“I told you,” the Knight-Commander said through gritted fangs, “to be discreet. If that is what you consider being discreet, then sea help us all if you ever take it into your head to be obvious.”

Almost, John wished he was back facing the Master Shark. The megalodon’s teeth were far less pointed than his superior’s sarcasm. Fixing his eyes on a point somewhere above the Knight-Commander’s scaled shoulder, he endured.

“I wanted you to bring your mate here quietly, without anyone noticing.” The Knight-Commander swirled around the underwater audience chamber, his emerald eyes glowing with barely-contained anger. “And now all of Atlantis is in an uproar! Dragons are already composing poems about your poem! Everyone is agog to meet the female who inspired such a show of power! What in the sea possessed you?”

The harmonics made it clear it was a rhetorical question, so John held his tongue. Had his superior asked directly, he could have explained that it was not a matter of what had possessed him…but who.

It was her power, not mine. I merely provided the words to enact the Empress’s will.

His neck-ruff raised slightly, despite his efforts to maintain an appropriately contrite and solemn expression. He still felt half-drunk from the incredible surge of her soul through his.

Oh, my mate, my heart, my Empress. In my arrogance I thought I understood your glory. Now I know I have barely begun to sound your depths.

The moment of connection had lasted only a brief moment, but it had been long enough for them to drive back the Master Shark. Now their souls were parted again, like their bodies.

The Knight-Commander had insisted that John report to him immediately, in the fortified ziggurat that housed the headquarters of the Order of the First Water. Neridia, meanwhile, had been taken to the golden towers of the Imperial Palace, as was only appropriate. With the increased distance between them, the mate bond had returned to its usual tenuous link.

John was not certain whether he was sorry or grateful for that. Experiencing her true power had been like swimming in the very sun itself.

“Are you smiling, Knight-Poet?” the Knight-Commander demanded.

John hastily flattened his neck-ruff again. “No, sir.”

“Good, because there is nothing to smile about.” The Knight-Commander paused, his own expression turning more thoughtful. “Except for the fact that the Master Shark did indeed attack you.”

John blinked. “Sir?”

“Even though I cannot reveal the cause of his attack, I can still use it as leverage against him on the Sea Council.” The Knight-Commander tilted his head at the unmistakable bite-wounds on John’s flank. “It is good that you are clearly marked by his teeth. The Master Shark inexplicably flying into a murderous blood-frenzy, attacking the noble Walker-Above-Wave as he returned on a routine errand…yes, it is a story that the other Lords will find convincing. I will be able to oust the Master Shark from his seat on the Council at last.”

“Would it not be simpler to tell the Sea Council the full truth?” John ventured. “They will learn it anyway, when the Empress-in-Waiting claims her rightful place.”

The Knight-Commander gave him a long, penetrating look. “I am the Voice of the Emperor-in-Absence, Knight-Poet. I hold the safety of Atlantis in my claws. That means that I must plan for all eventualities. Including the possibility that your mate will not be able to take the Pearl Throne.”

Despite himself, John’s neck-ruff rippled again. “I assure you, sir, there is no risk of that.”

The Knight-Commander blew out his breath, a trail of bubbles rising from his jaws. “That remains to be seen. She still has not shifted.”

“I am confident that she will, sir. When she ascends the Pearl Throne, it will doubtless unlock her true form.”

The Knight-Commander rumbled deep in his chest, still looking unconvinced. “We shall see. But not immediately. I must calm both the city and the Sea Council before flinging yet another shockwave at them.”

John flexed his webbed feet, pushing himself off the mosaic floor. “As you command, sir. I shall ensure the Empress-in-Waiting remains out of sight.”

“No,” the Knight-Commander said firmly, blocking his path to the exit in the ceiling. “You shall keep yourself out of sight, Knight-Poet. If you go out into the city now, you will be mobbed.”

“A crowd cannot tear words from my throat,” John said, perhaps a shade too tartly. “I am capable of holding my silence, sir.”

The Knight-Commander’s eyes narrowed at his insolence. “I have seen no evidence of that, Knight-Poet. Need I remind you of your vow of obedience to me?”

John clenched his talons, fighting back the instincts that urged him to knock the other sea dragon aside and swim straight to his mate. “No, Knight-Commander. But-”

“Then you will remain here, in Order’s headquarters, until you can show your scales again without causing a riot.”

The Knight-Commander’s harsh, forceful notes brooked no argument. Though his blood seethed at being separated from Neridia, John’s honor prevented him from arguing further. He forced himself to bow his head respectfully.

The Knight-Commander’s melody smoothed a little at the show of deference. “I sympathize with your impatience, Knight-Poet. But this is for the best. Your mate must stay in the air-locked parts of the city, and your own wounds will heal faster in salt water. Stay, rest, and you will be ready to resume your duties as her bodyguard all the sooner.”

“May I ask who will guard the Empress-in-Waiting in my absence, sir?”

“You need not fear.” The Knight-Commander flowed up toward the door. “I shall deal with her personally.”