The Game.
They were examining a display of painted fans when Nana heard it—the sound that made her freeze mid-laugh, her hand tightening involuntarily on Rafayel's.
Guards. The King's personal guard, from the sound of their armor. And they were asking questions.
"—the Princess, have you seen her? About this tall, long dark hair—"
"—reward for information leading to—"
Nana's eyes went wide, meeting Rafayel's.
They noticed, her expression said. They know I'm gone.
But Rafayel just smiled—that dangerous, beautiful smile that made him look more like a predator than a protector—and in one fluid motion, he'd pulled her into a narrow space between two stalls, his body shielding hers completely.
One hand braced against the wall beside her head. The other settled at her waist, holding her steady. His body caged hers, broad shoulders blocking her from view of the passing guards, and suddenly Nana couldn't breathe for reasons that had nothing to do with fear.
He was close. Close enough that she could see the different shades of purple and blue in his hair.
Close enough to count his lashes.
Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him, to smell that strange, intoxicating scent that clung to him—ocean breeze and sea salt and something floral she couldn't quite identify.
"Stay still," he murmured, his voice so low it seemed to vibrate through her. "Don't even breathe."
Nana nodded mutely, her eyes locked on his.
And maybe it was the proximity, or maybe it was the danger of almost being caught, or maybe it was something she'd been feeling since that first night but hadn't known how to name—But looking up at him like this, with his eyes dark and focused entirely on her, with his body protecting hers like she was something precious worth guarding...
She thought she understood what it meant to matter to someone.
The guards passed within feet of them, so close Nana could have reached out and touched them. But they didn't look to the side, didn't notice the shadows between stalls where a princess and her protector hid in plain sight.
The danger passed.
But neither of them moved.
"They're gone," Rafayel said finally, but he didn't step back. Didn't put distance between them. Just stayed there, looking down at her with an expression that made Nana's heart race.
"We should probably—" she started.
"Yes," he agreed.
Still neither of them moved.Still neither of them moved.
Then Nana giggled—she couldn't help it. The absurdity of it, the thrill of almost being caught, the way they were both just standing there like they'd forgotten how to be separate people.
Her giggle broke whatever spell had held them, and Rafayel's lips quirked in response, and then he was laughing too—quiet, genuine laughter that transformed his entire face into something softer, younger, more real.
"Come on," he said, finally stepping back and offering his hand. "Before your father sends the entire army after you."
"Bold of you to assume he hasn't already," Nana replied, but she took his hand anyway, lacing her fingers through his like it was the most natural thing in the world.
They continued their adventure, trying more foods than any two people should reasonably consume in one evening. By the time the moon had fully risen, Nana felt pleasantly stuffed, warm, and happier than she could remember being in her entire life.
"I think I ate too much," she confessed, one hand on her stomach. "I don't think I can move."
"You'll survive," Rafayel said, but there was affection in his voice. Fondness that made Nana's chest feel tight and warm.
"Easy for you to say. You probably have some kind of magical metabolism that—" She yawned hugely, the evening's excitement and the fullness in her belly finally catching up with her. "Sorry. I'm always sleepy after eating."
Rafayel watched her fight another yawn, something soft crossing his face. Then, in a movement so smooth it seemed choreographed, he knelt before her, his back to her, head turned slightly so she could see his profile.
What are you doing?"
"Hop on," he said simply. "I'll carry you home."
"I can walk," Nana protested, but even as she said it, her legs felt heavy, her eyelids heavier.
"I know you can," Rafayel said patiently. "But you don't have to. Not tonight. Let me do this."
There was something in his voice—something almost pleading beneath the casual offer—that made Nana's refusal die on her lips.
"Okay," she said softly, and climbed onto his back with careful movements.
The moment Nana's weight settled against his back, her arms wrapping around his neck, her cheek pressing against his shoulder, Rafayel felt something in his chest crack open and spill over.
This, he thought with aching clarity.
This is what I wanted a hundred years ago.
He stood carefully, his hands hooking under her knees to support her weight, and started walking. Not toward the palace yet—that could wait a few more minutes. First, he just wanted to walk. To feel her against his back. To pretend, just for a moment, that they were a normal couple heading home after a normal evening.
