Olympienne tilted her lavender head between us in consideration. She pursed her lavender lips. “Do not be silly. Of course melusines cannot drown. We have gills.” She bared her neck, revealing pearlescent slits along the side of her throat. “And lungs.” She inhaled deeply. “But yes, unfortunately, such handsome attire can prove quite troublesome underwater. We have much anticipated your arrival for just this reason.”

“To wear dresses?” Beau frowned as a young boy strode past in scarlet breeches and billowing cloak. He bared sharp teeth at us. “You drained the entire city to wear . . . dresses.”

“We drained the city because we are courteous hosts,” Lasimonne said, his voice unexpectedly deep. “That we should also wear our treasure is a pleasant inclusion.”

Wear our treasure. Huh. It made sense. Where else would a melusine trapped below water find such sumptuous clothing but sunken ships? Perhaps Lasimonne’s ruby nipple rings had come from the ship we approached at this very moment, splintered at the base of Le Palais de Cristal.

“How long does it take to drain an entire city?” I peered down a darkened alley that seemed to drop straight into an abyss, where I swore I saw an enormous eye blink. “And what’s down there?”

“A giant squid. No, do not provoke it.” Aurélien steered me back onto the main road with the tip of his trident.

“Isla foresaw your arrival months ago.” Sabatay tossed his braid over a sculpted shoulder and gestured for us to keep moving. The palace loomed directly ahead of us now. “From the moment you chose to marry the huntsman rather than flee or allow the authorities to lock you away.”

Beau cleared his throat, glancing up at the waters far above. The sea stars’ reflection pulsed faintly in his dark eyes. “Yet Constantin was quite adamant that Célie and I not enter this place. Indeed, he said humans who drank of the waters would go mad.”

Elvire looked at us from over her shoulder. “And did you drink of the waters?”

“I—” Beau frowned and looked at Célie. “Did we?”

She shook her head slowly, brow creasing. “I don’t know. I did have a rather disturbing dream while unconscious, but I thought . . .”

Elvire patted her arm knowingly. “Dreams are never dreams, Mademoiselle Célie. They are our deepest wishes and darkest secrets made true, whispered only under cloak of night. In them, we are free to know ourselves.”

Beau’s skin appeared sallow in the ghostly light, and he swallowed, visibly disturbed. “I didn’t speak any truth.”

Elvire arched a silver brow. “Didn’t you, Your Highness?” When he didn’t answer—merely stared at her in confusion and dismay—she chuckled softly. “Never fear. You shall not go mad from it. You entered the waters under the Oracle’s invitation, and she will protect your mind for the duration of your stay.”