The Pearl Garden smelled amazing, and that made Roxy very happy because it didn't smell like fish anymore.
But that was the problem.
In the crushing, lightless depths of the Abyssal Trench, smell was the primary language. It was how predators found prey, how mates found partners, and how territories were marked.
The ocean usually contains a lot of things, but not Earth.
But for the last three days, Caspian's cave had been pumping out a cocktail of fragrances that had never existed in this ecosystem before.
Garlic. Butter. Caramelized sugar. Vanilla conditioner. Rose oil. Sandalwood.
It was a sensory overlord.
Roxy, blissfully unaware of the olfactory lighthouse she had created, was currently sitting cross-legged on the coral chair, counting her earnings.
"Fifty pearls," she murmured, dropping a luminous pearl into a black pouch. "Three jars of Sturgeon eggs. And a promise from Vespera to stab anyone who looks at me wrong. Not a bad week's work."