That he was allowed to keep her.
Nana sighed contentedly, her breath warm against his neck. "This is nice,"
she murmured, already half-asleep.
"You smell good. Like the ocean. Sea salt and flowers. It's... comforting."
The ocean I'm letting die, Rafayel thought, but pushed the guilt away. Not now. Not tonight.
"Tell me about tonight," he said instead, keeping his voice gentle. "What was your favorite part?"
"All of it," Nana said drowsily. "But especially... especially when you smiled. Really smiled, not that careful almost-smile you usually do. You should smile more. It's beautiful."
Rafayel's steps faltered slightly.
She notices, he realized. She pays attention to me the same way I pay attention to her.
"And the food," Nana continued, her words starting to slur together. "And hiding from the guards. And... and just being with you. Talking to you. Like we've known each other forever instead of just days. Isn't that strange? How sometimes you meet someone and it feels like fate?"
Fate, Rafayel thought. Yes. The cruelest kind of fate. The kind that gives you everything you've ever wanted and then demands you destroy it.
"Not strange," he said aloud. "Maybe that's what this is. Fate bringing us together."
"Mmm," Nana hummed agreement. "Lucky me. Lucky us. To find each other in a world this big. What are the odds?"
Higher than you'd think when one of us has been searching for a hundred years.
But Rafayel didn't say that. Just kept walking, carrying her through streets that had emptied as the night deepened, past closed shops and sleeping houses, while she dozed against his back and murmured sleepy observations about fate and luck and how happy she was.
And with every step, Rafayel felt the careful walls he'd spent a century building crumble a little more.
This was what he'd dreamed about when he'd been trapped in his merman form, sitting on rocks and watching the beach where she'd saved him.
He'd imagined walking with her along the shore—not swimming, but walking, side by side like humans did. Imagined carrying her when she got tired. Imagined having the right to touch her freely, to hold her, to be the person she turned to when she needed someone.He'd imagined having legs so he could be in her world instead of just watching it from a distance.
And now he had legs. Had walked through the market with her hand in his. Had fed her and been fed by her and hidden her from guards and carried her home piggyback like they were children playing games instead of a god and a princess dancing around impossible choices.
He was living the dream.
And his kingdom was dying because of it.
The water is thinner, a voice whispered in his mind—the voice of duty, of responsibility, of all the things he was supposed to be. Your people are screaming for help. The coral gardens are exposed to air. The palace towers break through the surface.
Children are dying, Rafayel. Families are dissolving into sea foam. And you're here, carrying a girl on your back, smiling like you have nothing more important to do.
The Sea God is drowning, the voice continued. Not in water, but in love. And his entire civilization is drowning with him.
Rafayel tightened his hold on Nana's legs, feeling her sleepy weight against his back, and made a choice.
Then let me drown, he thought back fiercely.
Let me drown in her. Let me have this one thing, this one person, even if it costs me everything else. Let me be selfish just this once.
Let me choose love over duty, heart over kingdom, her over ten thousand others.
I've already made my choice anyway. I made it in the forest when I put the blade away. I made it on the rooftop when I killed those assassins. I made it the moment I saw her again and felt my heart break and heal simultaneously.
I choose her.I will always choose her.
The bond mark against his chest pulsed warmly, almost approvingly, as if it had been waiting for him to admit this all along. As if the curse had always known he was fighting a battle he'd already lost.
"Rafayel?"
Nana's sleepy voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Mmm?"
"Thank you. For tonight. For all of this. For being..." She yawned. "For being you. For being here. For being mine."
Mine, she'd said. The word sent electricity racing through his entire body.
Yes, he thought. I'm yours. I've always been yours. Since the moment you saved me on that beach. Since before you were born. Since fate decided to tie us together across lifetimes and deaths and centuries of waiting.I'm yours, and you're mine, and the universe can burn for all I care as long as I have this.
"Sleep," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion he couldn't quite hide. "I've got you."
"I know," she whispered, and the trust in those two words nearly broke him. "I always know I'm safe with you."
