I looked down at my sister, who had grabbed onto the fishing net as an anchor. I kicked at her hand with my free foot, confused and angry, but she refused to let go. With my lungs burning, I reached down to pry her hand away, and that was when I realized she wasn’t holding on to the net, not on purpose. A large hook had caught itself in her tunic. She was clinging to me for help.

The look of fear on her face spurred me into action. I grabbed onto the net and pulled myself down, then began tearing at the fabric of her tunic. Zadie was starting to panic, which made it nearly impossible to stay calm myself. But I knew if I didn’t, I’d run out of air, and we’d both drown. I managed to reach the shucking knife strapped to my ankle and slashed at the net, freeing Zadie. In her rush to escape, she pushed me backward. Directly into the blood coral.

I had never felt anything like it, not even when I touched the hot handle of a pan as a child and my palm had sizzled and blistered. The pain as my face made contact with the rough surface of the coral literally blinded me. What started out as a stabbing sensation in my cheek immediately radiated across my face, down my neck, and into my chest. I gasped without thinking, inhaling a lungful of seawater. I don’t remember what happened after that, but Zadie told me later that she sent Sami down for me as soon as she reached the surface, knowing he could get to me far faster than she could.

I sputtered back into consciousness in the boat, after Sami had pumped the water from my chest. The scream that tore from my throat was so loud he nearly toppled over backward. Zadie was next to me, sobbing, apologizing, but I registered nothing except the throbbing pain spreading from my cheek throughout my entire body. I was unconscious again by the time we made it home and remained that way for two days.

Life was never the same after that incident so many years ago. Mother kept me inside for weeks after, until the wound had scabbed over and the pink skin underneath had emerged. She grew even more protective of us, and Zadie became subdued and cautious.

As for me, I both lost and gained something that day. At first, the scar was a source of shame. But I was coming to realize that beauty—at least as defined by my people—was more of a burden than a gift. To one of us, it offered the chance to leave Varenia, but was that really freedom if we didn’t get to choose it for ourselves?

I knew what Zadie would say if anyone had bothered to ask her.

As the memory of the incident faded, I grabbed the oyster just a few inches from me and rose to the surface. That was when I heard the screaming.

      4

“Nor!”

I turned toward the sound of Zadie’s voice. She was spinning in fast circles, her eyes darting in every direction.

“What is it?” I asked, already churning through the water toward her.

“It’s a maiden’s hair jelly! Thalos, it’s everywhere!”

“Don’t move,” I called. “Just stay where you are.”

Maiden’s hair jellyfish were some of the most dangerous in the ocean, but they usually only came to the surface at night. They were easy to avoid then, thanks to the soft blue glow they emitted, but in the sun their bodies blended in with the water around them.

“Stop!” Zadie shrieked. “Look.”

It was a small maiden’s hair, at least. The bell was only about two feet in diameter, a near-translucent blob floating on the surface a few feet from Zadie. Long tentacles, as fine as the hair for which it was named, trailed around it. I couldn’t imagine it coming to the surface unless it was dead, but even a dead jelly could still be dangerous. I ducked under the surface to see the extent of the tentacles. They were drifting in the current away from both of us.

I sighed in relief. “Swim backward,” I told Zadie. “It will be okay.”

Zadie did as I said, and I swam backward as well, until we were well clear of the jellyfish. By the time we made it back to the boat, we were both exhausted.

“Are you all right?” I asked, reaching for her hand.

“I’m fine. I know I overreacted. I just came up a few feet away from it, and it scared me. I thought...”

That you would be scarred. “It’s all right. I did tell you to scream if you needed me,” I teased.

We hauled ourselves over the side of the boat and flopped into the bottom, the rush of fear slowly draining from us. I kicked at the three oysters I’d collected with a limp foot. “Should we call it a day?”

“I didn’t find anything.”

“You found the clam. Mother can use the silk on the gloves she’s making you.” Weaving sea silk was one of the few manual tasks our mother performed. The strands of silk, harvested from the beards of a particular species of clam, were brown in the water, but when specially treated, they turned golden in the sunlight.

