I don't think there's an instruction manual for getting ready to go to an execution. Nevertheless, we all tried to prepare as best we could the following morning. I dressed in a muted version of my usual attire—a sleek purple-and-grey gown with a crimson shawl draped over my shoulders. Everyone else dressed similarly.

No one wore anything ostentatious—no crowns or anything—as to blend into the shadows. I tried to fasten my locket around my neck, but my hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped it.

The ghost's words played on a loop in my head: "Her reign may be over, but her actions, and the consequences following those actions, will be felt for months to come. Be on your guard, Princess. Watch out for your loved ones. Keep them safe." My body shook with a barely-suppressed shudder. When I felt hands on me, I had to resist the urge to reach for the daggers hidden at my sides.

Kai brushed my hair away from my face, his hands steady and soft. "Let me," he said, voice calm. I handed the chain to him gratefully, clenching my hands into fists. I took deep breaths, exhaling deeply. The last thing I needed was to have an anxiety attack today.

He finished with my locket, reaching for my hand. His eyes—wide with concern—locked on mine, scanning my face. I had no doubt he could read the emotions flashing across my face. "I-I don't know if I can do this," I whispered, voice trembling.

He brushed his lips against mine, lingering for a heartbeat before pulling away. "I'll be by your side the whole time. Jesper and Troy will be there as well, keeping an eye on everything. I won't let anyone hurt you."

As always, I was touched by his concern for me, but he misunderstood my words. He assumed I was talking about the impending execution—that couldn't be further from the truth. Don't get me wrong; I was terrified of having to watch a family member die in front of me. But that wasn't the reason for my increased anxiety.

No; my hands were shaking for a completely different reason. I had tossed and turned all last night, unable to dispel the ghost's words—the implications of them. What did they mean? Were the former king and queen going to be present today?

A knock on our door stirred me fron my ruminating thoughts. I swam to the door, steadying myself before opening it. Mom and Dad floated on the other side, the former pale and shaking, the latter silent and calm. I couldn't even begin to imagine how difficult this was for Mom. After losing Aunt Meri in such a gruesome way... This had to be gut-wrenching.

"Are you sure you're up for this? No one would blame you if you stayed behind." Even though I already knew her answer, I had to ask.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. No. I will not cower. A regent is required to witness an execution, regardless of familiarity. I'm ready.

Her hands were shaking so bad, it took her almost a full minute to get through all four sentences. I glanced at Dad, but he merely shook his head. Clearly, this was not the first time they'd had this conversation.

I turned back to Kai, reaching for his hand. "Shall we?" My face was calm, but my mind was racing.

He took my hand, squeezing it gently as we swam out of the suite. The water had a somber feel to it; like every creature was holding its breath.

The swim to Nepptheas was grim and silent. Aunt Bella joined us there, silent and tense. I didn't see Uncle David; he must have stayed behind to watch Faye and Drew. I was glad—they shouldn't have to witness this. She hugged Mom, putting a gentle arm around her when they broke apart. Jesper and Troy nodded at us before disappearing into the shadows.

My stomach was in knots; I hadn't eaten anything yet. I wasn't even sure I could if I tried. The sounds of chatter from up ahead made my breath catch in my throat. Kai gripped my hand, his touch soothing. We were led to the royal enclosure, each throne with a clear view of the block. I shivered as we took our seats, Kai's hand never leaving mine.

The scaffold block loomed over us, a shadow falling over it even though the sky above was clear. A curved slope was in the middle, meant for the prisoner to place his or her head in. Steps leading up to the block were on the right side, away from the block itself.

I caught one or two pairs of eyes glancing our way. Their expressions ranged from somber to impatient. My face completely drained of color; a strangled gasp escaped my mouth as I glimpsed the block. I couldn't help but picture it, and the wood, stained with blood. A sudden hush fell over the crowd as a burly merman around Uncle David's age swam onto the block, dressed in a black shirt that hugged his muscular arms.

"The former queen of Nepptheas," he shouted, his voice ringing over the clearing, "has been charged with attempted murder. The true king and queen, King Marlin and Queen Irvetta, were thought dead, brutally murdered by a jealous and desperate mermaid. Unbeknownst to most, they have been hidden away in an abandoned house in Aquireth." He paused for effect. "But, as you can see," he continued, gesturing to his left, "they are very much alive."

