To distract myself, I focus on my surroundings. The white walls dance with the strange patterns the water makes. “This place is beautiful.” I forget for a minute that this beauty represents everything I despise about the king. Right now I’m able to let go of some of my hate.

“If you think this is beautiful, you should see the pool at my official headquarters.”

“Is that an offer?” I joke, still staring at the beautiful light that dances above us.

“It is.”

My gaze snaps back to the king. “You should seriously leave the lying for the cameras,” I say.

We move into deeper water. “I’m not lying,” he says, his eyes trained on me.

I blink at him. He’s serious. “Why would you invite me?” I ask.

“Because I enjoy your company.” His statement is proof that he’s out of his mind. I’ve been nothing but mean and malicious to him.

“I hate you, remember?” With all the alcohol thrumming through my system, I can’t put emotion behind the words.

“I’m starting to think you don’t, though.” His eyes laugh at me.

I push myself out of his arms, enjoying the way the water ripples over my skin. I do hate the king, just not right now. In the morning I will.

I hope.

I swim over to where the wine bottle sits. “I think I need more alcohol for this conversation.” I’m actually feeling plenty buzzed as it is, but I do need to change the subject before the king corners me into agreeing to the visit.

Just as I reach for the bottle, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I jolt at the sight of King Lazuli. I hadn’t heard him swim up next to me.

He grabs the wine bottle and moves it out of my reach. “I think you’ve had enough for now, Serenity.” I shiver at the way he says my name. “Me on the other hand …” He flashes me a wicked smile before he tips the bottle back and takes a drink from it.

My abs clench at the sight of him. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was feeling lustful. He sets the bottle down, and when his eyes meet mine, heat pools low in my stomach.

“Let’s play a game,” I say quickly. He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll ask you a question, and you can choose to answer it, but if you decide not to, you’re going to have to take a sip of wine.” That’ll loosen his lips.

The grin he gives me is full of mischief. “I’ll play your little game, but only if I’m allowed to ask questions as well.”

I nod. “Okay.” I can live with that. “I’ll start you off with an easy one: what’s your favorite color?”

“Blue. What’s yours?” he asks.