"Morgan," Ren began hesitantly, her voice a timid ripple against the quiet murmur of the cove. "Are you sure this is... appropriate?" She glanced down at the ethereal garments draped over her body, her cheeks coloring as she tugged the gossamer cape tighter around her shoulders.

Morgan glanced up from his work, his ageless face calm but focused. In the dim light of the cave, his sea-green eyes gleamed like fragments of an ancient gemstone. He paused, resting a clawed hand lightly on the edge of his mixing shell. "Appropriate?" His voice carried the weight of the abyss—deep, slow, and deliberate. "Child, you underestimate the significance of these garments. They are not merely clothing; they are an introduction. In these waters, appearances are power. You will wear them not for modesty, but for magnificence."

Ren squirmed under his steady gaze. The coral branches covering her chest glimmered like molten silver, delicate diamonds trailing down her sternum to her navel. A translucent, almost imperceptible cape draped down her back, catching the faint glow of the phosphorescent walls. But it was the string of black pearls encircling her waist that unsettled her most, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She clutched the blanket tighter across her lap.

"It's too revealing," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Morgan let out a low hum, the sound resonating like a distant tide. "Do not fear what others may see, Ren. Fear what they might overlook." He turned back to his potion, the liquid inside shifting with iridescent hues as he stirred. His long fingers moved with precision, each motion deliberate, as though this was a ritual performed countless times before.

"That potion," Ren whispered, watching the swirling substance. "You're like Ursula."

Morgan froze for a moment, the muscles in his shoulders taut. Then he let out a soft laugh, rich and layered, like the creak of a ship's hull under pressure. "Ursula," he echoed, the name rolling off his tongue. "A name your kind has twisted into a monster's tale. But no, she was no part-octopus monstrosity. She was merfolk, like me. A healer and a visionary—though her visions frightened many."

Ren tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her dark eyes. "Then why do humans think she was evil?"

"Because stories grow like coral," Morgan replied, his tone distant, reflective. "The truth becomes obscured, encrusted with fear and imagination. She was strong, too strong for her time. The ocean, like the land, does not forgive what it cannot control."

Ren shivered. His words carried a chill that felt deeper than the waters around her. "How do you know so much about me?"

Morgan's lips quirked into a faint smile. "Atlantis speaks of you often, and when Atlantis speaks, I listen. But more than that, the ocean has whispered to me of you. It knows your path, even if you do not."

Ren blinked, overwhelmed by the gravity in his tone.

Morgan extended the shell toward her, the luminous potion swirling like liquid moonlight. "Drink."

Ren hesitated, staring at the substance. "Drink it?" she repeated, her voice shaking. "Won't it make me sick?"

Morgan regarded her with a calm patience, his expression ancient and unreadable. "Transformation is seldom painless, Ren. But I assure you, this will not harm you. Do you trust me?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. Her gaze met his, searching the endless depths of his eyes. Finally, she nodded and took the shell.

The potion was warm as it slid down her throat, its metallic taste leaving a strange heat in her chest. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the tingling began—a soft prickle at first, starting at her toes and climbing upward like a rising tide.

Her breath quickened. "Morgan... I feel..."

Before she could finish, pain lanced through her legs. She gasped, clutching at the blanket as her limbs seemed to lose their structure. She collapsed onto the sandy floor, her body writhing.

"It hurts!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.

Morgan was by her side in an instant, gathering her trembling form into his arms. "Breathe," he murmured, his voice steady and grounding. "Pain is the ocean's forge, shaping you into something greater. Endure, and you will emerge anew."

White scales began to spread across her thighs and hips, glittering like frost beneath moonlight. Her legs twisted unnaturally, the bones and muscles rearranging themselves in a way that defied comprehension. Ren screamed, her nails digging into Morgan's arms.

"Shh," he whispered, brushing her hair back. "It is almost done, child. Let the ocean claim you."

Finally, the pain subsided, leaving only a heavy ache. Ren glanced down at her body, her breath catching in her throat. Where her legs once were, a single tail stretched out, the scales glinting like opals in the soft light.

Morgan smiled faintly, his expression one of quiet satisfaction. "You are becoming, Ren. Rest now. The tide will carry you through what comes next."

Her vision blurred, and she let herself fall into the darkness, Morgan's steady heartbeat the last thing she heard.

Kai's Morning

Sunlight filtered through the water, casting rippling beams into the Emerald King's chambers. Kai stirred, his muscular form stretching against the coral bed. His golden hair caught the light as he flexed his arms, shaking off the remnants of sleep.

For a fleeting moment, the day felt ordinary. Then reality returned, heavy and unyielding. Tonight, he would choose his queen.

He groaned, rubbing his face with a scaled hand. "A ball," he muttered. "What a spectacle this will be."

A sharp knock interrupted his thoughts.

"Enter," Kai called, his voice still groggy.

Atlantis swam in, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. "Good morning, brother. Ready to charm the kingdom's maidens?"

Kai rolled his eyes. "If by 'charm' you mean endure relentless scrutiny, then yes, I'm prepared."

Atlantis smirked, setting a tray of raw tuna on a nearby table. "Oh, come now. Surely there's some excitement in the thought of finding your mate?"

Kai snorted, grabbing a piece of tuna. "Excitement? Hardly. Duty does not excite me, Atlantis. It binds me."

Atlantis chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "And yet, duty often surprises us. Speaking of surprises, what are your thoughts on Ren?"

Kai paused mid-bite, his mind conjuring her image. Her laughter, her bravery—it lingered in his thoughts like the melody of a distant song. "She's... different. Kind, curious. If not for her, I'd think humans incapable of good."

Atlantis raised a brow, his smirk widening. "Interesting. And yet, you've hidden your true identity from her."

Kai tensed, guilt flashing across his features. "Perhaps I wanted her to see me as I am, not as a king."

Atlantis hummed thoughtfully. "A noble intention, though it seems fate has other plans for you."

Kai shot him a wary look. "What are you up to, Atlantis?"

His brother's smile was maddeningly enigmatic. "You'll see, dear brother. The tides are shifting."