Jilted Bride? I Married The Supreme Lord

Katrina POV:

"Genevra, you're my true salvation. That Spirit-less waste Katrina doesn't even have a Tide-Oath Ring on her finger to prove her rank. She isn't fit to step through the gates of the Mccall Marquessate."

My fiancé's voice drifted out of the arcane water mirror, followed by a woman's soft, satisfied laugh.

"Of course, darling," the woman purred. "A merfolk's Tide-Spirit is the source of their power and status, while a Tide-Oath Ring marks a recognized bond and noble standing. And Katrina? She's nothing but a Spirit-less disgrace, unworthy of either."

I froze.

Within the dark surface of the mirror, Edmund Mccall had a petite blonde woman pinned against the velvet cushions of a luxury Submersible Crystal Coach. His hands wandered beneath her silk bodice as he pressed kisses against her neck.

The woman tilted her head back with a pitiful whimper, deliberately exposing the faint cosmetic surgery scar behind her right ear.

Genevra Anderson.

My younger sister, the daughter the Anderson family had recently brought back from the border mines after she had just recovered her health.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe.

I'd spent three years working myself to exhaustion in the Antai Merchant Guild's workshops, weaving precious sea-silk until my eyes blurred and my fingers bled. Every coin I'd earned had gone toward Edmund. Every sacrifice had been for the man I was supposed to marry next month.

And this was how he repaid me?

By sleeping with the sister my family had only just welcomed home?

Edmund's hand slid farther beneath Genevra's bodice. She gave another breathy laugh, then whispered something I couldn't make out. He answered by kissing her again.

I stared at the image, my fingernails digging into my palms. No tears came. I felt as though the cold ocean itself had flooded my chest, freezing every last trace of affection I'd ever had for him.

The arcane water mirror finally revealed the details I'd overlooked in my shock. The glacial-blue gems on the vehicle's exterior bore the crest of House Mccall. Beyond its windows stretched a dark underwater trench, far outside the city dome.

They weren't even trying to hide.

I swept my hand through the mirror's surface, scattering the image into ripples across the flagstones.

Edmund Mccall wanted to make me a laughingstock? Fine. I'd give him a spectacle he would never forget.

Grabbing my cloak, I strode out of the stone chamber toward the checkpoint of the Perimeter Vanguard.

The familiar ache of my failing body followed me down the corridor. I had been born Spirit-less, a woman without a Tide-Spirit, and the dull, ash-gray Brow Scale in the center of my forehead had marked me as an outcast for as long as I could remember. While other merfolk could shift into their siren forms and swim freely through the open sea, I was trapped in a human body, unable to survive beyond the protection of the city dome.

I'd learned early that survival meant making do with what I had.

I earned my living among the lowest workers in the Antai Merchant Guild, and every bolt of sea-silk that left my loom paid for the roof over my head. Even activating an arcane water mirror to observe the outside world cost me a fortune.

I'd only spent the money because a persistent, uneasy premonition had made me suspect Edmund was hiding something.

Now I wished I'd never doubted my instincts.

On the paved streets, merfolk in tall human form bustled past. Above us, the glowing blue membrane of the Tidal Bubble stretched across the city, holding back the crushing weight of the ocean. Under the artificial light of the Hydrosun, its streets were bright and warm enough for merfolk to walk comfortably on two legs.

I walked against the crowd, reciting the Imperial Code on noble warlords committing indecency in restricted military zones during wartime.

At the border gate, the blue barrier hummed. Just outside the membrane in the dark sea, two guards of the Perimeter Vanguard patrolled in their shifted siren forms, their long scaled tails gleaming, neck gills flaring red, and webbed hands gripping heavy lances as they rode giant Bone-Crusher Megalodons to guard the dome against abyssal demons. Their cold eyes looked through the barrier at my gray Brow Scale.

I lifted my chin and held up my Spirit Nautilus shell, which had copied the trench's coordinates before I broke the mirror's surface.

"I am reporting Edmund Mccall, heir to the Mccall Marquessate, for illegally parking a submersible coach in the Third Trench restricted zone, under suspicion of leaking defense secrets."

The vanguard captain frowned at the noble name, but military law allowed no mercy. He raised a low-frequency sonar horn to his lips. A sharp blast shook the water, sending a squad of shark riders shooting toward the trench.

I watched them disappear into the darkness. For the first time that day, I felt something other than humiliation.