Safe with the most dangerous thing in your life, Rafayel thought. Safe with the monster who was supposed to kill you. Safe with the assassin everyone fears.
Safe with the fool who loves you more than his own kingdom.
He kept walking, kept carrying her, kept marking each step as a rebellion against everything he was supposed to be.
The palace loomed ahead, and with it reality—the fact that he would have to put her down, watch her disappear behind those walls again, return to being just the beautiful stranger she summoned when loneliness became unbearable.
But for now, for these few precious minutes, she was his to carry. His to protect. His to love, even if she didn't know the depth of what he felt.
I'm sorry, he thought toward his kingdom, toward his people, toward the ocean that was dying while he walked through city streets with a sleeping girl on his back. I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to sacrifice her. I'm sorry I'm choosing wrong. I'm sorry I'm the worst king you could have asked for.
But I'm not sorry I'm carrying her. I'm not sorry I'm loving her. I'm not sorry I'm keeping her alive.
I'm only sorry I can't save you both.
Nana's breathing had evened out completely now, deep and slow with genuine sleep. Her arms had loosened slightly around his neck, trusting him to hold her even in unconsciousness.
Rafayel smiled—really smiled, the expression Nana had said was beautiful—and felt the weight of his kingdom on his shoulders get a little heavier even as the weight of her body felt impossibly light.
Let me drown, he thought again. Let me drown in love while the ocean dies.
Let me be selfish for once in my immortal life.
Let me have her, even if it costs me everything.
Because the alternative—having his kingdom but losing her—felt like a different kind of death. A worse kind. The kind where you kept breathing but forgot how to be alive.
And Rafayel had already spent a hundred years being dead inside.He wasn't going back to that darkness.
Not even to save the world.
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🐚🐚
The Return
The palace was quiet when they finally reached it, the celebration winding down, guards changing shifts in predictable patterns Rafayel had memorized. He carried Nana through shadows and across rooftops, moving with inhuman grace, until they reached her window.
She stirred slightly when he climbed through, her arms tightening around his neck.
"We're home," he murmured.
"Don't wanna let go," she mumbled against his shoulder.
Then don't, he wanted to say. Hold on forever. Let me stay. Let me be here when you wake up. Let me be the first thing you see every morning and the last thing you see every night.
Let me be yours in truth, not just in secret.
But he couldn't say any of that. So he just carried her to her bed and carefully, reluctantly, began to disentangle himself from her grip.
"Rafayel," she said, more awake now, her hands catching his robes before he could pull away completely. "Stay? Just for a little while?"
He should say no. Should maintain boundaries. Should keep at least some distance between them.
"Okay," he said instead, and settled beside her bed, his hand caught in hers.Nana's eyes were already closing again, sleep pulling her under.
"Next time," she murmured, "next time let's go to the lake again. With the lanterns. I want to make another wish."
"What would you wish for?" Rafayel asked softly.
She smiled, her thumb stroking across his knuckles in a gesture so unconsciously affectionate it made his chest ache.
"I'd wish that this doesn't have to end," she said. "That you don't have to leave. That whatever this is between us—friendship or fate or something else—I'd wish it could last forever."
Forever, Rafayel thought. She wants forever, and I can't even promise her tomorrow.
But he squeezed her hand gently and said, "Sleep now. Dream of lanterns and wishes and forever."
"Will you be here when I wake up?" she asked, already halfway to sleep.
No, reality demanded. You have to leave. You can't be here. This is already too much, too far, too dangerous.
"I'll watch over you," he said, which was true even if it wasn't what she'd asked.
It seemed to be enough. Nana's breathing evened out, her hand going lax in his, and she slept with a small smile on her lips.
Rafayel stayed exactly where he was, sitting on the floor beside her bed, holding her hand in the darkness.
I'm drowning, he thought. I'm drowning in love for you while my ocean dies. And I don't care. I don't care.
Let the seas run dry.
Let Lemuria fall to dust.
Let me be the worst king in history.
As long as I have this—as long as I have you—nothing else matters.
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🐚🐚🐚
To be continued __