I have made a decision.
A powerful one. A mature one. A leader-level decision.
It has been three full rotations of the tide since I first saw her, and I have not known peace.
Every time I close my eyes, I see pale sand and white hair moving in the wind like moonlight deciding to take shape. I see her kneeling at the tide as though the sea itself reports to her. I have attempted distraction. Ilu training. Sparring. Competitive diving. None of it has worked.
The Moon remains.
Therefore, I will handle this correctly.
I find my father at the edge of the reef where he inspects new spearheads. I approach with confidence. Calm. Purpose.
“Father,” I begin, lowering my voice to what I believe is a statesman’s tone. “I wish to discuss diplomacy.”
He does not look up immediately. “You are rarely the source of diplomacy.”
“I am evolving.”
That earns me a glance.
I clasp my forearm over my chest. “I have decided that I wish to pursue formal alliance with the Ta’unui.”
His expression does not change. “Through what means.”
“Marriage.”
Silence.
The reef wind moves between us.
He studies me slowly. “Explain.”
I lift my chin. This is my moment.
“I have observed their daughter. Multiple times. With respect.”
“Have you.”
“She is spiritually powerful. Politically valuable. Moon-adjacent.”
My father closes his eyes briefly.
“I believe,” I continue boldly, “that uniting our clans through arranged marriage would strengthen trade, increase tidal cooperation, and secure future reef stability.”
“You are seventeen.”
“I am nearly fully grown.”
“You nearly drowned attempting a dramatic ilu landing last week.”
“That was strategic display.”
He exhales.
I press forward. “I cannot stop thinking about her. This suggests importance.”
“That suggests infatuation.”
“It suggests destiny.”
I step closer, lowering my voice. “Father. I respectfully request permission to seek formal audience with the Ta’unui Olo’eyktan.”
“For what purpose.”
“To state my intention to wed the Moon Beauty.”
There. It is said.
The wind seems to stop.
My father stares at me as though I have proposed raiding the sky people alone.
“You do not even know if she wishes to look at you.”
“She has looked at me.”
“When.”
“Once.”
“And this was sufficient.”
“It was transformative.”
He rubs his brow.
I straighten further. “If arranged marriage is the appropriate method, I will accept it. If political alignment is required, I will endure it. If trade concessions must be negotiated, I will personally gather coral resin. Whatever path leads to me standing beside her, I am prepared.”
“You are speaking of a future Tsahìk.”
“Yes.”
“You are proposing alliance based on your inability to calm yourself.”
“Yes.”
“You are not ready.”
I bristle slightly. “How does one become ready for the Moon? By waiting?”
“By growing.”
“I can grow quickly.”
“That is not how growth works.”
I exhale sharply, pacing once. “Father. I am serious. I do not see her as a prize. I see her as…” I struggle for the correct word. “…balance.”
That gives him pause.
“She is still,” I continue more quietly. “She stands and the water listens. I am not still. But I could be better.”
He watches me carefully now.
“I will not embarrass you,” I add quickly. “At least not intentionally. I will approach properly. With ceremony. With gifts. With respect.”
“And if she refuses.”
My confidence falters for half a breath.
“Then I will endure it,” I say, though the idea feels like physical injury.
He studies me for a long moment.
“You are not arranging a marriage,” he says finally.
I inhale sharply.
“Not yet.”
Hope flares.
“You may request formal introduction through proper channels. You will not speak of marriage. You will not declare destiny. You will not call her Moon Beauty in council.”
I nod vigorously.
“But Father,” I add cautiously, “if in time it becomes appropriate…?”
He sighs deeply.
“If in time you prove yourself worthy of standing beside someone like her, then we will speak again.”
This is not refusal.
This is challenge.
I grin.
“Excellent,” I declare. “I will begin .."