And thus, I felt fury.

I lifted squinty eyes at the male.

He shook his head, muttering with disgust, “The land Mer. So intent on passing, they forget who they are.”

“The decision to remain on land was not made by me, male,” I snapped. “It was made generations before my existence was even a hope.”

“But have you visited us?” he asked, opening a hand and using it to indicate our surroundings. “Have you come to be amongst your people?”

“No,” I spat. “And it would appear it was a smart decision, as I am not feeling much delight at the manner of my first invitation here.”

The male glowered at me, and I assumed, quite rightly in my mind, that meant my point was taken.

“And I was amongst my people on the surface,” I went on. “Or have you forsaken us as it’s clear you feel I have forsaken you?”

He had no answer to that either.

I decided not to pursue that line of questioning any longer, for something vastly more important took precedence.

“Why does my husband sleep?” I demanded.

“He was struggling. If his guards lost hold on him, he would die. Necessity urged he lose consciousness. Thus…” he trailed off on a shrug and an indication with a tip of his head to Aramus.

“When will he wake?” I asked.

The male shrugged. “He will be fine.”

With some difficulty (it must be said, my husband was bulky), I pulled Aramus’s torso up and held him to me as I kept my gaze pinned on the mermale.

“Why did you send the tidal?”

“You were coming to us, were you not?” he asked.

I did not request to know how he knew this.

“I was,” I amended. “My husband was not.”

“But I wished to speak to the king of the sea.”

“Well, you can’t speak to him if he’s unconscious,” I pointed out.

“Settle, maid,” he rumbled. “You are amongst your own here.”

“I thought he was dead,” I spat, hearing my husband breathe steadily, feeling the warmth return to his skin now that he was no longer in the chill of the sea, neither of these wiping away the fear and misery of the last ten minutes.

“Did you think to come and demand an audience, and aid in correcting the ruin you made of the surface, at your whim?” he asked.

Belatedly, important things were dawning on me.

Starting with the fact he knew much that I did not understand how he knew.

But onward from that, and the priority in the moment, something else.

Thus, I adjusted my tone when I noted, “I see you’re angry with me.”

“You?” he returned. “No. Him?” He jerked his trident toward my husband. “Yes.”

Oh no.

I held Aramus closer.

“He knows I am Mer, and he accepts this,” I shared.

“Bully for him,” he clipped.

Hmm.

I decided to begin again.

“You know I am Ha-Lah, Queen of Mar-el. But I do not know you.”