But my absolute favorite part is the giant column of glass filling the center of the restaurant. Inside that column is a true piece of land, a terrarium complete with grass, a small pine tree, and—this is the absolute best part—a pair of cardinals!

I’m not sure how it works, how they get fresh air and sunshine, but it is an amazing feat of mer technology.

As we swim up to the hostess counter, Quince looks totally in awe. “Nice,” he says. “Where’d they find all this stuff?”

“The seafloor.” I shrug. “For centuries humans viewed the ocean as a dumping ground.”

“Some of them still do,” Quince says.

So true. “We just cleaned up the mess they left behind.”

Before we can get into some kind of environmental discussion, the hostess swims up. “Princess Lily!” she squeals, her short parrotfish-blue hair waving around her head like a halo. “How nice to see you again!”

“Hi, Tang,” I reply. “Is my father here yet?”

“He’s in the captain’s quarters.”

“Thanks.” The captain’s quarters is a small private dining room in the back. Its walls are covered in the crystal drops of countless ocean-liner chandeliers, making it feel like you’re eating inside a diamond or a giant geode. Daddy doesn’t usually care about privacy, so I’m not sure why he’s making the big gesture tonight.

“Come on,” I say to Quince as I head for the room. “Let’s get this separation over with.”

The second we float through the crystal-beaded curtain covering the door to the captain’s quarters, I know something is up. Daddy is not alone at the big round table. Graysby and Grouper are on one side of him, and Calliope Ebbsworth is on the other.

“Oh, no,” I breathe.

“What?” Quince asks, swimming closer to my side. “Is something wrong?”

I just shake my head—it’s not like I can throw a fit before I’m a thousand percent certain of what’s about to happen. But I know. Daddy’s not settling for a rubber-stamped couples counseling. He’s bringing out the Challenge—an archaic three-test trial to prove irreconcilability. Otherwise Calliope and his advisers wouldn’t need to be here.

“Lily,” Daddy says with a big smile. Then, still smiling, “Quince.”

“What’s going on, Daddy?” I ask, trying to sound even tempered.

As if he senses my internal freak-out, Quince’s hand comes up against the small of my back. I know it’s just the bond easing my emotions, but I’m thankful for the gesture.

“I asked Graysby, Grouper, and Calliope to join us for dinner,” Daddy says as if nothing’s going on.

“Greetings, Princess,” Graysby says.

Grouper smiles. “Master Quince.”

Quince nods at them.

“Calliope,” I say to Quince, because I’m sure everyone else in the room already knows what’s going on, “is the Thalassinian bond facilitator.”

“The what?”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “She’s a mermate couples counselor.”

“It’s a matter of protocol,” Daddy says as the server clears the table. “According to Thalassinian law you must prove due diligence in your relationship before you can declare for a separation.”

“That’s a technicality and you know it,” I retort. “No one has enforced due diligence in decades.”

I see the change in Daddy’s face, in his eyes, long before he speaks. He does not appreciate my questioning his judgment or authority in front of his subjects. “Whatever has happened in the past,” he says in his royal voice, “I choose to enforce it now. You are a princess of Thalassinia and therefore subject to greater scrutiny than her citizens.”

“But Daddy—”

“You are not above the law, daughter.” His eyes soften and he adds, “And you are not blessed with a surplus of time.”

“Is that what this is about?” I kick up from the table. “You think I’m going to wind up bondless on my birthday? That’s why we have to go through this?”

“Go through what?” Quince asks.

Daddy does not acknowledge him. “Partly.”

“I’ll have you know,” I rant as I swim around the table, “I have a mate picked out. If this blowfish hadn’t messed things up by kissing me, then Brody and I might already—”

“Enough!” Daddy’s echoing shout silences me. In his brook-no-dissent tone, he says, “Whatever the situation back on land, the fact is, you are bonded to this boy.” He glances at Quince, giving him a curt nod. “You are subject to the law and my rule. You will go through the Challenge before I grant your separation.” Then, just so I don’t mistake his meaning, he adds, “Assuming you have proven the unsuitability of the match.”

“What about Quince?” I ask, grasping at anything that might get me—us—out of this mess. “He can’t just disappear for a weekend. I mean, last weekend was bad enough, that was just a day—”

“I have already sent a messenger gull to Rachel, asking her to give an explanation to his mother.” Daddy gives me a stern look. “You will not get out of this Challenge.”

“The Challenge?” Quince asks. “What’s the Challenge?”

Calliope speaks up, finally. “It’s terribly romantic, actually,” she says, making swoony eyes. “You and the princess will be sent to a deserted island for the next two days, with only each other and brief visits from friends and family for company.”