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The Grand Throne Room of Caelumaris shimmered with an ethereal light. Bioluminescent coral pulsed with a soft, rhythmic glow along the vaulted ceiling, casting rippling patterns across walls carved from ancient stone and living reef. Jellyfish lanterns drifted in the gentle currents overhead, their long tendrils trailing phosphorescent blue and green. The architecture was a masterful blend of natural formations and elegant, sculpted columns, each a testament to centuries of merfolk craftsmanship. The air, thick with the pressure of the deep, hummed with a silent, expectant energy. The only sound was the faint, chiming echo of water moving through the vast chamber, a constant reminder of the ocean that was both their kingdom and their cage.

Princess Coralina stood beside her father at the Altar of the Deep. The massive structure was carved from a single piece of crimson coral that had witnessed countless royal ceremonies. She wore ceremonial pearls that hung heavy around her neck, a physical manifestation of the burden on her soul. Her gown of shimmering silks caught the light with every subtle movement of the water, a garment that should have made her feel beautiful. Instead, it felt like a constraint, each thread a tie to a future she did not want.

King Theron stood rigid beside her, his silver crown catching the bioluminescent glow. His face was a stern mask, carved from years of duty and the difficult decisions that came with ruling. He did not look at her, yet she felt the immensity of his expectations pressing down on her like the ocean depths themselves. His presence was a silent, unyielding demand for her compliance.

Across the altar, Prince Caspian waited with dutiful calm. He was handsome in the traditional sense, his features symmetrical and strong, his posture perfect. His ceremonial armor gleamed, polished to a flawless mirror finish for this moment. When their eyes met, he offered a small, polite nod. It was a gesture of acknowledgment, nothing more. There was no warmth in his gaze, no affection, just a quiet acceptance of the role they were both required to play. He was another piece in a political game, a respectable and honorable partner in a union devoid of love.

The court surrounded them in concentric circles, hundreds of merfolk in their finest attire. Nobles from every corner of the kingdom had gathered to witness this union. Ministers and generals, ladies and courtiers, all watched with eager anticipation. This marriage would secure a crucial alliance with the Eastern Reaches, strengthening their borders against encroaching territorial disputes. It would, they all believed, ensure peace for their generation.

Coralina understood all of this. She had been told since childhood that her life was not her own, that royal blood carried a profound responsibility. She had accepted it, or thought she had, until this very moment, standing before the altar that would seal her fate. The vows felt less like a promise and more like a sentence.

The High Priest of the Tides approached, his robes flowing around him like living water. He carried the ceremonial trident, its three prongs representing duty, unity, and sacrifice. His voice would soon fill the chamber with ancient words, binding her to Caspian for eternity.

Her hands trembled. She clasped them together, trying to still the shaking, but the tremor only grew worse. A strange energy coursed through her veins, something wild and untamed that had been building for weeks. Her hydrokinetic abilities had always been strong, stronger than most in the royal line, but lately they felt different. Volatile. Dangerous.

King Theron glanced at her, just once. His eyes were hard, unyielding. It was a silent reminder. You know your duty. Do not fail me. Do not fail your kingdom.

She wanted to scream that she had already failed herself, that she had been failing for five years, every day that passed without him.

No. She could not think of him. Not now. Not here.

But the memory came anyway, unbidden and powerful. A hidden cove where the sea met the shore. Sunlight filtering through shallow water, warming her skin. A boy with kind eyes and a gentle smile, reaching down to touch the surface, reaching for her.

I will find you again. No matter what it takes.

The promise echoed through her mind, as fresh as the day he had spoken it. Five years had passed, but the words had not faded. Neither had her feelings.

Coralina looked at Caspian again. He was everything a princess should want in a husband. Strong, honorable, politically astute. He would treat her with respect, would give her children, would rule beside her father with wisdom.

He was not William.

The thought struck her with the force of a physical blow, and with it came a surge of power she could not control. The water around the altar began to swirl, subtle at first, then growing stronger. Several courtiers exchanged worried glances. The jellyfish lanterns began to move in erratic patterns, their light flickering.

Caspian noticed her distress. His expression shifted, a flicker of concern crossing his features. He tilted his head slightly, a silent question. Are you well?

She could not answer. She could not offer any reassurance. Because she was not well, had not been well for five years, and she was beginning to realize that she could not go through with this.

The High Priest began his approach, his aged face solemn with the gravity of the ceremony. In moments, he would speak the words that would begin her binding. In moments, she would be expected to respond, to pledge herself to duty and tradition and a future that felt like drowning.

The trembling in her hands spread to her arms, her shoulders, her entire body. The wild energy inside her built and built, pressing against the confines of her control like a storm seeking release.

I will find you again.

The promise. The memory. The only moment in her life when she had felt truly, completely free.

Suddenly, Coralina knew with absolute certainty that she could not speak the vows. She could not cage herself in this marriage. She could not spend the rest of her life wondering what might have been.

The High Priest reached the altar. He raised the ceremonial trident.

And Coralina’s world began to fracture.