In the Veins of the Drowning

“‘I do what His Majesty asks of me. […] I wear the dress that steals my air. I marry the captain—’ I cut myself off, suddenly aware. I looked up into Evander’s piercing eyes. ‘It’s what we do, isn’t it? Obey.’”

This passage illustrates Imogen’s resentment for following orders. This positions her as Theo’s opposite. He is in a position of power; she is in a position of submission. He believes duty and obedience should be willingly, happily offered, while Imogen desires nothing more than to shirk it. Nonetheless, she accepts her role until Theo finally offers her the opportunity to escape it, becoming a passive figure in Nemea’s world.

“‘It starts to wear on you, doesn’t it? Always doing what you’re told. Having no say.’ That shocked me. I wanted to say yes, yes, yes, but I was distracted by how badly I craved a full breath. I was distracted by the salt on my tongue, and how desperately I wanted more.”

This passage very subtly introduces the theme of The Corrupting Pursuit of Power. Early on, Imogen simply wants a life of freedom. Underneath this, however, are the dangers associated with having the amount of power that she has and the reality that she is starving for autonomy after a life of asceticism. Her desperation for power, even while innocent in intention, is dangerous due to the strength of that desire.

“I sat awake, eyes on the bolted door, a jewel-encrusted dagger gripped in my fist. […] King Nemea had gifted it to me on my seventeenth birthday. With its profuse jewels and blunted blade, it was more ornamental than deadly—like me, I thought. Even so, clinging to it through the night had given me a sense of safety.”

This gift is symbolic of the power, or lack thereof, that Imogen possesses. A blade is supposed to be a powerful weapon, but when dulled, it just becomes ornamental. Likewise, a Siren is supposed to be a powerful creature capable of luring men to their deaths, but without control over her power, she is a helpless victim to the men in her life. Despite this, she has nothing to cling to but the illusion of power, wishing she could have the real thing.

“It does not matter how powerful the ruler’s blood is. It does not matter that a ruler is good, or just, or fair. What matters is that they can keep hold of what is theirs, by whatever means necessary […] It is easy to be good when you’re blessed by the bloody fucking Gods. It’s when you are lowly, when you are nothing—like I was—that you learn to make your own power. And with it, you take what you’ve been denied.”

King Nemea illustrates how he has been corrupted in his pursuit of power. He serves Eusia, who experienced the same in her own pursuit of power. This same behavior is exemplified in the commander of his forces, Evander, showcasing how the same cycle is repeating. The resentment King Nemea has for those who have always been privileged is eerily similar to the resentment that Imogen initially holds for Theo and his ease and entitlement, which hints that she might follow the same path of corruption.

“His heavy body twitched against mine. As the beats of his heart slowed, so too did the pulsing current inside me. It ebbed, stopped. It left me feeling full, but not satiated. Now that I had tasted such control, such power, I understood why Evander had been so hungry for it. My mind returned to me fully once he was waterlogged and limp.”

The Corrupting Pursuit of Power is illustrated with nuance in this passage. Imogen’s actions in this scene are done out of self-defense and a desperation not only to survive but to be free from the control of others. However, when her power is used to eliminate the threat, it is “not satiated.” This foreshadows a slippery slope that can and will cause conflict in the future; it is the same slippery slope that created the nekgya and grew Eusia’s kingdom to what it now is.

“As I descended the stairs and passed Nemea’s throne room, I thought of the inscription upon its wall. The monster is always slain. I thought of Evander’s blank, blue-lipped face, and a pang of uncertainty struck me. Perhaps I was just as monstrous as he had been. Perhaps my own slaying was yet to come.”

Imogen grapples with her sense of self. Because she’s hidden her Siren nature for so long, she has no control over her power, which has caused her to kill the first person who discovered it. This inability to control herself leads her to wonder if she is a monster who deserves to be killed. The writing style here echoes the parallel she is drawing between herself and the idea of Sirens as monsters, as Cassidy repeats the sentence structure in the two final lines.

“The ship captain echoed the king, hurrying the sailors away. But I didn’t watch them go; I bent over the ship’s rail, not taking my burning eyes off the water. Though it frightened me to no end, though I dreaded what sort of monster it might make of me, I preferred its horrific mystery to what Theodore seemed so certain of.”

This passage captures the core of Imogen’s internal conflict—her simultaneous fear of and longing for the sea. The water represents both danger and truth, a reflection of the part of herself she’s been forced to repress. Cassidy uses this moment to show that Imogen’s search for belonging will always be tied to the unknown parts of herself she’s afraid to face.

“There were many misguided things I desired, and I suspected it would always be so. Just as sure as I was made of flesh and blood and bone and sea, I was also made of want. Excising it, draining it like a bad tumor, would never do, but this one time, with this one man, I could stop myself from being the fool.”

