Triton introduced me to everyone at the table, and the kids waved and grinned at me. One of the little boys told me he liked my weird blue hair. Another one said he wanted tattoos on his arm like mine. The girl countered that she thought my tattoos were stupid.

I couldn’t help but love their bluntness. It felt like a breath of fresh air.

The adults were friendly too, and asked polite questions about my life on Earth before we started talking about their kids and babies when our plates arrived.

The food was insanely delicious. I was shocked by how good it was, and when I stole a bite of Triton’s, I realized his was even better. He scooted his plate right next to mine, and we shared all of the food without discussing it while the conversation at the table flowed.

Triton seemed to know many small, personal details about the families, so it seemed safe to assume he was actually their friend. I never would’ve expected their king to know all of those things. But then again, I was still learning how the merrae worked.

Triton teased the kids and grabbed them with magic before they could run off every time. They thought it was hilarious, and slowly worked through their food.

My gaze kept going back to the babies.

I only had one cousin on my mom’s side of the family. We were only a few years apart in age, but she was always off on service missions in third world countries. I hadn’t seen her since I was twelve, and we didn’t talk on holidays or anything.

On my dad’s side, I had four cousins, but they were assholes just like he was.

So family wasn’t really a thing for me.

Little kids weren’t either.

They were cute, though. In a messy, wild way.

And Triton clearly adored them.

One of the babies made a loud sound as I finished up my plate, and I looked his way again. He waved a toy at me, grinning with a face covered in some kind of food. He was strapped in a small seat that was set up on the table, like a weird version of Earth’s highchairs.

I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling back at the little guy.

Was I supposed to smile back?

Or ignore him?

Or… what?

He shoved the toy at me, and my forehead creased.

Was I supposed to take it?

I glanced at Triton, but he was still playing the game with the toddlers where he dragged them back to the table with water tentacles while they tried to run away.

When I peeked at the baby’s dad, to see if he cared, I got a small, respectful smile and a quick bow of his head.

Guess I could take the toy.

I slowly accepted it, and the baby squealed in delight.