Fighting the dizziness of my Spirit-less body, I boarded a public transit car and rode ahead to the Noble Inspection Plaza between the Inner Atolls and the Outer Shoals.

The journey gave me just enough time to steady my breathing. Edmund had always believed his family name could shield him from consequences. He was about to discover that even a marquess's heir couldn't outrank the Imperial Code.

Half a tide-hour later, four Megalodons dragged the submersible coach through the airlock and slammed it onto the marble plaza. The surrounding nobles gasped.

Guards yanked the coach door open and dragged a disheveled Edmund and a screaming Genevra out into the bright light of the Hydrosun. Genevra bit the center of her lower lip, big tears rolling down her cheeks as she clutched Edmund's sleeve.

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"Isn't that the young lord of House Mccall? Why was he fooling around with the second Anderson daughter in a military zone when he's marrying the eldest next month?"

Edmund fumbled with his uniform collar. His pale blue eyes swept the crowd and locked onto me standing by the pillars. His face turned livid. He marched straight toward me, raising his voice to cover his panic.

"Katrina! You did this, didn't you? You vicious woman, calling the vanguard just to humiliate me!"

I gave a cold laugh and met his glare.

"My Lord, Imperial Law forbids private meetings in defense trenches. I merely did my duty as a citizen. If you are innocent, where is the humiliation?"

Genevra broke free from a guard and threw herself near my boots, sobbing.

"Katrina, I'm sorry, it's all my fault! I couldn't help myself... Don't blame Edmund, his Tide-Spirit was restless and he needed a woman's Soothing!"

I stepped back in disgust.

"Save your cheap blood-algae tears, Genevra. Your lack of self-control just dragged the whole guild's name through the mud."

The vanguard captain slammed the butt of his lance onto the marble with a sneer.

"A Warlord-rank officer breaking basic military law and hiding behind a Spirit-less woman? You're a disgrace to the cavalry!"

Pushed back by the captain's aura, Edmund's glacial-blue Brow Scale flickered. He pointed a shaking finger at me.

"Katrina, just you wait! This engagement is over!"

I straightened my spine, pulled the cheap silver engagement ring I had stopped wearing a month ago from my pocket, and threw it hard at his boots.

"You don't get to end it. I'm throwing you out. Take your 'salvation' and rot in the tribunal."

The silver ring bounced across the stones. Edmund stared at it, all color draining from his face. Before he could speak, the guards clapped magic-suppressing cuffs on them both and dragged them toward the High Council detention hall.

The crowd erupted into whispers again. Some nobles laughed openly. Others stared at me as though they couldn't believe the Spirit-less girl they'd just watched being insulted had dared to throw away a marriage to House Mccall.

I didn't care. Let them talk. I was done begging for a place in a family that had never wanted me.

As the crowd thinned, my strength gave out. My vision blurred, my legs turned to lead, and my hand slipped off the carved coral pillar beside me.

I pitched forward, waiting for the cold marble to hit my face. Instead, a hard, broad chest caught me, wrapping me in the scent of deep-sea ice and ozone.

I blinked up at a face carved like a cold god's. On his long index finger gleamed a platinum Tide-Oath Ring set with an aurora crystal-the mark of a High Council seat. Around us, remaining nobles lowered their gazes, angled their bare necks, and pressed their ten fingers flat against their sides in submission. Someone gasped.

"Augustus Mccall!"

The name alone was enough to make the entire Noble Inspection Plaza fall silent. He was the High Lord of Tides-the supreme military commander of the Siren Empire, the master of the legion, and the undisputed sovereign of the Four Realms' battlefronts.

Augustus Mccall looked down with dark golden eyes, the gold-and-violet Brow Scale on his forehead radiating terrifying Sovereign power. His large hand steadied my waist, his voice a low gravel.

"Stand straight. Don't embarrass yourself," he murmured, his hand lingering at my waist. His golden eyes held mine, a faint, unreadable smile tugging at his lips. "Or do you need me to hold you a little longer?"

Shaken by his aura, I pulled back, though the scorching heat of his palm strangely eased the ache in my chest.

"Thank you, Your Grace," I murmured, meeting his gaze for one last moment before turning and walking down the steps.

I didn't look back.

So I had no idea that, long after I disappeared into the crowd, the Empire's supreme commander remained standing beside the coral pillar, his gaze fixed on the direction I'd taken.