"You wish to form an alliance?" Ava asked, her brows arching elegantly, her tone laced with a mix of intrigue and skepticism.

King Caspian nodded, his movements unhurried as he mixed an amber-hued drink at the bar in his study. The faint clink of glass against glass punctuated the silence. The room itself was a testament to the Onyx Kingdom's strength—dark, imposing, and steeped in quiet luxury. Shelves lined with ancient tomes framed the space, and the faint glow of ethereal lights illuminated the intricate carvings on the obsidian walls.

"Surely you must have known this was my intention," Caspian said, his deep voice smooth as the drink he sipped. He extended a glass toward Ava in a polite gesture.

She declined with a subtle shake of her head, her sharp brown eyes never leaving his face. "A trade," she murmured, her words more observation than question.

Caspian nodded, swirling his drink absently. "Yes. Should your nation find itself in conflict, I will lend my forces—on the condition that it does not interfere with my existing alliances."

Ava tilted her head slightly, considering his words. "My kingdom is a peaceful one. Surely you know that," she said, her voice even, though her mind was already calculating the implications of his offer.

"I do," Caspian replied, his gaze meeting hers. There was a weight behind his words, an unwavering confidence that spoke of a man who understood the value of every move he made. "That is precisely why this alliance is a safe one to form. It benefits us both—peaceful trade in exchange for mutual security. Weapons for your kingdom's jewels and fine cloths."

Ava's lips pressed into a thin line as she mulled over his words. He was clever, astute, and unflinchingly direct—qualities she admired, though they put her on edge. This man was similar to her in many ways, and that made him unpredictable. Yet, even as she considered his offer, she couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that there was more to the Onyx Kingdom than met the eye.

There was something hidden behind these imposing walls—something Caspian wasn't revealing. And that secret, whatever it was, irked her to no end.

Her arms folded behind her back, her movements as fluid as the water around her as she glided to the large window overlooking the sprawling expanse of the Onyx Kingdom. The lights that adorned the city cast a hypnotic glow against the black stone, creating a scene that was both beautiful and foreboding.

"It's an intriguing offer," Ava murmured, turning back to face him. Her dark eyes were sharp, assessing, as they lingered on the man before her. She raised a single black brow, a silent challenge.

Caspian set his glass down with deliberate care, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. "I sense hesitation," he said, his tone edged with amusement.

Ava smiled sweetly, though the glint in her eyes was anything but innocent. She stepped closer, her fingers lightly brushing his broad shoulder as she moved past him, her touch as fleeting as a whisper. "Let me speak with my advisors," she murmured, her voice low, almost conspiratorial. "I'll have my answer for you after the wedding."

Caspian's dark eyes followed her every movement, his presence commanding even in stillness. "Don't take too long," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous timbre that sent a shiver down her spine.

Ava paused at the door, glancing back over her shoulder with a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "I won't," she said, her tone light, yet laced with an unspoken promise.

With that, she slipped out of the room, leaving Caspian alone in the dimly lit study. He picked up his glass once more, taking a slow sip as he stared after her retreating form.

Ava, meanwhile, glided down the dark corridors of the Onyx Palace, her mind already spinning with questions and strategies. She had no intention of rushing into an agreement without knowing every detail of what lay beneath Caspian's polished surface. Secrets had a way of surfacing, and she intended to uncover them all.

He's hiding something, she thought, her smirk deepening as she made her way back to her chambers. And when I find out what it is, the advantage will be mine.

******

He had grown up in the shadows, always just a step behind Ava, his Queen, his protector, his savior. She treated him not as a servant, not as the low-class orphan he had once been, but as something more—something precious. A son she had yet to have. And for that, Roni had given her his unwavering loyalty.

He became her eyes and ears in the kingdom's darkest corners, slipping through corridors unseen, listening to whispered schemes and wagging tongues. Some spoke against Ava, calling her reckless, criticizing her indulgences and lovers. Others praised her tireless efforts to improve the Amber Kingdom's economy, to stabilize what her father had nearly destroyed.

