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 be in.
"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 made her chest tighten with fear.
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 stepped back, his eyes hardening. "It's unforgivable that you brought a dangerous thief into our kingdom. He stole the Sacred Pearl."
Her heart stopped. The Sacred Pearl? Gone? 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 an understanding with him. She hadn't known that he was able to evade her father. No one in the Ocean Realm should be able to do that.
"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 seemed to have manners and appeared respectable. She had been so focused on saving a life, on helping someone in need, and he seemed harmless.
Her father's gaze swept over her, a fleeting moment of hesitation in his eyes. Then it vanished, replaced by the cold authority of the ruler of the Ocean Realm, a 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 the law."
The words were like daggers, cutting through her chest. The realization of what she had done finally dawned on her.
"I have to think about the future of all merfolk. I can't make an exception."
She felt as though she was sinking into quicksand. She had betrayed him, and her people. Pangs of guilt surged through her, filling her with desperation. 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 with barely contained sorrow. "It breaks my heart to say this to you. But for the crime of treason, you are to be banished from this realm."
Her heart shattered as the words sank in, her body locked in disbelief. Banished?!From everything she had ever known? The world around her seemed to spin, and she clutched at the sea, trying to hold on to the world she was losing.
"Father, please. I can change. I'll do anything to fix this. Please… don't send me away." She felt the words tear themselves from her chest, desperate and raw, but they had no weight. Nothing could stop the inevitable.
Her father refused to look at her, turning his back to her. The silence between them was deafening, and every part of her screamed 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.
Her world fell apart as she watched her father—the one who had always been her protector—turn his back on her. She could feel the gravity of his decision pressing down on her chest, suffocating her.
The ocean fell into mourning, its currents whispering of what could have been. She burst into tears, she knew that her father wasn't furious with her. She had always been her father's pride. Now, she was the cause of his grief. It tore at her to feel his pain through the water. But she knew that, as ruler, he couldn't allow her actions to go unpunished. She could tell by the stillness of the currents, the absence of the usual storm of emotions that would swirl around when he was angry. The currents emanated a suffocating melancholy; he was grieving from 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, that she could not 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 weave. This is the only way. Better for her to hate him now, than cling to him with a false belief of 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, no longer mourning with him. The salt stung his eyes, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from her face.
His voice faltered for a moment, 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 started to surge. His voice broke as he began to speak the ancient incantation. The words came out slowly, dragging him further from his daughter. The sea shuddered, the currents thickening with dark magic. His eyes glowed as the currents roared, echoing his resolve.