The next morning, Juvia's eyes fluttered open to warm sunlight spilling across her skin and the distant song of birds greeting the new day. For a moment, she didn't remember where she was.
Then her gaze drifted upward—and she froze.
Rose-gold light shimmered across the ceiling, catching on delicate details she wasn't used to seeing in a room that belonged to her. Everything around her felt almost unreal: silk sheets draped across a four-poster bed, floral lace curtains swaying gently in the morning breeze, and soft golden accents that glowed as though the room itself had been touched by sunrise.

She sat up slowly, almost afraid the moment might vanish if she moved too quickly. When she finally swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet met polished floor instead of the familiar weight of water. That alone was still strange. She crossed the room and pushed open the tall windows.

Cool morning air rushed in, and she stepped out onto the balcony. Below her stretched the horizon—endless sea meeting sky as the sun rose in brilliant shades of gold and pink. The light scattered across the water in glittering shards, as if the ocean itself had been sprinkled with jewels.
Juvia's breath caught. She had spent so many years beneath waves that filtered the world into muted blues and shifting shadows. Sunlight had always been something distant—something others spoke about, something she could only imagine.

Now it bathed her face directly, warm and real. For so long, she had longed to see the sun as humans did. At last, she was seeing it for herself.

"Good morning, dear." Ur greeted her with a gentle creak of the door.

She stepped inside carrying a tray balanced carefully in her hands. Behind her followed two maids, each holding a collection of beautifully tailored dresses—finely stitched fabrics that shimmered even in the soft morning light.

"I'm glad to see you're already awake," Ur said warmly.

Juvia blinked, still half-dazed by the sunlight and the unfamiliar comfort of the room.

"Today is a very important day," Ur continued as she set the tray down. "A princess from a far-off country is arriving to stay with us."

She sighed lightly, already anticipating the politics behind it.

"No doubt another one of Lahar's attempts to marry her off to the prince. It'll probably end the same way as all the others."

At those words, something in Juvia tightened.
A princess? Coming here? Her thoughts spiraled instantly. What if Gray fell in love with her?
What if he chose her instead? A wave of anxious fear settled in her chest. The princess would surely be perfect—beautiful, elegant, well-spoken. Everything Juvia was not allowed to be seen as. Technically, she was a princess too, but no one here knew that. To them, she was just a quiet, nameless girl. Why would Gray ever look at her instead?

"I don't know why Lahar puts Gray through this," Ur said as she poured tea into a delicate cup. "It only embarrasses him. He should just leave the boy alone and let him marry when he's ready. But what do I know? I'm only a lowly servant."

She gave a small shrug, then turned her attention back to Juvia. Breakfast was served in bed, warm and carefully arranged. While Juvia ate quietly, Ur and the maids prepared her for the day. One of the dresses was selected—a form-fitting periwinkle gown made of soft muslin that caught the light with every movement. Ur adjusted it with practiced hands, then gently styled Juvia's hair into a half-up, half-down arrangement, tied with a ribbon of violet silk. When she stepped back, she smiled with satisfaction.

"You look simply darling," Ur said. "And this dress will be perfect for tonight. The skirt is light and flowing—perfect for dancing."

Just when she thought her nerves couldn't possibly worsen.

"Dancing?" Juvia echoed internally, panic rising like a tide. She had never danced a day in her life. She had only gained legs and feet yesterday, and even walking still felt like something she had to consciously think about. How was she supposed to dance?

"What event is that again, Ur?" one of the maids asked while adjusting the dresses.

"Just a dinner and a concert to welcome the sultan and his daughter," Ur replied calmly. "Lahar arranged the whole thing. The cooks are preparing their finest dishes, the kingdom's best musicians will perform, and he's even brought in renowned singers."

"He is certainly going all out for this one."

"Well, she is the last suitable prospect for a bride," another maid mused. "Though in my opinion, he's wasting his time. He'll just turn her down like he did the others."

"Because the only girl he wants is the one he made up in his head," the other maid added with a teasing grin.

"Enough," Ur snapped immediately. "Do not disrespect the prince in such a way."

"I meant no harm, Ur," the maid said quickly, "but you must admit his obsession with her is—"

"Is none of your business," Ur cut in sharply. "Now be gone. Both of you. Before I forget I'm a lady and lose my temper."

The maids exchanged quick glances, then hurried out of the room. Ur exhaled, smoothing her expression before turning back to Juvia. Her tone softened.