This passage reveals Imogen’s growing self-awareness that her instinctual prioritization of self can sometimes be a bad thing. Her acknowledgment that she is “made of want” dangerously connects her desperation for things to other characters’ desperation for power, which led them all down a path of corruption. Still, her attempt to resist it with Theodore foreshadows how her love for him will save her from this desperation. The structure here also signifies her change, as the quick flow of “flesh and blood and bone and sea” represents the unstoppable and overwhelming nature of her desires. Meanwhile, the halting, repetitive nature of the sentence that follows signifies the intention behind her decision to change.

“I’d always longed for power—for the right to a life I chose and a way to keep myself safe. But this…I could hardly breathe from the sudden weight of it.”

This passage marks the moment when Imogen realizes that gaining the freedom to choose for herself is a lot scarier than she first imagined. The liberation she dreamed for is a heavier burden than she expected. While Imogen cannot literally drown in the sea, because she is a Siren, she is metaphorically drowning on land under the pressure of her newfound responsibilities.

“‘I’m sure you won’t understand, but it’s rather a shock. To leave one’s home and come to a new one. Where nothing is familiar and there are no friends or sights or smells that you know. I’m grateful my mother—and His Majesty—have taken my comfort into such consideration.’ She gave Theodore a grateful look and he inclined his head in a regal bow. The swell of hurt I felt then did not come from the bond. It was true envy.”

This moment relates Princess Halla to Imogen. While Halla is first introduced as a foil, Imogen’s opposite in every way, this moment of understanding between them is the first time readers see similarities between the two. The envy Imogen feels at hearing that Halla has been greeted with consideration and found comfort in her new home with Theo is something Imogen herself yearns for yet doesn’t believe she’ll ever find.

“And when you feel like you’ve been whipped and thrown, if you let him, he will be an anchor.”

This line exemplifies Theodore’s role in Imogen’s journey. Though she claims to resent how resolute he is in his duties and how immovable this makes him, these are qualities she’s come to appreciate as someone whose life has always felt tumultuous. Calling Theo an “anchor” suggests safety, yet it also implies weight—something that grounds her but could also keep her from moving freely. It also reasserts Imogen’s connection to the sea, which physically and metaphorically can be overwhelming; presenting Theo as an anchor implies he could keep her ocean-bound fate from leading her astray.

“He turned from me and started toward the palace, but before he did so, I noted the flustered stain of color on his sharp cheekbones. The way his breath sped. Little glimpses of feeling that he didn’t—or couldn’t—control.”

This passage captures the subtle shift in Theodore’s controlled exterior and how closely Imogen observes it. The detail of his flushed cheeks and quickened breath exposes how much she’s already destabilized his perfect composure. This subtly exhibits the impact their characters are having on each other, but Imogen still can’t decide if he’s allowing her to have power over him or simply unable to control himself.

“You speak of desire like it’s an illness. Like I have infected you with it […] How dare you blame me. As if I’ve laid a trap for you, or as if it’s vile to want. I may be the object of your desire, but I am not its source.”

Imogen’s response to Theodore’s claims that she has completely thrown him off-kilter challenges the shame that has long defined both her power and her identity as a Siren. The irresistible allure of them has caused Sirens to be viewed with fear and disgust, but she is not willing to stand by and take the blame this time. Rather than accepting she is the problem, Imogen encourages Theo to look inside himself and discover if this desire was always just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

“My gaze slipped across the aisle to Theodore. He wore a clean but dirt-stained brown shirt, with patched trousers and scuffed boots, claiming it was best to look unassuming in the Varian wildlands. The lack of finery did nothing to diminish him. In fact, I preferred him like this. With his waving hair catching the light, and his threadbare clothes draping over his lean muscles.”

This moment shows Imogen beginning to see Theodore as a person rather than a king. Stripped of royal clothing and disheveled, he becomes approachable, someone she can look at without resentment. Her preference for his unadorned appearance is her acceptance of his true self, not the mask that he presents to the rest of the world. While this is a calculated act on Theo’s part, representing how well he knows his kingdom, it also creates a moment of vulnerability between them wherein Theo’s personality is less masked by his title.

“I don’t doubt meeting me made many things worse for you, but I wonder if it’s your responsibilities that make you so… surly. All that pressure you put on yourself […] You seem to like it out here. In the sun and dirt. I like you better out here too, I think.”

This moment shows Imogen recognizing the weight Theo carries beneath his composure and how different he becomes when not weighed down by his duty. Her observation lays Theodore uncomfortably bare yet highlights that the two are more similar than they first thought. Her preference for the unguarded version of him also signals a softening in her perspective.

“When the blood of the Great Gods runs through your veins, you don’t get to have what you want […] [My father] thought his divinity guaranteed him his every desire. And that made him callous and indulgent. It made him hurt others.”

Theo’s father’s downfall has become a warning he’s spent his life internalizing—that wanting and taking are dangerous when paired with authority and privilege. Cassidy uses this admission to explain Theo’s self-restraint and his fixation on duty. Control is his way of keeping those around him safe; threats to this control threaten that safety.

