Chapter 176
The man standing in the doorway is eerily familiar. Khale.
His sharp features, long indigo hair, and piercing blue eyes remind me so much of Khale that my stomach churns. But where Khale’s gaze holds a quiet strength and warmth, this man’s eyes are cold, calculating, and entirely devoid of empathy. His presence fills the room with an unsettling authority, and I can’t help but feel a creeping unease as his gaze lingers on me, as though dissecting me piece by piece.
Before I can say anything, his form begins to shift. I’ve seen transformations before, but this is unlike anything I’ve witnessed. His tail recedes, giving way to strong, tan legs that look as though they’ve spent years climbing cliffs and running through forests, though it’s highly doubtful this Enkian male has ever even considered doing either.
His gills remain, fluttering faintly at the sides of his neck. Fins protrude slightly from his forearms, their edges sharp and glistening. His claws stay intact, glinting faintly in the dim light of the room. A versatile loincloth made of woven ferns and pearls drapes around his hips.
I briefly wonder if I can do the same, but as I’m currently wearing nothing but a bikini top and my scales, now isn’t the time for experimentation. Still, I can’t imagine the control it must take to pull something like that off. The thought stays with me longer than I’d like, but I force it aside as his cold gaze fixes on me again.
The man’s voice is smooth and commanding as he finally speaks, cutting through the heavy silence of the room. “Excuse my mother,” he says, gesturing toward the woman curled up in the alcove. “She’s… unwell and requires a great deal of close care.”
I straighten, narrowing my eyes. “Is that why she’s locked in a tower?” I ask, the words slipping out before I can stop myself. My voice is sharper than intended, but his presence is grating, pulling at every nerve.
He glances at the barred window, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “This is the best view in all the city,” he replies coolly as if that’s justification enough.
Cora steps forward, her sharp gaze fixed on him. Her posture is rigid, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I want to be sure I heard you correctly,” she says, her tone laced with suspicion. “Did you call her your mother?”
For a moment, the man doesn’t respond. His focus shifts back to me, his gaze dragging deliberately along my form before he finally looks at Cora. His lips curl into a slow, mocking smile. He places a hand on his chest and gives a small, theatrical bow. “That is correct,” he says smoothly. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kota, Crown Prince of Ao. You may call me Highness.”
Cora’s expression hardens, and she steps closer, her movements deliberate and forceful. “Then that means you’re one of Khale’s brothers.”
Kota’s smile grows, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He stares at her intently, as though weighing her words, before straightening. “Indeed,” he says, the word dripping with amusement. “Dear Khale is my half-brother, though we have little else in common.”
“Where is he?” Cora demands, her voice sharp and unyielding.
Kota tilts his head slightly, feigning thought. “I assume he is having a long and meaningful talk with my father, the King, right about now,” he says casually. “Afterward, I expect he’ll join your Abyssinian friend.”
My stomach twists at his nonchalant tone, my hands clenching at my sides. “Where?” I demand, stepping forward. “Where are they?”
Kota’s cold gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, the room feels even heavier. He doesn’t answer immediately, instead studying me with unnerving intensity. Finally, he speaks, his tone smooth and dismissive. “What you should be worrying about now is getting ready for dinner.”
I blink. “Dinner?” I repeat, incredulous.
His smirk turns lascivious as he steps closer, brushing his thumb along my jaw. The touch is startling, sending an unpleasant shiver down my spine. I jerk back instinctively, the motion sharp and defensive. Kota’s smile widens, his amusement evident.
“It’s been a long time since foreign delegates graced our fair city,” he says. “My father is eager to meet you.”
Cora scoffs, crossing her arms. “So this is a political meeting?”
“Aren’t all banquets between aristocrats?” Kota quips, his tone light but dripping with sarcasm.
Cora’s eyes narrow, her expression turning icy. “Then I would expect to be treated with a little more respect, not like some common criminal.”
Kota’s eyes widen slightly, his expression one of mock surprise. “Have I not housed you in a suite fit for the Queen herself?” he asks, his tone exaggeratedly polite.
“Missing half our party,” I snap, unable to hold back.
Kota’s gaze sharpens, his amusement fading for a moment. “We share no love for the Abyssinians,” he says bluntly. “Of that, I will not lie. And as for my dear half-brother who… uncommon as he may be, is most assuredly a criminal, in Ao at least.”
“But—” I start, but Cora’s hand on my arm stops me. She shakes her head, her mouth set in a tense line.
“Don’t bother, Phoebe,” she says quietly. “It’s their city, their rules.”
Kota’s smile returns, smug and mocking. “Very well put,” he says, giving another small, mocking bow. When he rises, he nods to the guards. They immediately move toward the sleeping woman, the glowing torque in their hands.
Cora and I step forward instinctively, ready to intervene, but Kota raises a hand. “I wouldn’t,” he says smoothly. “She can be quite… violent without her medicine.”
We watch helplessly as the guards secure the torque around the woman’s neck. She stirs groggily, her movements sluggish, and the guards inject her with something that makes her slump back into unconsciousness. Once the task is done, they return to stand obediently at Kota’s side.
Kota’s gaze lingers on me again, his cold blue eyes dragging along the length of my siren body. “Someone will be up to fetch you when your banquet is ready,” he says, his tone almost flippant. Two guards step forward, handing silken bags to both Cora and me.
“And please,” Kota adds, his gaze flicking to my tail. “No tails. We’re a civilized people here in Ao.”
With that, he turns on his heel and strides out of the room, his retinue trailing after him like shadows. The room feels colder in his absence, and the weight of his presence lingers long after he’s gone.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
