“King Whelk will do the right thing,” Peri says, obviously sensing my divided emotions. “He will find out what’s going on and will act accordingly.”

“I know,” I say. “I trust Daddy.”

I’m just not sure if I trust him more than my own instincts. Everything inside me screams that Aurita isn’t lying. Aunt Rachel always says I should trust my gut, and my gut is telling me that King Zostero is planning something.

“We’ll see what Daddy finds out,” I say, mostly to Quince. “Then I’ll decide what to do.”

“Um, Princess?”

I turn at the sound of a quiet voice, half expecting to see another timid palace maid.

I nearly drift off my stool when I see Astria floating there, with a respectful look on her face, and the lower half of her red hair dyed the same mint-green shade as her tailfin. I bite back a smile. Peri chokes on a laugh. Quince goes back to his second breakfast.

“Excuse the interruption,” Astria says, flicking her gaze at Peri and Quince, “but may I speak to you in private?”

I’m so stunned by her seemingly genuine respect—that’s a first—that I can’t answer.

Peri responds for me.

“Anything you have to say to Lily,” she says, her amusement at Astria’s hair now forgotten, “you can say in front of us.”

I lean back instinctively, braced for Astria’s wrath. She does not like to be put in her place.

So when she merely takes a breath and says, “Please, it will only take a moment,” I’m stunned.

“Um, sure,” I say, giving Peri a wide-eyed what-the-frog-is-going-on-here? look.

Peri shrugs. Yeah, I don’t have a clue either.

Equally curious and afraid this is some sort of humiliation master plot, I follow Astria into the hall outside the kitchen. When she turns to face me, she can’t look me in the eye. I’m starting to lean more toward the master-plot option.

“What you said to me the other night,” she begins, “about the problems in our world and the pettiness of gossip . . .”

Oh no, she’s going to totally light into me. I tense, ready to flee.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, and . . .”

I float back a few inches.

“You’re right.”

I stop kicking and just stare at her.

“What?” I ask as my momentum knocks me into the wall. I push away, floating back to Astria. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re right,” she says. “There are things happening in our world, and I want to help.”

I think my brain just imploded a little. First Doe stops being a wicked brat, and now Astria wants to help. Surely these are signs of a looming apocalypse.

“Um, okay?” I half say, half ask. I feel so off-kilter, I don’t even know which one I’m doing.

“If you need anything,” she says, finally looking me in the eye, “anything at all, just ask.”

She floats forward and presses a slip of kelpaper into my palm.

“This is my address. Send a gull or a message bubble anytime, and I will do whatever I can to help your efforts.”

I think I nod. Or maybe I just stare, slack-jawed, as she turns and swims away. I don’t think my brain can process what happened.

When I swim back into the kitchen, Laver is setting out another tray of food for Quince. Peri looks up, relieved.

“What did she want?”

“I . . .” I shake my head as I float back onto my stool. “She wants to help.”

“She what?” Peri asks.

“Really?” Quince mumbles around a bite of sea-fan toast.

“Yeah,” I say. “She . . . I guess she finally realized there’s something bigger at stake than making other people feel bad.”

Peri scowls. “I still don’t trust her.”

I shrug. I don’t know, maybe I’m the worst judge of character in history, but I think she was being sincere. As we all go back to eating our breakfast—Quince is on his third or fourth, at least—my mind is racing through everything that happened this weekend. Quince’s test. My royal visits. The sabotage plans. And now Daddy’s investigation of Aurita’s claim.

I want to figure out what to do next, but the truth is I can’t decide anything until Daddy talks to King Zostero and sends me his message. Quince and I need to get back to Seaview and get on with our days.

The message will come in time.

Hopefully, answers will come with it.

Chapter 15

“It’s good to be a senior,” Brody says, leaning back against the picnic table.

“And a sophomore.” Doe pokes him in the ribs.

Brody grins at her. “But sophomores aren’t supposed to eat lunch outside. That’s a senior’s right.”

“It’s true,” Shannen says, carefully unwrapping her sandwich.

Doe sticks out her tongue. The old Doe would have huffed and stormed away, but the new Doe just smiles and peels her orange.

I take a bite of my apple and lean into Quince’s side.

We all agreed to bring our lunches today so we could ditch the cafeteria for a little time in the sun. I’m trying not to get tense every time a seagull flies by. Waiting for Daddy’s message is making me nuts. I’m sure it won’t come until at least after school, what with the time required for him to travel to Desfleurelle, speak with the king, and then send word to me.