“I’ll tell you what I would do if I were still young and beautiful like you […] I would keep him. I’d use his power and body to keep myself safe. Your journey to sever your bond with Eusia will be dangerous. You’d be a fool to go it alone […] Damn the war I feel brewing in the water. You are a Goddess-queen. Take what you want while you can […] For someday you will be like me.”

Rohana’s advice reflects a worldview shaped by survival and pursuit of power rather than morality. Her words expose what happens when divinity and isolation stretch on long enough to erode empathy, just as Theo had warned Imogen of. Cassidy positions Rohana as a warning for Imogen—a version of what she could become if she makes the wrong choices. Revealing a more sympathetic element in her callousness, however, is Rohana’s specific use of the word “safe” rather than “powerful” or something similar; it implies that not all of her desires involve malice or selfishness, just as Imogen has often desired to be safe from the many dangers she faces.

“It means that you have been so tightly fucking wound for years. You’ve been perfect. Always in line—to the point that I started to wonder if there was something wrong with you […] And now—since her—you can’t make a sound choice to save your life.”

Lachlan’s outburst exposes how much Theo’s self-control has slipped since meeting Imogen. While he needed to loosen up, Lachlan fears Imogen is causing Theo to completely neglect his duties—and doing so could impact untold amounts of lives. While Lachlan and Theo have a definite bond, this speech also shows how the commander is willing to utterly bypass the regard he owes his king, using blunt and profane language to express how concerned and angry he is. This shows how Lachlan, much like Theo used to, prioritizes duty and moral uprightness over convention.

“My mind played cruel tricks too, showing me Lachlan’s face contorted, and Theodore’s etched with brutal worry. […] I decided then that the moment after our severing ritual was complete would be the last I would see Theodore. For I was as undiscerning as a storm, as ruinous as a tidal wave crashing, and I could never live with myself if he was caught in my devastation.”

This passage reveals Imogen’s growing fear of her own power and the destruction it’s foretold to bring—as well as the destruction it’s already caused. Her comparison to natural disasters shows that she no longer sees herself as containable—she’s a force that endangers what she loves without warning or reason. Cassidy uses this realization to prompt Imogen to self-sacrifice her own desires in order to protect her loved ones. It also returns to the motif of water. This shows how closely she links her identity to the sea from which she hails, even if she’s been largely kept away from it in life.

“I closed the book and looked at Theodore. He slept on his back—full lips parted, brow smooth. The entire world was stacked against us, but my body, my heart, did not seem to care. I had spent the whole of my life wondering what it might feel like to truly belong somewhere, and now I was starting to know.”

This moment captures Imogen’s brief experience of peace and belonging, which hasn’t come from a particular place but from her emotional connection to Theo. Despite the uncertainty surrounding them, she feels anchored for the first time in her life. Additionally, although Theo is sleeping, his description also betrays a peace he may face around her: He sleeps unguarded, his smooth brow contrasting the tension and concern he usually carries.

“Do you think we are fated to be as we always have been? You, blighted by fear, and me, devoutly, miserably dutiful. We were both fading away […] You have shone a light on me. You made me feel fury and terror and joy and longing. How do I curl myself back into the darkness after being so alive?”

Theo’s words reveal how deeply Imogen has disrupted his carefully monitored existence. For him, duty was his form of stability, but Imogen’s presence has introduced emotional subjectivity and a form of chaos that he is initially panicked by but eventually comes to relish. The description of his emotions structurally parallels her earlier fixation on “flesh and blood and bone and sea” (121), very passionate, physical things akin to the earnest and tumultuous emotions that he’s felt around her. They’re becoming more alike, their identities shifting to meet in the middle.

“All the ways you’ve terrorized me. You made me into what you wanted me to be—into what served you. You made me small and timid. You made me everything my mother was not so that you could use me.”

Imogen’s confrontation with Nemea exposes the emotional abuse that shaped her complacency throughout life. Cassidy uses this moment to show Imogen reclaiming her voice, her autonomy, and her freedom, rejecting the version of herself Nemea created and recognizing that her supposed weakness was never innate but taught.

“The impulse overtook me—to let myself fade, right there on the deck of Nemea’s bobbing ship. To let my death be the severance that finally brought an end to Eusia. But my selfishness was a stubborn, inextinguishable fire. My desire to live burned bright. I thought of Agatha and the danger she was in. Of Theodore, days away from marrying an enemy bride.”

This passage captures the moment Imogen chooses life, not only because it’s something she desires for herself, but because she has a duty to ensure the safety of her loved ones. Despite her long history of resenting anyone’s commitment to duty, viewing it as a shackle in its own right, this is not a duty that she resents, nor does she view it as a burden. The parallelism in the sentence structure—repeating “to let,” “my selfishness” versus “my desire,” and “of Agatha” and “Of Theodore”—emphasizes what a momentous occasion this is in her character development, a story beat that shouldn’t be rushed.