Chapter 10Vera

Chapter 10

Vera

I took a sip from the sparkling purple and pink orb and sighed in pleasure. Cetius and I were in a clear, crystalline booth at one of the local “water bars,” which were exactly what they sounded like: places where they sold specialty water— still varieties, imported from all over the globe, as well as flavored and sparkling options, the fizziness coming naturally from the process of fermentation.

Much to my delight, there was an entire menu of freshwater choices. I was enjoying something sweet, fruity, and alcoholic. Amola fruit was a flavor I’d run into several times now while exploring the city with Cetius. It was sweet, tart, and almost creamy, reminiscent of pineapple mixed with strawberry yogurt.

After tasting it for the first time, I’d looked up the fruit when I got home and was shocked by its appearance. They were spikey and had a hard shell, almost reminding me of a naval mine. They most definitely didn’t look edible from the outside. Once cracked open, though, the flesh was reddish purple and very tasty.

“What are you having?” I asked Cetius.

My voice had started to come back sometime yesterday. It sounded weird to my ears underwater, soft and barely audible, but Cetius assured me that it would get stronger with use.

His orb was a murky creamy color and not particularly appetizing looking to me.

“It’s a brine imported from the planet’s only inland sea. This one’s seasoned with tiny, fermented fish. Want a taste?” He offered me the tube attached to the orb.

I took the tiniest of sips and almost gagged. It wasn’t even the fermented fish that got to me; it was how freaking salty it was. Considering I had gotten accustomed to being surrounded by and tasting salt water all the time, this stuff must be saltier than the Dead Sea. To make matters worse, it was bubbly. Salty fishy soda definitely did not play nicely with my taste buds. But Cetius seemed to enjoy it, and who was I to yuck his yum.

On second thought, it wasn’t entirely bad. The flavor was reminiscent of miso; it was just much too salty.

“How’d you like it?” He looked at me eagerly.

I decided to be honest. “It’s a bit too salty for me. But if it was diluted and warm, I think I would enjoy it as a broth.”

“Yes, the files did mention that humans couldn’t handle too much salt.” He pointed to a section of the menu printed on the table. “They sell that here. I’d always wondered why anyone would want their water flat, warm, and diluted.”

We both leaned back into our bubble to watch people pass by. We had quickly discovered that while neither of us was a particularly social animal, we both enjoyed people-watching.

We’d been spending so much time together it was sometimes easy to forget that this marriage was really all a sham. After licking me half to an orgasmic death when he was helping me apply the salve that first time, Cetius had repeated the spectacular performance again every “night” before bed. Except nothing more would happen, despite his trident-like cock thrusting out from his vent.

Was it because he didn’t know what to do with my legs? Or because we were on land in my room, not in the water in his?

Maybe he just preferred someone with a tail. My plain, fleshy gams probably weren’t much to look at, not compared to the gorgeous tails some of the mermaids…err, female Thalassonians…flaunted around town. Despite the allure of their iridescent tails, I understood now why Cetius wanted a fake wife to ward them off.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t wealthy enough. Quite the opposite. Until I’d arrived, he’d been considered one of the city’s most eligible bachelors. But it was clear that many of the females merely cared about his wealth and nothing else. When I’d asked him about it, because I wasn’t the type to beat around the sea grass, he’d showed me the proposal one of them had sent him.

It had started out by stipulating the exact allowance she should be given on a lunar basis, went on to detail the type of house he’d need to purchase (for her exclusive use), and ended with the number of spawn she would provide him with before she’d fraternize with other males again for the sake of genetic diversification. There was a note at the bottom that all of this was only provided they weren’t true mates. It didn’t sound anything like a marriage to me and everything like a business contract.

Technically, what we had through Starlight Brides was all business as well, but not to this extent. In comparison to the structured trade-by-trade way everything was outlined in her proposed contract, the way Cetius and I met was almost “organic.”

We’d spent the last few days exploring the city, most likely because his grandsire had forbidden Cetius from going to work. Cetion was not kidding about us needing to start on those great-grandspawn for him stat. I found out from the forums that humans and Thalassonians didn’t really need help conceiving, though it took several months, sometimes even years, of dedicated attempts for it to happen.

I liked the older triton; he was well-traveled, and I loved listening to all his stories. He didn’t act one bit entitled to his wealth, most likely because he’d built it all himself through hard work and real labor. He loved his family deeply and had stepped up after the war so that Cetius and his siblings would have more stability after losing both their mother and sire.

Cetion had lost his own mate to the chemicals, but the fact that his grandchildren needed him kept him here. I could see how much he missed his wife when he talked about her, though. He was a good male, both by Thalassonian and human standards.

I started to feel kind of badly about this whole sham marriage thing. It felt like we were lying to both him and Cetia. What would they think if they knew I only planned to stay for one year?

Cetia came to my room every day before Cetius took me out around town so she could decorate my hair with fresh clippings from the garden. She really did enjoy having female company. I’d gotten to know her a little more, and it was clear that she was the equivalent of a college-aged young woman, just coming into her own, still unsure what she wanted to do with life.

