The throne chamber of Submareth gleamed with cold fire.
Pillars carved of coral and obsidian stretched into the abyss, schools of silver fish scattering like sparks around them.
At its center, coiled upon her dais of pearl and bone, Thalassaria lounged in a posture that was both regal and predatory, her eyes fixed on Caedrion with the same possessive adoration as the day she had first claimed him.
He stood before her, not kneeling, not cowering, but with careful stillness, the posture of a man who had learned the art of balancing blades.
"My queen," he began, his voice even, though the weight of her gaze pressed down like the ocean itself.
"I have abided here. I have learned your ways, your history, your strength. And I do not deny that you have shown me a love as fierce as it is… unrelenting."
Her smile curled, sharp teeth flashing. "Unrelenting, yes. Because it is real."
He inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the truth of it.