No matter their opinions, Roni remained devoted, carrying out Ava's wishes without hesitation. He infiltrated courts and homes, always wearing a mask of anonymity—a slave, a musician, a personal servant. His disguises changed, but his purpose never did. He was her shadow, her spy, her most trusted confidant.

And tonight, he was a slave, albeit one bathed in riches.

The ballroom bustled with activity, servants darting about with trays and decorations as they prepared for the evening's festivities. Roni kept to the background, his hands busy arranging crystal goblets and silver platters, his eyes observing everything. His gaze followed King Caspian as the ruler moved through the room with an air of quiet authority, occasionally assisting his staff with a task or giving a nod of approval.

Roni couldn't help but notice the subtle change in Caspian whenever the white-haired merman—Marcus—was near. The king's dark, brooding presence seemed to soften, his sharp edges tempered by the mere proximity of his fiancé. It was a stark contrast to Ava's interactions with her lovers, who were often dismissed as fleeting distractions. Here, Roni saw something genuine, something that puzzled him.

"Slave," a sharp voice interrupted his thoughts.

Roni turned to find a servant glaring at him, her tone curt. "Take these to His Majesty and his fiancé," she ordered, thrusting a tray laden with food into his hands.

"Yes," Roni murmured, keeping his eyes low, his tone submissive. He clutched the tray and swam toward the royal couple, carefully balancing the weight as he approached.

Caspian and Marcus were deep in conversation, their hands entwined, their voices low but clear enough for Roni's sharp ears to catch snippets.

"You trust her?" Marcus asked, his silver eyes narrowing slightly.

"Not entirely," Caspian replied, his tone measured. "But I believe she understands the benefits of the trade."

Roni set the tray gently on the table before them, keeping his head bowed as a good servant should. Yet, his ears remained attuned to their words, committing every detail to memory. He lingered just long enough to gather what he needed before preparing to leave.

"Wait," a voice called, soft but commanding.

Roni froze, his heart pounding as he turned slowly to face the couple. "Yes?" he said, his voice carefully neutral.

Marcus's silver eyes studied him, curiosity glinting in their depths. "I haven't seen you around before," he said, his tone mild but probing. "Did you come with Queen Ava?"

Roni nodded, his grip tightening slightly on the empty tray. "Yes," he replied, keeping his tone even.

Marcus tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "Why are you here?"

"My mistress instructed me to assist your servants," Roni explained smoothly. "Odd jobs, cleaning, serving—whatever is needed."

A glance passed between Caspian and Marcus, too brief for Roni to decipher. Then Marcus's lips curved into a smile, one that was both disarming and unsettling. "Very well," he said lightly, though something in his tone hinted at deeper intent. "I suppose your mistress wouldn't mind if you accompanied me to the surface tonight. I'm planning to watch the Northern Lights."

Roni's eyes widened, a flicker of panic flashing across his face. The surface? Ava's strictest rule echoed in his mind: Never let humans see you.

He shook his head quickly. "I'm sorry, but I'm forbidden to go to the surface."

Marcus chuckled softly, and before Roni could react, the slender merman reached out, taking his hand in his tattooed one. His grip was firm, yet oddly comforting. "Join me," Marcus said, his voice warm but insistent. "This part of the world is remote. Humans rarely venture into these waters."

Roni hesitated, the weight of his mission battling with the allure of the unknown. The surface was a forbidden mystery, a place he had only heard whispers of. Yet here was Marcus, offering him a glimpse of it, a chance to break free from the confines of his role—if only for a moment.

Still, Ava's voice echoed in his mind, a steady reminder of his duty.

"I..." Roni faltered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I cannot."

Marcus's smile softened, though his grip on Roni's hand remained. "Think about it," he said gently, releasing him at last. "The invitation stands."

Roni bowed his head, murmuring his thanks before retreating into the shadows once more. As he slipped away, his heart pounded in his chest, the weight of his choices pressing down on him.