She was smart and clearly had a good head on her shoulders. She had lofty goals for the future of Ebb Tide Trading, and had taken all the right courses to ensure she knew how to make that happen. Cetion was thrilled that his granddaughter had taken such an interest in the company.

I sure hoped she wouldn’t turn out like some of the other females. I wanted her to be comfortable in life and not have to worry about money, of course, but I also didn’t want her to think only about wealth. It seemed like such a sad and shallow existence, not to mention loveless.

That had me thinking of me and Cetius again. Could I love him? I really enjoyed our time together. Would it really be so bad to stay here, pop out a few tailed babies, and continue living a pampered life under the sea?

My musings were interrupted by a ping on Cetius’s conch device. The message had him smiling.

“We’re in!”

“In what?” I asked.

“Remember the tropical island getaway? The resort has a strict visitor cutoff point, since they don’t want it to be overcrowded. Someone just canceled, so they have room for us.”

“Ooh! Yay!” I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to see the sun!

It had been ten days without real, honest-to-goodness sunlight. The only reason I knew it was that long was we’d had ten full sleeps. In Coral’s Deep, the ambient light rarely fluctuated, and I’d come to learn there wasn’t a set night and day per se.

The residents living here seemed to choose their own waking hours, which meant the larger businesses were open all the time, while the smaller businesses only opened at certain hours. It was totally possible to live next to someone your whole life but never see them because you kept opposite schedules.

Some people switched their sleep times around every so often so they could visit all the places they didn’t normally go. It was like having two cities in one.

Some, like Cetia, practiced bi-phasic sleeping. This meant they cut the planetary day into two separate chunks, sleeping and waking twice. It was a common sleeping pattern for both younger Thalassonians and the elderly.

I was beginning to think it was a good idea. I usually couldn’t stay awake all “day” and had to take a nap in the “afternoon.” The days on Aquaria were much too long for my Earthly circadian rhythm, which was kind of shot anyway without sunlight.

“I read all about the plants on that island,” I said. “I’m excited to see them in person! Did you know there is a fern that lives in brackish water there that makes the fishes that eat it glow in the dark?”

“I did not.” He looked amused and intrigued. “What else is up there?”

I pressed my lips together, realizing I was about to geek out on plants in front of Cetius yet again. I wasn’t sure if he was genuinely interested, merely trying to be nice, or teasing me.

“I’m sorry. I probably bore you to death with all my plant stuff.”

“No, not at all. It’s…refreshing.”

This from a guy who found drinking super salty, fishy drinks refreshing . I narrowed my eyes at him.

“What? It’s true.” He tossed an arm around me and pulled me close. “You’re talking to someone who transplanted all the plants he found in his travels to the garden in his home simply because he found them pretty. I don’t know anything else about them. I think it’s great that you see these plants for more than their decorative uses.”

“You know, before our year is up, I think you should take me to some of these places. I want to see these plants in their natural habitat.”

His expression brightened momentarily, only to be replaced by a frown that almost had me regretting asking.

“I am not sure that is possible. You are delicate. I don’t know if you can survive out there.”

Oh. Right. I remembered being so scared of that reef selach on our initial trip down. Apparently, that had been a tiny one. Maybe exploring the ocean with my triton husband wouldn’t happen after all.

I was pulled from my disappointment when a clawed hand landed on our table.

“Cetius.” The mermaid’s voice grated against my ears. Let’s just say, a siren’s song it was not.

(I knew they didn’t call themselves mermen or mermaids, but I couldn’t help but refer to them as such in my head.)

In contrast to her rough voice, the female’s form was utter perfection. Slim and modelesque, with just enough breasts and hips to differentiate her from the male of her species. Her scales shimmered with gold and green, and her features were almost ethereal.

“Well, well. I heard you were gallivanting around town with an ugly two-legged creature, but I scarcely believed it.”

“Go bother my brother, Nerial.”

“I just did. He sent me to you.”

That name sounded familiar. I raised a brow at Cetius. Realizing that the female wasn’t going to leave so easily, he sighed and introduced us.

“Nerial, this is my bride Vera. Vera, Nerial. She’s contracted to my brother, but they are not officially married yet.”

That jogged my memory. This was the female who had sent him the itemized proposal! I guess after Cetius turned her down, she’d talked to his brother, and the sucker had gone for it.

Since I didn’t have a tail, I stuck out my leg in greeting. She looked at it, then pointedly ignored it.

Yep. She was a bitch. I decided right then and there I didn’t like her.

“Algrim and I just signed for a top-level luxury condo in the heart of the city. Did you know that old killjoy you call grandsire wouldn’t let me move into the family home? And all because I wanted it redecorated to my tastes.” She sighed dramatically. “Doesn’t he know I get to do whatever I want with it when he finally croaks?” She eyed me disdainfully. “I should’ve known you’d go to Starlight Brides. I bet she was a lot cheaper. You always were all about reducing costs and maximizing profits. I’m not surprised the old curmudgeon left the business to you.”

When Cetius didn’t react, she turned to me, smiling predatorily. “You poor thing,” she tutted. “Cetius didn’t even give you a proper celebration. Just an e-signature. How sad.”

And then she was off, swishing her tail like the ocean itself owed her simply for being alive.