“So I found something that only benefits me? That’s hardly a contribution to the family.” Sami had offered to trade anything Mother made with sea silk at the port—its rarity made it even more valuable than the pearls in some circles—but Mother refused. Unlike the blood coral and pearls, which existed because of Ilara and Prince Laef and all the Varenians who followed, sea silk was a gift from the sea, and therefore could only be gifted to another, not sold.

I handed Zadie the smallest oyster. “Here, this can be yours.”

We tucked the oysters under the shade of the bench to keep them from spoiling, but as soon as we got home, I eagerly shucked the largest oyster I’d found near the blood coral. Zadie and I both gasped when we saw the row of five pearls inside the shell, all a vibrant pink.

“They’re beautiful,” Zadie said. “Some of the best I’ve seen in years.” She reached for the shell and paused. “It must have been very close to the blood coral.”

I shrugged. “I was careful.”

“Nor.” She touched her own cheek without realizing. I knew she still felt guilty for the incident, though I had spent months afterward assuring her that it wasn’t her fault.

“It doesn’t matter now, Zadie. You’ve been chosen. You’re...” I cut myself off. I’d promised not to talk about Ilara. I forced a smile. “My beauty, or lack thereof, is no longer a concern—of mine or Mother’s and certainly not yours. I can get as ugly as I like now.”

“Jovani might feel differently,” she said with a laugh.

“Yes, well, I’ll have to make sure we have a speedy courtship, then, won’t I?”

She smiled. “Mother would be thrilled to have both daughters engaged before their eighteenth birthdays.”

Zadie had no idea how close to the truth she was. But perhaps my fate wasn’t sealed yet. Maybe there was still a chance Mother and Father would understand if I told them I didn’t want to marry Sami.

I left the pearls in their shell and dropped the oyster meat into a bowl for Father. “And where do you suppose our loving mother is at this hour?”

“She told me before we left that she and Father had business with Governor Kristos this afternoon.”

I nearly spilled the sack of grain I was struggling to lift. “Did she say what kind of business?”

“No. I assume it has to do with the preparations for my journey. The envoy from Ilara will be here in—”

“Six days. I know.”

Zadie unbraided her hair and began running her fingers through the strands. “Sami said my cloak is nearly finished. He’s supposed to give it to me tonight.”

I studied her face for a moment. Did she know? Was she waiting for me to say something first? “I thought we said it would be just us today.”

Her eyes dropped to her bare feet. I was just a little finger’s breadth taller than her, but my feet were nearly a knuckle longer. There were other small differences between us as well, not just the scar, although that was the one everyone noticed first. Sami had been the one to point out my larger feet when we were twelve years old and still allowed to sleep together while our parents stayed up late, talking.

He’d leaped up and compared us, part by part, with only the moon to light his observations. “Nor’s eyes are narrower than Zadie’s,” he’d said. “And Zadie’s nostrils are rounder.” He rubbed his chin and let his eyes travel down to our torsos. We weren’t women yet, so he didn’t linger long. “Nor has knobbier knees than Zadie,” he added, and before he knew what had hit him, one of my too-long feet shot out and caught him right between the legs. He didn’t make the mistake of mentioning my knees again.

It wasn’t just that I didn’t appreciate being scrutinized by my best friend; I got that enough from Mother. But being compared to my twin was always complicated. Sometimes when we were small, other children would whisper to me that I was the prettier twin, with a conspiratorial grin. The same thing had happened to Zadie. And while it was impossible not to feel a small flutter of pride in the moment—beauty was always on our minds, even then—I always felt defensive on Zadie’s behalf. Because if I were prettier, it meant she was uglier, and a compliment at my sister’s expense was no compliment at all. I didn’t want to hear about my beauty in relation to Zadie’s, or anyone else’s for that matter. I wanted to be seen for me.

“It’s fine,” I said finally. “Sami is family. Of course he can come over tonight.”