"Please don't listen to the rumors of the women here," she said gently. "They're notorious gossips and rarely know what they're talking about."

Juvia nodded slightly, though her thoughts were already tangled.

"They like to tease him," Ur continued, "because he became enamored with a young maiden who saved him from drowning and then vanished without a trace."

Juvia froze.

"Lahar insists she isn't real," Ur said, pouring herself a small cup of tea, "but Gray swears she is. And he hasn't been able to think of anything—or anyone—else since."

The words struck Juvia like lightning. Gray didn't forget her. He hadn't dismissed her as a dream or illusion. He believed she was real. And worse—or better—he had been thinking of her all this time just as she had thought of him.

Juvia's hands slowly tightened against the fabric of her dress.

If only she still had her voice.  She would run to her darling prince right now and tell him everything. Tell him that she had saved him, that she had never stopped thinking about him for a single day.  And then what would he do?
Would he hold her? Would he kiss her? Would he tell her he felt the same? Would he love her enough to marry her?

"I guess I'll have to win his love with something other than my voice," she thought quietly. "But what else is there? All my life, my singing has been the only thing that made me feel special. It's my only charm. Without it, I'm just a strange girl. Nothing remarkable at all."

Still, she couldn't give up. Not now. Not when she had finally come this far. Falling in love and being loved in return was never simple. But if there was one thing she shared with her brother, it was determination. That stubborn refusal to surrender without giving her very best effort.

Her fingers drifted to the small necklace resting against her collarbone.

"Oh, Gajeel..." she thought softly. "I miss you. I miss our family already. I wish you were here with me."

...

In the underwater kingdom beneath Verdenshav, Gajeel was beside himself with worry. Ever since his argument with Juvia, there had been no sign of her—or Panther Lily. Not from their sisters, not from Levy, not from the palace servants, and not from any corner of his kingdom. When Juvia failed to appear for breakfast that morning, he had immediately ordered a search party. His guards had combed every tideway and current, every reef and trench. But it was as if both the little mermaid and the sea cat had simply vanished into thin water.

"Any sign of them?" Gajeel asked sharply as Ren returned with the latest report.

"No, Your Majesty," Ren replied, bowing his head. "We've searched everywhere. There's still no trace of your sister or Panther Lily."

"Then keep looking!" Gajeel snapped. "Tell the others they are not to rest until she's safe at home!"

"Yes, sire. I give you my word—we won't stop searching."

"And Ren—" Gajeel hesitated only briefly. "Tell Sherry to come home. I don't want her out there this late."

"I already tried, sir," Ren admitted. "She refuses. She says she won't return until Juvia is found. I'm staying with her, though. I'll make sure she's safe."

Gajeel exhaled slowly, the tension in his jaw easing just slightly.

"Thank you."

Ren left, returning to the coordinated chaos of the search effort, where guards and nobles alike moved through the kingdom in anxious waves.
Elsewhere, Sherry stood firm despite Ren's gentle urging.

"You really should rest, my love," Ren said softly. "Let us handle the search."

"No," Sherry insisted immediately. "She's my little sister. She's out there alone. I can't eat, I can't sleep—I can't do anything until I know she's safe. I don't think I can even get married until she's back. Forgive me, Ren... I know that isn't fair to you."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Ren replied, drawing her into a careful embrace. "I know you couldn't possibly smile on our wedding day without all your sisters there. I'll wait as long as it takes."

"You're too good to me," she whispered, holding onto him tightly.

Farther within the palace, Meredy and Chelia sat together in their chambers, both overcome with tears while Levy tried her best to comfort them.

"There, there," Levy said gently. "It'll be alright. They'll find Juvia. I know they will."

"But what could have happened to her?" Meredy sobbed. "Was she kidnapped?"

"She must've been!" Chelia sniffled. "She wouldn't just leave for no reason... would she?"

"Of course not!" Gajeel's voice suddenly cut in as he entered the room. "What reason would she have to leave? I know things have been rough lately, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. Nothing so bad that she would leave."

"W-Well... actually," Meredy stammered, a dawning realization washing over her.

"Well actually what?" Gajeel pressed. "Do you know something?"

"I... I..." Her voice trembled, weighed down by emotion. "She never told me, but I... I always suspected..."

"Suspected what?" Gajeel urged, his intensity growing. "Meredy, if you know anything—anything at all—you have to tell us!"