__________

Here's an expanded version, heightening the tension and Roni's growing unease while adding depth to his bond with Ava and the ominous turn at the end:

"Ava!" Roni screeched as he barreled into her, wrapping his slender arms tightly around her waist.

Ava let out a soft chuckle, her hands instinctively finding their way to his back, holding him close. "What is it, little one?" she murmured, her voice laced with amusement at his sudden outburst.

Roni whined softly, his face buried against her, his words muffled but frantic. "Marcus invited me to the surface! He said he wanted to show me something called the Northern Lights."

Ava paused, her hands moving to thread through his blonde hair, her fingers massaging his scalp in soothing circles. The familiar motion calmed his frazzled nerves, her touch grounding him as it always did.

"You'll be going with the Onyx King's fiancé," Ava said thoughtfully, her voice measured. "I imagine he wouldn't take you without ensuring your safety. I suppose..." Her tone softened, almost reluctant. "I can let you go to the surface. Just this once."

Roni's head shot up, his wide brown eyes sparkling with delight. "Thank you, Ava!" he exclaimed, his excitement bubbling over as he kissed her cheeks in rapid succession, a display of affection that brought a small, indulgent smile to her lips.

But the smile didn't quite reach her golden-brown eyes.

Roni caught the flicker of something—worry, perhaps?—and his joy dimmed for a moment. He hesitated, his excitement faltering. "I'll be back soon," he promised, his voice quieter now.

Ava reached out, her palm tenderly cupping his cheek. Her thumb brushed against his skin with a gentleness that spoke of her deep affection. "Be safe, little one," she murmured, her voice carrying a weight he couldn't quite understand.

He nodded eagerly and pulled away, leaving the room with a bounce in his step. But as he turned the corner, he collided with a firm chest. Strong hands steadied him by the shoulders before he could fall.

Roni looked up, his cheeks flushing as his gaze met Marcus's amused silver eyes. The closeness between them made his heart race, and he scrambled to bow, putting as much distance between them as he could.

"Oh! Eh—I'm sorry!" Roni stammered, his voice high and flustered.

Marcus laughed, the sound warm and light. "It's alright. I'm the clumsy one, not you," he said, brushing off the apology. He tilted his head slightly, his smile widening. "I suppose it's safe to say that Queen Ava has given you permission?"

Roni's nervousness melted away under Marcus's friendly demeanor, and he nodded quickly, his happiness returning. "Oh, yes! She said I could go."

"Good," Marcus said, his smile softening into something almost conspiratorial. He reached out and took Roni's hand in his tattooed one, the contrast between their skin striking. "Come with me."

Roni followed, his earlier excitement bubbling to the surface again—until he noticed something strange.

There were no guards.

As they swam higher toward the surface, the waters growing brighter, Roni's chest tightened. His grip on Marcus's hand faltered, and his pulse quickened with unease.

"Marcus?" he said, his voice trembling slightly. "Where are the guards?"

Marcus glanced over his shoulder, his expression calm and unconcerned. "Guards? Why would we need guards?" he asked, his tone light and almost dismissive.

Roni swallowed hard, his nerves prickling as he looked up at the surface. A shadow rippled across the water above them, large and unnatural. Before he could ask more questions, there was a sudden splash—and the crimson ribbons of blood unfurled in the water like a macabre bloom.

Roni froze, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. The shadow moved again, accompanied by a low, guttural sound that sent chills racing down his spine.

"Marcus," he whispered, his voice barely audible, "what's going on?"

But Marcus's grip on his hand tightened, his silver eyes now unreadable as they flicked toward the surface. The calm friendliness he'd displayed earlier was gone, replaced by something far more deliberate—and unsettling.

"I'm not sure," Marcus said, his voice steady but devoid of the warmth it had carried moments ago.

The shadow loomed larger, the water growing darker, and Roni's instincts screamed at him to flee. But Marcus's hand held him firmly in place, and above them, the surface seemed to ripple with something far more dangerous than Roni could have imagined.