“It’ll only take a minute to measure you,” the woman with the white hair said. She gave a respectful nod in Triton’s direction before pulling out something that vaguely resembled a measuring tape. “The numbers don’t need to be exact. Sea silk adapts to its wearer. But you’re much smaller than any adult female merrae, so we don’t have much that fits you. And we definitely don’t have it in blue.”

“I don’t think I need more blue in my life at this point.” I lifted my arms at her instruction.

“Merrae always wear clothing in the color of their scales. It’s tradition,” Rayna explained. “Until we get yours done, this should work.” She put a small bundle of light green silk in my hand before she started measuring me.

“I don’t have scales.”

“Sure you do.” The woman measuring me tapped a spot on my lower back. Though I did feel her touch me, it felt slightly different than usual. “Your first one already showed up right here. It’s the same color as your mate’s.”

I bit my tongue on a response that Triton wasn’t my mate. Repeating that hadn’t done me any good yet. It just made my situation seem less controllable and more certain than I wanted it to be.

“Blue-scaled merrae are considered a blessing from the sky goddess,” the woman measuring me added. “They’re a sign of power. A king and queen with blue scales is the best omen we could possibly ask for.”

“Isn’t it Triton’s fault they’re blue?” I checked.

“Probably,” Rayna agreed. “But because you’re sitting on the throne with him, you’ll be just as strong as he is.”

I wasn’t against the idea of being powerful, if just so my lovely new husband couldn’t control me.

But I still wasn’t in favor of being a mermonster.

“Done.” The woman whose name I didn’t know stepped back and flashed me a smile. “Welcome to the sea kingdom, Aria. Ovah ven raren.”

I had no idea what that last sentence meant, but managed a small smile anyway. “Thanks.”

She and Rayna left the room. I closed the door behind them—and locked it, too.

I didn’t know if there was anyone who might try to break into our room or something, but at the moment, I felt slightly safer with Triton than I did with any strangers outside.

“What does ovah ven raren mean?” I asked the king, who was still relaxing on the bed like he had no worries at all.

“It doesn’t have a direct translation in your language. It’s an ancient vow of respect. The basic idea is along the lines of promising to stand with you, fight at your side, and shield you with their body.”

My eyebrows shot upward. “She doesn’t even know me.”