“I’m ready to move on and do something else,” Jack finally said, when their talk of Atlantis and the world had died down. “The next group of rebel leaders has already stepped into our shoes, and I don’t want to go back to that life anyway. I think this time I’ll try seeing the world without the need to take charge and save the day. I have an uncle in Florida I’ve been meaning to visit for a few years. He lives in a town named Dead End, can you believe it?”
Quinn laughed. “Sounds interesting.”
“Probably not, but that’s what I’m looking for right now. Someplace not interesting.” He plucked a flower off an absurdly round purple bush and handed it to her.
“You’ll always be a hero, Jack,” she said. “No matter where you go. That’s who you are, and you can’t change that.”
His eyes darkened, and just for a moment, it was the tiger looking out at her, and not the man. “I don’t know if that’s still true, Quinn. I need time to learn who I am without the battles and the blood and the killing.”
“I’m always here if you need me,” she said. “You know that, right?”
He hugged her, hard, and then let go, and she felt a moment of deep sadness, as if he’d already gone.
“Quinn, I . . . If you ever need me—”
“I know,” she said, brushing the tears off her face with the back of her hand. “I know. Same goes.”
She reached out, one final time, to try to sense his emotions as she told him she loved him and she wished him well, and they both promised to keep in touch.
She felt it in him, as in her own heart, that they both doubted they would.
They didn’t say good-bye this time. Once had been enough.
She watched him walk away, down toward the shore where he’d said a friend with a boat was waiting, and she finally let the tears fall freely.
“Good luck, Jack. I love you, too.”
Alaric walked up behind her and pulled her into his arms. She rested her head on the hard muscles of his chest and watched Jack disappear into the noise and chaos of the people renovating the Atlantean port, so long unused.
“He deserves someone who loves him the way I love you,” she said through her tears.
“He will find her,” Alaric said. “I have a very strong feeling about that tiger. He’s going to have an interesting life.”
“Oh, boy. I’m not sure that’s a good prediction,” Quinn said, laughing a little. “Our lives have been far too interesting already.”
“It’s an Atlantean curse, you know. May you live in interesting times,” Alaric said. “And so true of the Atlantean family who adopted Faust. When I saw him earlier today, he’d just set the archery targets on fire. All of them.”
Quinn started laughing and turned around to look at him. “He’s a good kid. He’ll do well. But anyway, I thought that saying was Chinese.”
Alaric raised one silken eyebrow, and she started laughing. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You guys were here first. Well, my interesting Atlantean, let’s go to the palace. Riley is making me try on some ridiculous fancy dress for her coronation.”
“The queen’s sister cannot wear rags,” Alaric said. “However, you could wear those red silk undergarments, so I can think of taking them off you with my teeth—”
“While you’re crowning Conlan and Riley king and queen? I think not.” She pretended to be horrified by the suggestion, but then she stood on tiptoe and whispered a very, very naughty suggestion of what he could think about instead, and when he groaned and yanked her against him, she kissed him, right there in the middle of everything, for a very long time.
Chapter 36
The palace throne room, Atlantis, a week later
“In the name of Poseidon, I crown you King Conlan of Atlantis. Long may you reign!” Alaric placed the gem-encrusted crown that he knew Conlan would probably never wear again on his friend’s bowed head, and an overwhelming feeling of peace swept through him, as the crowd of Atlanteans and visiting dignitaries roared their approval with thunderous applause.
Finally, finally, the prince was crowned king, and the Atlantean ruling succession was secure. Now it was Conlan’s turn. Alaric swept his ceremonial cloak, rich velvet in Conlan’s colors of cerulean blue and silver, to one side, bowed low to his friend the king, and then handed him a second, smaller crown.
The king turned to his wife, the princess Riley, and smiled. Both of them wore shining silver, edged in the same deep ocean blue as Alaric’s clothing, and baby Aidan, safe in his mother’s arms, shone like a tiny beacon in matching blue and silver. Ven, Erin, Justice, and Keely stood on either side of the throne, dressed in similar finery, presenting a united front of the Atlantean royal family to all of Atlantis and, through the miracle of modern media, to the entire world.
Quinn, standing next to her sister, wore a simple blue gown edged in silver, and Alaric almost could not bear to look at her for fear he’d forget every word of the coronation ceremony and simply whisk her off to his rooms and ravish her.
Again.
The rehearsal had gone badly for that very reason.
Stand down, boy, she sent to him, laughter infusing her thoughts. Let’s get them crowned, and we can escape the party early.
Conlan gently placed the crown upon his wife’s head, and then turned to the assembled crowd. “Behold my wife, Queen Riley. Long may she reign!”
When the applause died down, Conlan took his son and hugged him, and then he addressed the crowd.
“We have endured much in our millennia of isolation from the world, but it has made us stronger as a people. Today, Riley and I stand before you, your representatives to the international community, and we promise to do everything in our power to bring Atlantis into the world as a strong, vibrant country whose people believe in peace, justice, and freedom. Long live Atlantis!”
The crowd picked up the chant. “Long live Atlantis! Long live Atlantis!”
The cheers were deafening and lasted a long time, but Alaric, always tuned in to the undercurrents, noticed a few small pockets of resentment. A human queen of Atlantis, when there had always been many women willing and ready to step up to the job of being Conlan’s wife—well, that was certainly a reason for discord. Politics and maneuvering, usually at the forefront of any royal court but relatively unknown in Atlantis, were beginning to surface after thousands of years of relative peace.
An Atlantis beneath the waves was a far different proposition than an Atlantis above the waves. Outside forces would be a factor—shifting alliances and constant betrayals—
“Why the frown, Alaric?” Conlan said, clapping him on the back. “Can you not find a smile at my coronation?”
Alaric’s forebodings dissipated, and he grinned. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. May I bring you some chilled grapes, Your Majesty?”
Conlan winced. “Don’t even joke about that. I’ve already had to deal with an increase in bowing and curtseying from a lot of people on my palace staff who should know better.”
Ven pounded his brother on the back. “No worries. Just wander on down to the warrior training grounds and I’ll kick your ass in a sparring match.”
Justice grinned. “We will knock that kingly arrogance out of you in no time, brother.”
The queen took her husband’s arm and pretended to glare at them all. “You can knock each other’s heads together later, boys. We have a coronation party to attend.”