It shone like the full moon at midnight. It couldn’t possibly have been carved from a single pearl—not unless the oyster had been the size of a whale—but the smooth iridescent surface was utterly flawless, without hint of join or crack.
Though on first glance it appeared perfectly white, as she drew closer she began to see the secret, shifting hues gleaming where the light struck the polished curves. All the colors of the ocean lay hidden in those translucent depths. The warm turquoise of a tropical lagoon and the dark indigo of ice-covered seas; the golden glitter of sunlight on the surface and the electric green flash of phosphorescence in the deepest abyss.
Our Throne! her inner voice sang out, like a whole orchestra playing a single bone-shaking note of triumph. At last, at last, our Throne!
“Are you going to stand and gape like a codfish all day?” Neridia stumbled as the Knight-Commander’s shoved her roughly forward. “Go on. Sit.”
Neridia had been so mesmerized by the sight of the Pearl Throne, she’d entirely forgotten what they were here to do. Now all her doubts and fears came rushing back like a tsunami. How could she possibly plant her fat backside on that gleaming treasure?
It is ours, ours by birth and blood, her inner voice insisted. Claim it!
“I-I’m not ready,” she stuttered. “I need more time.”
The Knight-Commander made an impatient sound under his breath. Seizing her wrist, he started dragging her up the dais.
“No! I’m not ready, not yet!” Neridia twisted futilely, his steel gauntlet biting into her skin.
“You claim to be the Empress-in-Waiting?” he snarled. “Then prove it. This is the Pearl Throne, the seat of the Empire, the very heart of the sea! If you have a drop of power in your body, then this will call it out.”
“Please, let’s wait until John’s better,” she begged. “I can’t do this without him. And he’d want to be here.”
“I cannot allow the Knight-Poet to witness this moment.” Unceremoniously, the Knight-Commander dumped her onto the human-sized seat. “Now. Show me if you are truly a dragon.”
Instinctively, Neridia cringed back from the cold touch of the gleaming Throne. Surely she would be struck by lightning for daring to defile it with her mere human presence. She expected it to crack in half under her weight, for an earthquake to shake the palace, for Atlantis itself to come crashing down…
Instead, nothing happened.
Cautiously, Neridia uncurled. Now that she was sitting on it, she could feel the shallow depression worn into the ancient seat by long-dead Emperors and Empresses. Her hands rested where their hands had rested; her curves fit perfectly into the Throne’s, as though it had been carved for her personally.
And yet still, nothing happened.
No great rush of power; no dragon surging up from her soul. Just the hard Throne underneath her, slowly warming with her own body heat.
She had failed.
Her head jerked up at a loud, repeated metallic crash. The Knight-Commander was clapping, slowly and ironically.
“Well done,” he said. “Very well done indeed. You are absolutely, unmistakably, and utterly human. Nothing more.”
Dismay fought with relief in her heart. “So I’m not the Empress-in-Waiting?”
“Absolutely not.” To her astonishment, he went down on one knee. “You are the Empress.”
Neridia stared at him. Despite his posture, he didn’t look at all humbled. Every line of his body shouted triumph.
“I shall back your claim personally.” The Knight-Commander rose again, looming over her even though she sat on the Throne. “With the Master Shark gone, no one on the Sea Council will dare oppose me. We shall announce the good news to the whole city tomorrow. Though we should delay the coronation and your formal presentation until I have coached you-“
“Why?” Neridia interrupted.
She couldn’t see his eyes through the narrow slits in his helmet, but she was certain that he was shooting her a withering glare. “So that you don’t make an utter flounder of yourself in front of the entire city. We must convince them that you are appropriately Imperial, regardless of the fact that you cannot shift. The Crown Jewels will help, of course, but I must teach you how to comport yourself appropriately.”
“No, I mean, why are you helping me?” Neridia was half-certain this was all some elaborate trick, that he was just toying with her like a cat with a mouse. “I’m human! You can’t possibly want a human Empress.”
“On the contrary, a human Empress is precisely what I want.” His chest swelled with triumph. “A helpless human Empress, unable to wield the sea’s power. Unable to wield any power.”
“You want a puppet,” Neridia whispered.
“Come now. Let us put it more politely. A ceremonial figurehead to appease the sentimental masses who are still enamored by royalty. The one thing I needed to make my rule here absolute. You will sit on the Throne, but I will stand behind it.”