Astrid is the crown princess of Atlantis, but she barely has time to worry about the kingdom with six younger sisters to watch over, especially with the youngest coming into her powers as a daughter of the sea to navigate time. When Astrid fears tha...
"You are an enigma, Astrid," Brandon breathes. "Do you have a last name?"
I frown in confusion. "I only have one name. Do people here have more than one?"
Brandon looks back at me in confusion. "People here? Most people have two, usually three names. Ben One has like half a dozen."
"Oh. Why?"
He shrugs. "I guess cause there's so many people? Helps us to tell each other apart." Brandon purses his lips as he studies me. "Are there not many people where you come from? Was it, like, a small town, or something?"
I consider mighty Atlantis, the place where I know the name of every one of my subjects. It always seemed like so many. But compared to this place Brandon describes to me? How can it seem so limited when the oceans are so much greater than the land, according to our earliest explorers?
"So, since you don't have a last name..." Brandon brushes his shoulder against mine and then wags his eyebrows with exaggerated effect. "Want mine?"
Blinking, I wonder what kind of joke he is trying to make here; so hard to tell without a thorough knowledge of his culture. But it seems like a kind offer, so I nod. "Thank you."
Brandon seems to trip over both his feet. "Wait, are you serious?"
"I know you are joking, but if you want me to be serious, I will. It is a generous offer either way."
Mirth seems to dance in Brandon's eyes, mixed with a little fear and something dangerous. "Wait, don't you know how women get men's last names?"
My heart seems to pump in my chest. Have I accidentally volunteered to accept something unethical?
Brandon leans forward and whispers in my ear. "Marriage."
I exhale in relief. Nothing wrong then; just the most legitimate relationship available, something that has crossed from the sea to the land, apparently. "In that case, I still accept." It will make this situation easier, certainly.
Pulling back, Brandon's eyes seem to about bug out of his head. "Are you proposing to me, Astrid?"
"No." I duck my head to the side, feeling my hair drape over my shoulder like a canopy. "You are proposing to me."
"I-I am?" Brandon's Adam's apple bulges, and two splotches of red appears on his cheeks.
"Yes." I nod like I would to one of my subjects. "And I accept."
"Y-you accept?" Brandon looks around, like he might find some way to stop repeating everything I say. He finds a palm tree and grasps it, apparently for support.
"Indeed. I grant you the right to be my king." Though how he will rule from up here is beyond me.
Oh, well, I only need him to love me enough for me to return to the sea. Then we have no choice but to go our separate ways.
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