“Deal,” I say, laughing at her oceanista attitude.

Then the time for teasing is over, and we’re walking into the water, heading out into the ocean and around the horn of Florida, then making our way on speedy currents to the Desfleurelle palace. As we travel, I realize I don’t have much of a plan. But I guess I don’t need one. I just want to talk to the king, to try and explain that sabotage isn’t the answer. Maybe he’ll listen and maybe he won’t, and later I’ll figure out the next step. But for today, I just want to talk.

That doesn’t stop my heart from beating a crazy pattern as Doe and I wait outside the royal chamber for an audience with the king.

“You need to relax,” she says.

“I know,” I say, resisting the urge to say duh. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to speaking with kings and queens.”

“Well, you’d better,” she says. “Your future holds kind of a lot of that.”

This time I give in to the urge. “Duh.”

Knowing and accepting are two different things.

“His majesty will see you now.”

I take a deep breath and, with Doe at my side, swim inside. The king is sitting behind his desk, looking a lot like Daddy when he’s working. Except where Daddy’s hair is salt-and-pepper gray, King Zostero’s is still inky black. Like Aurita’s.

“Princess Waterlily,” he says with an overdone smile, “I did not expect to see you again so soon. And Lady Dosinia . . .” His eyes narrow. “Such a pleasure.”

“Mutual,” Doe says.

“I think you know why we’re here, your highness,” I say. If I keep my tone respectful, maybe things will go better. Smoother. “I was right about the sabotage, and the oil rig accident was your first attack.”

“Ridiculous. I cannot be held accountable for human mishaps.” His smile falls away. “What I wish to know, Princess, is where you got this false information.”

“That doesn’t matter—”

“Aurita,” Doe says.

“Doe!” I gasp.

“Trust me,” she mutters. Then, to the king, “Your daughter entrusted Lily with the truth, and she was right to do so.”

King Zostero studies Doe for a minute, maybe trying to gauge her angle in the situation. The old Doe would definitely be doing this for some kind of benefit, but the new Doe . . . I think she actually has a plan.

“My daughter has been prone to exaggeration in the past,” he says to Doe.

“So have I,” she replies. “But not anymore. Aurita and I have both done some growing up. She wouldn’t exaggerate, not about this.”

Doe meets his gaze head-on, and for a minute it feels like I’m a spectator at a staredown, waiting to see who blinks first. Zostero may be a mer king, but my money’s on Doe outlasting him. She has nerves of steel.

“You are correct,” he finally says, breaking eye contact and turning to face me. “My daughter was not lying.”

“Well . . .” I hadn’t expected such an easy admission of guilt. Now what?

“I do not regret my actions, past, present, or future. Did you really expect to stop me?” he asks. “Either of you? You may not approve of my methods, but the end results will speak for themselves.”

“What end results?” I demand. “What do you expect to win by injuring and killing humans?”

“I wish to scare them out of our waters,” he says. “When they suffer enough losses—whether of life or money—they will retreat. Our oceans will be our own again.”

“That’s . . .” I shake my head. I want to say it’s crazy, but this is exactly what Miss Molina was talking about. Like her old friends from the Everglades, he’s doing wrong things—he even knows they’re wrong—but he thinks he’s doing them for the right reasons. Telling him he’s wrong isn’t going to magically fix things.

But maybe telling him his expectations are wrong will.

“You won’t scare them away,” I say. “A few accidents, even a few lives lost”—I shudder—“in the gulf won’t force them out of the oceans altogether. At best, it will drive them to another corner of the seas.”

His dark eyes watch me carefully as he says, “Not if the attacks occur in more than one kingdom.”

He says it so gently, with so much certainty, I almost miss the meaning.

“Wait, what?” He can’t mean what I think he means. “Are you saying . . . ?”

“There are other kingdoms involved,” Doe fills in. “How many?”

He shrugs carelessly. “Several.”

“Several!” I can’t believe this. “How did you get several other kingdoms to agree to this terrible plan?”

He shrugs again and sits back, crossing his arms over his chest. How can he act so nonchalant about this? About endangering human lives?

I kick forward and lean across the table.

“Your highness, why did you do this?”

Doe floats up next to me. “He didn’t.”

I turn to her. “What do you mean?”

“Desfleurelle is not a terribly influential kingdom in the Western Atlantic,” she says, giving him an appraising look. “King Zostero couldn’t gather a family of sea cucumbers to his side, let alone a group of powerful rulers. Not on his own.”

“But someone else could,” I say, realizing what Doe means. “Who? Who is helping you?” I want to smack the smug look off his face, but I know that won’t help. Besides, solving violence with violence never works. That’s what he’s trying to do.