"I would hear our people whisper about her. They would tease and ridicule her," she choked back a sob. "They called her a disgrace to our family. Juvia never spoke up... so I didn't say anything. I thought it wasn't that serious, but maybe it was. Maybe it got so overwhelming that she couldn't bear it any longer. I'm so sorry! If I had said something, maybe she would still be here!"

"It's not your fault," Gajeel said immediately, though his voice was strained. "It's not like we ever did anything to make her—"

He stopped. The words died in his throat. A sudden realization crashed over him like a tidal wave. His eyes widened slightly, then sharpened with alarm.

"What is it, dear?" Levy asked quietly.

But at that moment, Gajeel couldn't speak.
He simply floated there in stunned silence, as if the weight of his own thoughts had physically pinned him in place. His expression shifted—shock, then horror, then something hollow and unsteady. Without another word, he slowly turned and drifted out of the room, moving as though the water itself had turned too heavy to bear. Levy immediately followed.

"Darling, what is it?" she asked gently, reaching for his hand. "What's wrong?"

Gajeel's voice came out strained, barely steady.

"I called her a threat to our family."

Levy froze. "You what?"

"I didn't mean it," he said quickly, the words spilling out now. "I was angry. I was scared—she told me she loved a human, and I panicked. I thought she'd die like Mother and Father did, and I..." His voice cracked. "Oh, dear God... what have I done?"

He looked at Levy, eyes wide with dawning panic.

"If what Meredy says is true, then Juvia has spent her entire life afraid she'd ruin us. And I just confirmed it. I proved it to her."

His breath hitched.

"Oh, Levy... it's my fault. She's gone because of me."

For the first time since Metalicana and his wife had passed, Levy saw him truly break. Tears welled in his eyes, and the strength he always carried for others finally gave way. He sank slightly, overwhelmed, as grief and guilt poured through him all at once. Levy immediately wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close and cradling his head against her shoulder.

"How could I do this?" Gajeel choked out. "I promised them—our parents—I promised I'd never let anything happen to either of my sisters. That I'd protect them, keep them safe, make them happy... They'd be ashamed of me."

"Hey," Levy said firmly, though her voice was soft. "That's not true."

"Yes it is!" he snapped, though weakly.

"No, it's not," she insisted, holding him tighter. "You know it's not. Your mother and father wouldn't blame you for this. They wouldn't expect you to fix every problem or know exactly what to say every time."

Gajeel shook his head. "I'm the oldest. It's my responsibility."

"You do the best you can," Levy said, steady and unwavering. "And you've sacrificed so much for this kingdom—for your family. You gave up your youth, your freedom, even your own dreams just to be there for them. That's not failure, Gajeel. That's love."

Her grip tightened slightly.

"Your parents would be proud of that. Not ashamed."

Gajeel still couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed his parents.

The words lingered in his mind like a current that refused to settle, pulling him deeper no matter how hard he tried to surface. Levy stayed close beside him, her arms still around him, her presence steady and warm in a way he desperately needed.

Things had been changing. Slowly, almost peacefully, it had seemed like life was finally settling into place. Sherry's wedding plans were moving forward. Meredy and Juvia were growing into themselves. Chelia was entering into womanhood with grace. It had finally felt like the kingdom was becoming calm again. Like Gajeel might finally, finally be able to breathe.

And then  Juvia had vanished.

Levy lowered her gaze slightly, her expression soft but conflicted. There was something she hadn't told him yet. Something she had been holding onto, waiting for the right moment—one that suddenly felt impossible to find in the middle of all this fear and chaos. She and Gajeel had always spoken about children. Someday. When things were stable. When his sisters were safe, grown, and no longer needed constant protection. They had agreed to wait until Chelia turned sixteen.

But nature had not waited for them. Levy's hand drifted instinctively to her stomach, almost protective, almost uncertain. She was pregnant.
And she had been so happy when she found out—so certain that this would be a joyful moment they would share together. She had imagined telling him over a quiet, romantic dinner. Something simple. Something warm.

But now as she looked at Gajeel—broken by guilt, convinced he had failed everyone she loved—she wasn't sure how to tell him. Not when he already looked like the world might collapse under him at any moment. Levy closed her eyes briefly, steadying herself.

"God in Heaven," she whispered silently, her voice barely more than breath. "Please... watch over Juvia and bring her back to us soon."