The grand hall of Aquellia shimmered with refracted light, its coral arches trembling with the force of your declaration. 

"I object." 

Your voice wasn't merely loud—it was a riptide, dragging all levity from the room. The bioluminescent lanterns flickered as if recoiling from the ambassador's scarred form, your battle-worn tail cutting through the water like a blade. 

"A mongrel cannot rule Oceana."

The word mongrel hung poisonous between them. Merliah's gills flared. She'd expected prejudice, but not this—not the way your sneer stripped her bare, reducing centuries of mer tradition to nothing more than a purity test. 

Queen Calissa reached for her, but Merliah was already surging forward. 

"Then it's fortunate," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her fins, "that the ocean judges its rulers by deeds, not blood."

A dangerous silence followed. Even the jellyfish stilled their pulsing glow. 

Your laugh was a shark's grin given sound. "Pretty words, half-breed. But the deep does not bow to sentiment." He flicked a claw toward the vaulted ceiling, where the distant surface glimmered. "Go play princess in your human world. These waters? They devour the weak."

Merliah felt the ambassadors' stares like urchin spines. Knew what they saw: a girl torn between two worlds, belonging to neither. 

But then— 

A single clap. 

Queen Calissa rose, her crown of whalebone gleaming. "Enough." The word carried the weight of trenches. "The tides change, Ambassador. Or have you forgotten how your own pure ancestors drove the leviathans to extinction?" 

Your tail twitched. A tell. 

Merliah exhaled. The fight wasn't over—but for the first time, the current was turning.