I squeeze his hands as we climb higher and higher.
“The palace is… beautiful,” I whisper. Iridescent blue, narrow and tall, all turrets and balconies, it blossoms out of the hill.
From up here, I can see the lands surrounding the lake—mostly flats with a few trees and what looks like more lakes and more villages built on their shores.
“Your people really like water.”
“Surprised?” He chuckles. “We are Merfolk. It is our second nature. Our second element.”
“I wish I could be like you.”
He stops, takes my face in his hands. “If you marry me, you can.”
“Really?”
“You will become Fae, and one of us. Crossing the gate has already changed you. Becoming my queen would seal the change. But you need to be sure because once done, the change is irreversible.”
“I want to be like you. I want to stay with you.”
His eyes shine so bright. “I love you, princess. More than I can ever tell you.”
Smiling, we go up to the palace. I stare up at its splendor, its elegance and fluid curves. It’s nothing like the palaces back home which are clunky, somber affairs. This palace looks like a work of art, like a part of the place. The towers rise toward the sky like branches, like flowers—and real flowers seem to be growing out of the walls, the windows, the balconies, climbing and winding around the palace, dressing it in bloom.
On top of the gate is the same crest he bears on the inside of his wrist—the fish and the crown.
“Welcome to the Opal Tower,” Adar whispers, lifting my hand and kissing it. “My lady.”
“Thank you, my King.”
The blue-clad guards thump their spears on the ground and bow low, letting us inside. Together we step through the arched gate into a long hall. Courtiers and servants alike all stop and bow, murmuring “The King is back! The King is back!”
Inside, the palace is as light and bright as it is on the outside—walls of pale blue crystal, large windows with views of the lake and surrounding area, and flowers. Pots with flowers.
I stop to examine a tall purple flower growing in a pot set in the wall. When I touch it, it moves, seeking my fingers and I gasp.
“It’s alive! Adar, it moves!”
“It likes your touch,” he says. “What about this one?” He points to a green ball at the end of a stem coming out of a crack in the wall. “Touch it.”
“Is this some trick?” I touch the plant, cautiously, and step back in shock when it unfurls and releases a cloud of white butterflies.
“They like to nest in it,” he explains, laughing, delighted at my reaction.
“I like it. I like plants and flowers,” I whisper.
“I know. It’s what brought you to my lake in the first place. We’ll have all the flowers you want. We’ll make new gardens. Build a bower and live among them.”
My eyes burn. “Adar…”
“What is the meaning of this?” a haughty voice says from behind us and turning I find a man—a Fae—who looks just enough like Adar to mark him as family. Of course, the crown on his head gives him away, too.
“Brother.” Adar’s grin fades and his voice grows sharp. “Well met.”
“What are you doing here?” his brother hisses. The crown is a bit too large for his head, I notice, and he has had it lined with fur. “You were supposed to be in the human world, you were—”
“Cursed. Yes, I know, Gadal. I present to you princess Selina of Kyrene who has broken the curse on me and therefore the kingdom.”
“She has?” Gadal turns his gaze on me. His eyes are a faded blue, very unlike Adar’s, and although he has the relentlessly perfect beauty of the Fae, his face is too angular and harsh to look beautiful to me.