They each had royal crowns on their heads and were much older than Matthew and I.

One mermen, who had a shimmering blue tail and jet black hair that was tucked in a man bun, whispered something to another merman, who let out a small laugh.

"I think they're talking about us," Matthew whispered to me.

Matthew then straightened his posture, lifted his chin up high and puffed out his chest, trying to look more mature and powerful. I followed his example.

The merpeople soon took their seats. I felt like a small child compared to these authority figures. They all were so poised, elegant and powerful, meanwhile, Matthew and I were still considered moody, irresponsible teenagers.