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out over the crowd, trying to make eye contact with as many rulers as I can. “That is why we have called you here. To ask for pledges of support. What Acroporans need most right now are food and first aid, but that will only help in the short run. They also need long-term assistance in the form of broader trade routes and refuge in other kingdoms and, ultimately, in rebuilding their ecosystem.”
    I clasp my hands together as I finish, proud of myself for making it all the way to the end of my thoughts without stumbling once. I look out eagerly at the room.
    It feels like an eternity before anyone responds. My heart beats faster, and I have to squeeze my hands tighter to keep them from shaking. I’m facing down the most powerful merfolk in my corner of the ocean—and their entourages—and they’re looking at me like I’ve asked for a great white-themed birthday party.
    When someone—Queen Dumontia, of course—finally speaks, I twirl to face her with equal parts anticipation and fear.
    I shouldn’t have bothered with the anticipation.
    â€œHow dare you?” she demands, and I swear I can feel her chill all the way across the table. “To ask for generosity in times such as these? Acropora is not the only kingdom suffering the effects of environmental change.”
    â€œNo, it’s not.”
    â€œSo are we.”
    â€œUs too.”
    As several kings and queens chime in, I glance around the table. “What do you mean?”
    â€œThe polar ice caps are melting,” Dumontia says. “The saline concentration in our waters is fluctuating, and the plankton at the base of our food chain is dying. All levels of our ecosystem are suffering subtle but ultimately catastrophic changes.”
    â€œI—I’m sorry,” I say, focusing on sounding intelligent and not standing there slack-jawed at the confession. “I didn’t know.”
    I mean, of course I knew about melting polar ice caps. Everyone who’s taken a science class in the last decade knows about melting polar ice caps. But I hadn’t made the connection between that and the northern mer kingdoms.
    I should have realized.
    â€œPerhaps we can help you, too,” I suggest.
    â€œAnd what about Desfleurelle?” King Zostero asks. “That pipeline leak was far worse than the human news reported. Millions of gallons of oil flooded our waters, drowning surface species and coating acres of marine life with an oily film.”
    â€œYou have received aid,” Daddy says, and I’m grateful for him stepping in to help. “From several kingdoms, including Acropora. Can you not return the favor?”
    â€œA reluctant handout,” Zostero counters. “Your kingdom’s leftovers.”
    â€œThe oil reached our kingdom as well,” the queen of Costa Solara chimes in. “None sent aid to us.”
    â€œThat little spill is nothing to the overfishing in our kingdoms,” the queen of Nephropida adds. “Every year, finding enough food to feed my people becomes more and more difficult. Not only in my kingdom’s waters, but in Trigonum and Rosmarus as well.”
    The kings of those two kingdoms nod in agreement.
    â€œPerhaps you should not have cut off trading with all kingdoms in the south,” Daddy argues.
    â€œYou are so naive,” Dumontia says to me, ignoring everyone else in the room as their voices escalate, “to think you could call this meeting and hold out your hand to help your boyfriend.”
    â€œHe’s not my—”
    â€œTo think one kingdom is in any greater need than another,” she interrupts. “It is pure fantasy.”
    â€œI didn’t mean that—”
    â€œWhat do you know of the mer world anymore?”
    â€œYou’ve been living on land too long.”
    â€œYou’ve grown out of touch.”
    â€œNow that is unfair,” Daddy argues.
    The other voices are growing so loud that I