"Sometimes, the crown feels heavier when you're not wearing it at all."
Prince Kael hated the palace most when it sparkled.
Gilded banners fluttered above the rooftops, and the scent of rosewater filled the halls like a perfume too thick to breathe. Outside the throne room, nobles paraded in silks and stiff smiles, whispering about alliances, dowries, and his upcoming coronation.
Inside, Kael stood silent beside his father's empty throne, the crown a looming ghost waiting to be placed on his head. He could already feel the weight of it pressing down on his thoughts.
He didn't want it.
Not like this.
The moment the courtiers turned their backs, Kael slipped through a servant's corridor and out into the palace gardens. His steps quickened, then broke into a sprint as he cleared the stone archway and vanished down a rarely used path that wound toward the cliffs.
He didn't stop until the wind tasted of salt and the sea roared in his ears.
The cliffs stood high and jagged over the churning waves, untouched by the palace's manicured order. Here, everything was wild and restless—just like the thoughts in Kael's mind.
He dropped to his knees in the tall grass and breathed deeply, letting the wind whip his cloak and tangle his hair. For the first time in days, he felt his heart beat for himself.
And that's when he saw her.
She was perched on a jagged rock just offshore, half-hidden by the rising mist.
A shimmer of green and silver caught the dying sunlight—scales. Her tail curled lazily behind her, sleek and otherworldly. Her back was to him, wet hair cascading down her spine like riverweed spun in moonlight.
Kael froze.
A mermaid.
Real.
Alive.
She turned slowly, as if sensing the weight of his stare.
Their eyes met.
Kael's breath caught in his throat. Her irises were an unnatural green, with thin slits of gold at their center—reptilian and intelligent. Her expression was unreadable, but not unkind.
He stepped forward without thinking, boots crunching the damp rock beneath him.
"Are you real?" he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.
Her gaze lingered on him for a long beat. Then, her lips parted in a small, bemused smile. "That's a strange question for someone who's clearly real themselves."
Kael blinked. "I just… I've never seen—"
"I know what you've never seen," she cut in, her tone unreadable. "And most days, I like it that way."
He swallowed, caught between awe and uncertainty. "I didn't mean to intrude."
"Yet here you are."
Her tail shifted beneath the surface with a fluid grace that made the water ripple around her.
Kael shifted uncomfortably. "I'm Kael. Prince of Aldareth."
Her expression barely flickered. "And I'm not interested in titles."
A long pause stretched between them.
"Lyra," she finally added. "That's my name. For now."
Kael frowned. "For now?"
She shrugged, casting her eyes to the horizon. "Names are like tides. They change."
The waves crashed against the rocks below as the sun dipped lower, staining the water red and gold. Neither of them spoke. The air felt brittle with tension—not hostile, but fragile, like something that might break if touched too quickly.
Kael studied her carefully. There was a guardedness in the set of her shoulders, in the way her hands disappeared beneath the waves. She was wild, yes—but not free. There was weight in her silence, a tether invisible but strong.
Lyra turned back to him suddenly. "What are you running from, Prince?"
Kael hesitated. "Who says I'm running?"
Her eyes narrowed just slightly. "You wear freedom like someone who doesn't know what it costs."
He didn't respond.
What could he say? That he was tired of being shaped into someone he didn't recognize? That every step in the palace echoed with someone else's voice?
Instead, he asked, "What about you? Are you hiding out here?"
Lyra gave a humorless laugh. "The sea doesn't let you hide. It swallows you or spits you out."
A long silence followed.
Then, she moved. Not toward him, but backward—tail slicing the water as she receded into the mist.
Kael stepped forward. "Wait."
She paused, just long enough to say, "Be careful, Kael. Not everything beautiful is safe."
And then she was gone, leaving only a churned trail in the sea.
Kael stood there, rooted.
Minutes passed. Maybe more.
Just as he turned to leave, her voice drifted faintly over the waves—dry, teasing, and unmistakably amused.
"Bored out of my scales."
A grin pulled at his lips.
Mystery had a name.
"Some tides don't turn back. They take you with them."