Triton's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

The nobles bowed to Triton, and not one of them believed in him. He floated at the center of the throne hall, crowned heir of Atlantis, his father gone to Olympus and his mother watching from the dais. The old sea-lords pressed their hands to their chests. But Triton saw their eyes. He knew that look. It was the look they gave a drunk who had wandered into the wrong room. He wanted the throne. He wanted, for once, to be taken seriously. And he could already feel the hall deciding he never would be. One gray-bearded lord spoke without being asked. "The prince has a fine conch and a finer reputation for emptying wine casks," he said. A few others laughed behind their hands. Triton gripped the trumpet at his side, the one that could still storms. He opened his mouth to answer. Nothing worth saying came out. The lord had already turned his back to murmur with the others, as if the matter were closed. Triton swam from the hall before his mother could reach him. He did not stop until he found the quiet water behind the palace, where the glow coral dimmed and the currents went soft. Ren found him there an hour later. He wore his guard's shoulder plates, still on duty, and he carried two cups of kelp wine he should not have had. Ren had been assigned to wait on Triton since the day he made the Royal Guard. A peasant boy from a far village, he had earned his place by working harder than men born to it. No one knew what the prince and his guard had become to each other. They kept it buried deep. "You left before the toast," Ren said. He held out a cup. "They think I'm a joke." Triton took it. "They bowed and laughed in the same breath." Ren settled beside him. "Then stop giving them reasons." He said it gently, the way only he could. "Tomorrow you could prove them wrong." "Tomorrow." Triton drank. "Not tonight." They drank through the dark hours. The wine made the day smaller and the laughter quieter. Ren tried once more, soft, to turn him toward the morning. Triton waved it off and poured again. By the time the coral brightened, both cups lay empty on the sand, and Triton's head swam worse than any current. The horn came through the water before he understood it. A summons. The council had gathered at dawn, and the heir was expected. Triton rose too fast and swayed, his eyes red, the smell of wine thick on him. Ren grabbed his arm. "You can't go in like this," Ren said. But the doors of the throne hall were already opening. The nobles were already inside, already watching. And Triton swam toward them drunk, late, and exactly as they had expected.