Hushed whispers and gasps rippled through the crowd as a mermaid and merman appeared, accompanied by a guard each. Queen Irvetta looked exhausted but radiant in a blue gown with green stitching. King Marlin had a similar expression on his face, dressed in a blue suit jacket with green adornments. From my position in the enclosure, I couldn't see any obvious injuries on either of them, but they both had a weariness about them.

They both nodded to the crowd, accepting the well-wishes and compliments gracefully. The guards led them to the royal enclosure, where they gratefully sank into seats near Mom and Dad. When the water was finally silent again, the executioner cleared his throat before speaking, his voice ringing out in the silence. "Bring the prisoner forward!"

My breath caught in my throat, nearly choking me as a flash of dirty blonde hair, ripped free from her updo, appeared in my vision. The mermaid that used to be my aunt was unrecognizable. Her face was streaked with silt, her eyes wild. Her once-beautiful gown was tattered and frayed, the sleeves hanging on by a thread.

The guards, two burly mermen around Dad's age, roughly gripped her arms, forcing her head into the slope. The scream that emerged from her throat was like nothing I'd ever heard before. Everyone flinched at the noise; out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mom grip the arms of her throne. Dad placed a hand over hers, the motion barely perceptible.

When the executioner glanced at Mom, she nodded, a mask of calm falling over her terrified features. "Naia Demetra Monroe," he called out. "You have been found guilty of attempted murder. You are sentenced to death by decapitation. Any last words?"

Despite her rags and unkempt appearance, she was remarkably calm as her eyes swept over the crowd. When they fell on the royal enclosure, she passed over each of us before focusing on Mom. "You were my sister," she said, voice surprisingly tight. "I loved you!"

Mom opened her mouth to respond, eyes red with tears, but froze as a brown-haired blur zoomed through the water. The entire crowd, us included, froze as a merman slammed into Aunt Naia. The executioner was already aiming his axe, but he paused for a heartbeat, shock etched into his features. Uncle Brandon gripped Aunt Naia's hand, eyes locked on hers. "I can't let you do this." Before she could so much as open her mouth, he quickly shoved her off the block.

"No!" The word tore from her mouth in a drawn-out, high-pitched shriek. The executioner quickly recovered. He swung the axe a few times through the water before a sickening sound could be heard. The scream that tore from Uncle Brandon's throat a second before the blade sliced through his neck was like nothing I'd ever heard before—and nothing I wished to hear again.

It was over in a heartbeat, yet the memory would last forever. The crowd gasped; I heard the sound of retching and smelled a faint tang as someone was sick behind us. Blood—so much blood—sprayed into the water, splattering on the ground in front of the block and on the block itself. A muted thump could be heard, but I couldn't look.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I gripped Kai's arm, shock and grief whirling around inside me. Mom had a blank stare on her face—one I recognized all too well. It was the expression of someone who'd been beaten down one too many times. She'd retreated inside herself so much that it would be almost impossible to pull her out.

Dad took her arm, holding her upright as the four of us slowly began our journey home. I wasn't sure what was going to happen to Aunt Naia now—if she would be put in prison, or something worse.

Tears rolled down my face before I even realized I was crying. Hysteria bubbled up inside me; I had to bite down on the scream that was moments away from escaping. I wanted to curl up in a ball and block out the world; I wanted to scream until my lungs begged for water. But I didn't.

I shivered as we finally arrived back home. Was I cold, or was that the shock finally setting in? I wasn't sure. When we were alone in our suite, I rushed to the bathing room, unable to hold anything back. I vomited bile and spittle onto the floor, the result of me not having eaten anything.

The images played on a loop in my head: Uncle Brandon pushing Aunt Naia off the block; the complete and utter agony in Aunt Naia's face; the way Uncle Brandon's face contorted in a scream seconds before the blade came down. I heaved several times, unable to get any water into my lungs.

I dimly heard the door open, low voices whispering, or felt the feather-light touch of Rochelle as she pulled my hair back and wiped my face. "Let's get you into bed," she murmured, gently lifting me off the floor. I was limp in her arms, weightless, as she carried me to our bed. Kai was there, his eyes filled with worry and concern.

"I'll check in every few hours. Let me know if she gets sick again." Rochelle's voice floated in and out of my ears—everything seemed so far away.

"Sleep, Isadora," Kai said softly, kissing the top of my head. "I'm right here." His words were like an ocean current, carrying me away into the blackness of sleep.

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