Mervidia by J.K. Barber

figuratively. Let them think they have an advantage, Kiva thought to herself with a suppressed smile. Others have thought me weak before, and it did not play out so well for them.
    “I support the motion, of course,” Hasad stated impatiently, drawing Kiva’s full attention. The seifeira representative vehemently nodded his head, causing the small tendril and glowing orb that sprouted from his forehead to bob with the motion. His red eyes looked around the chamber daring anyone to disagree with him. His muscles tensed beneath his blue, tattooed skin and his large frilled ears twitched with irritation. Hasad, being an eminently practical sort, apparently thought that the vote to formally instill Iago as temporary Regent was a waste of time.
    Such a simple merwin, Kiva thought, to hold such power. Hasad, the Domo of House Verdant, oversaw Mervidia’s largest kelp beds, the main source of food for the general populace. That leverage alone would have given him a great deal of sway over the city, but added to that was the fact that Verdant was the most powerful of the seifeira houses, which guaranteed Hasad a racial seat on the Coral Assembly, and the amount of the influence the merwin had was truly impressive. At heart, you are still just a farmer though, are you not Hasad? You never really take your eyes from the thermal vents that feed your precious plants to see the larger ocean all around you. Kiva’s smile grew by a miniscule amount; she knew that Hasad’s power was subject to her own more subtle and insidious influence.
    “As do the jellod,” Nayan intoned, her voice soft, almost a whisper. Where Hasad’s head had bobbed with exuberance, the older jellod’s dipped gracefully in one measured nod of acquiescence. Her yellow drape of finely woven kelp fibers barely stirred on her shoulders.
    Kiva had to fight hard to keep her inward smile from becoming a full grin on her small face. Feeling a little superfluous today, are we Nayan? Could not save the Queen, despite all your grand powers to decide life and death? Such a shame. Kiva focused on the pink starfish that the jellod representative wore in her black hair to avoid the subtle sadness she saw in Nayan’s milky eyes. Despite her distaste for the machi’s inflated sense of self-importance, Kiva gave Nayan a healthy measure of respect. The jellod had managed to ingratiate herself nicely with the Divine Family, giving her a significant amount of influence over all of Mervidia, not just the jellods whom she represented.
    “We, the faera, also support Iago as temporary regent, until such time as the Assembly can decide on a suitable course of action following the untimely death of our beloved Queen,” Kiva said in a somber voice. She bowed her head in a genuine show of unhappiness. “In peace the assassin’s blade does not grow dull,” she reminded herself of the old saying. With Beryl dead, the odds of open conflict amongst the houses grew more likely, and the shadowy services of Kiva’s House Perna would be in less demand. “With conflict comes opportunity” though, she reminded herself. Secrets were still valuable, regardless of the political climate, and the faera had plenty of secrets available for the right price. Kiva placed a webbed hand over her mouth, ostensibly in grief. In truth, her hand, adorned with elegant green tattoos and pearl rings, hid her smirk at all the opportunities that lay before her, no matter which way the tide turned. I will come out better than before, she thought. As I always do. She raised her head and smoothed the strands of green kelp woven into her sandy colored hair, as if to compose herself. She looked up just in time to see Iago’s jaw grow tighter at the mention of his wife’s death. That is not the only knife I have to twist, Lord Regent.
    “As always, the neondra support the will of the Coral Assembly,” Slone of House Tigin, intoned in his usual pompous way, “especially in this grievous and tumultuous time.”