As King Irron stands upright, his expression begins to lose its charm and is replaced with what Mora guesses to be his true self, "Why Princess Namora, I am afraid I don't understand," he says flatly.

"Oh you don't?" The frigid sarcasm in her voice is obvious. She turns from Irron to look at his guards, searching from face to face. Though they all look different, they share the same blank eyes. Finally, she spots the one she is looking for; his face is dotted with healing scratches and though he sits tall on his horse his right arm seems to rest awkwardly at his side. Frankly, she is surprised...