The palace of Thalassar was bathed in a soft bluish glow filtering down from the surface, illuminating the corals and crystal columns that adorned the corridors. Gentle currents made the algae and suspended pearls drift slowly, creating a sense of calm and fluidity. Nerion Thalassar swam through the hallways, his iridescent tail moving with elegance, though each stroke felt forced: the thought of going to solid ground filled him with tension. The coming-of-age celebration was not optional; he had to attend and demonstrate his kingdom’s presence.

In his chamber, resting on a mother-of-pearl surface, lay his formal attire: white, with fine golden embroidery that highlighted every line of its impeccable cut. Nerion studied it, aware that walking on human legs would be uncomfortable, and that his gestures would have to be measured with precision.

“You’re still hesitating,” said a soft voice behind him.

Thessia, his third sister, floated closer with her book in hand. Her curiosity was evident, yet there was a gentle warmth in her eyes.

“It’s not hesitation,” Nerion replied, his voice deep and calm. “It’s reflection.”

“Reflecting too much will only slow you down,” Thessia countered. “The suit is beautiful, but I can’t imagine how it will feel to walk on land.”

“I know,” Nerion accepted. “But I have to do it.”

As he adjusted the outfit, a loud thud echoed from the corridor. It was Orryn, his second younger brother, the family’s military-minded sibling. His powerful tail moved the water firmly as he approached.

“Stop overthinking,” he said bluntly. “This isn’t a battle. It’s just a hall full of human guests and princes from other kingdoms.”

“Some battles aren’t fought with weapons,” Nerion replied. “This is one of them.”

The main hall of the terrestrial palace was lit by large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, their light reflecting on the polished marble and the crystal glasses held by the guests. The strings music filled the air, marking an elegant rhythm while nobles conversed, evaluated, and observed. Every gesture, every glance, every smile carried weight: alliances could be sealed with a mere bow or courteous greeting, and the princes were the center of attention, each showcasing their lineage and bearing.

Aeryon Drakensyl stood by one of the tall windows, observing with the intensity one gives to an ancient relic. His posture was flawless, upright, the serious and calculated presence he always carried. He did not participate in the party’s bustle, yet his mere presence made others feel scrutinized.

Alaric Fenrath, in contrast, moved between small groups of guests with ease and energy. His clear laughter broke the hall’s formality, and his large gestures drew attention effortlessly. His amber eyes sparkled with curiosity and challenge, and while some feared his impulsiveness, others were drawn to his vitality.

You tried to make your way forward through the crowd. Having been brought to the party against your will, each step felt like an effort to maintain composure. The noise, music, and inquisitive glances from nobles overwhelmed you, and all you wanted was a quieter spot.

Then it happened: a collision.

A light shoulder bump made you stop, and when you looked up, you met Nerion Thalassar. The prince wore an impeccable white suit with golden embroidery highlighting every line of the jacket and cuffs. The fabric, perfectly fitted, emphasized his elegant bearing, though his posture betrayed that he was still not entirely comfortable with human legs.

His sky-blue hair fell over his shoulders, shining under the warm chandelier light, and his blue eyes locked onto yours with intensity. It was a direct, calm, and steady gaze, seeming to assess every detail without words.

The party’s bustle continued around you, but in that instant, everything seemed to stop for both. Neither moved at first.

“You walk without looking,” Nerion said in a deep, serious voice, free of reproach, merely observation.

You were taken aback. The sentence was simple, yet the calm certainty in Nerion’s tone forced you to freeze, feeling the prince’s attention pierce through you unexpectedly.