ONE OF THE ladies took Lenia’s arm, steadying her, and they led her back to the princess’s rooms, at the west end of the castle. As they walked, Lenia looked around in amazement: at the massive tapestries hanging from the stone walls, at the silver statues of gods and goddesses, the flickering torches. She recognized some of the objects from similar items in shipwrecks, though she’d seen such things only covered in the murk of sea and decay, and here everything was immaculate, almost unreal-seeming. And in each hallway and room she looked for the prince. They walked by men and women of all types, some smartly dressed and at leisure, others hard at work, cleaning or cooking or hauling in supplies, all of them eyeing Lenia and bowing to the princess, who had a habit of tilting her head and raising her thin red brows at the handsome men and ignoring almost everyone else. The other ladies followed suit.
Outside one room, Lenia stopped, almost gasped out loud when she saw the figure of a beautiful, bleeding man hanging from a cross on the wall. The same cross shape she’d seen above the building by the icy sea, where she’d met Margrethe. Who was this man?
“Did you want to see the priest?” Katrina asked, watching Lenia.
Lenia shook her head, embarrassed, and they continued through the corridors, up a set of winding stairs that led to a hallway with a series of rooms in it, and stopped in what was clearly the grandest of them all, a large room filled with feminine ephemera—long golden necklaces and rich powders and perfumes and headpieces scattered across the top of a bureau, jewel-studded dresses hanging in an open wardrobe with designs carved along its edges. In the center of the room was a large bed with dark silk curtains hanging down on all sides. Lenia had seen something like it before, though broken and rotted and cradling two decayed corpses.
“Sit here,” Katrina said, leading Lenia to the bed, pulling back the shining curtain. She set down her instrument and bow on the mattress.
Lenia sank down onto the bed. She had never felt anything so supple and shivered with delight despite herself. She crossed her legs under her and, for the first time, found some relief.
“They are heating water for you,” Katrina said. “So you can have a bath. You look like you have not been bathed in a while. After, it will be time to eat, which will also do you good.”
“I wonder what happened to her clothes,” one of the ladies said. “Surely she had beautiful clothes once. Imagine the dress you’d wear with a necklace like that.”
“I know,” Katrina said. “You’d think she was a queen.” She picked up her instrument. “Shall we play?”
They all took up their instruments and sat prettily on the couches at the far end of the room.
The most strange and plaintive sounds moved through the air. Lenia’s head shot up, and she watched the group of women pulling bows across the small instruments resting on their shoulders. She could feel every note vibrating in her, as if it were being played on her own body.
There was a knock on the door. “Her bath is ready, Your Highness,” a servant said.
“Go,” said Katrina, gesturing to Lenia and then to the servant. “Be sure to put her in something that will show off the necklace.” She turned back to the ladies. “My mother will love her,” she said, and something in her tone put Lenia on edge.
“I know who will love her more,” another replied.
“Let’s hope so.”
Lenia heard the girls burst into giggles as the door clicked shut behind her. The servant led Lenia to a smaller room, where a large tub of steaming water was waiting, along with another female servant. At first Lenia just stared at the tub. She had never seen water before like this. Not seawater but dull water, without fish or salt or plants. Without even thinking, she backed away.
Gently, one of the servants removed Lenia’s jacket and shawl, and motioned for her to step in. “We are only bathing you,” the servant said. “Go on now.”
Lenia took a breath. She stretched out her leg and was so dazzled by the sight of her bare foot she almost lost her balance, and had to grab the side of the tub to steady herself. She laughed at how ridiculous she was, and laughed harder when she looked up at the servants’ confused faces.
Then she cleared her throat, steeled herself, and stepped in, submerging her foot in the bath. She was surprised at how warm it was, how lovely it felt. She wiggled her toes and moved her leg up and down. When the servant motioned to her, she stepped into the tub and sat in the water, letting it come up to her neck.
She was surprised by how much it soothed her. The muscles in her body loosened, blissfully, until her legs almost didn’t hurt. She leaned her head back. It was not at all like being in the ocean. It was something entirely new, not unlike the feel of the fabric the old woman had placed on her. This new skin felt so much. Even her aching mouth was soothed by the steam rising up.
The servants washed her hair and her skin, giving each other confused looks as the beautiful, mute stranger reveled in every sensation. They did not know what to make of her. The way she laughed as the water splashed and the sound echoed against the walls. As if she had never before bathed, never heard bathwater splashing.
After, the servants dried her off, rubbed oil into her skin, and dressed her in a long ruby red dress that laced up the back. They combed her hair and dried it—she had never felt her hair dry before, moving her palms over its silken texture, running her fingers through the strands—and wove white flowers through it. Lenia remained still the whole time, letting every new sensation pass over her. Every touch and tug of hair, every bit of fabric that fell or rubbed against her skin. After a while, she was able to contain herself, at least so that the servants did not think she was entirely mad. Perhaps only half mad, Lenia thought and smiled to herself.
When they were finished, they led her over to the heavy glass that stood in the corner of the room.
She was shocked to see her own face staring back. She thought immediately of the glass in her mother’s palace, and for a moment, a split second, her heart ached for home.
But as quickly as it had appeared, the feeling went away.
She looked … human, like a real human girl. She no longer looked like herself, though she had the same face, the same blue eyes and moon hair, twisted up now and hanging in shiny, bouncing tendrils down the sides of her face, but her skin was soft and blank, a sort of pale beige color. She looked just as she’d thought she might look the day after her eighteenth birthday. It suited her, this human skin. Would her sisters even recognize her, if they could see her now? She imagined Thilla with legs and human skin like this, and the thought made her gasp with amusement. No, she decided. They would recognize her only if they knew to look. If only she could see them once more, just to show them.
And what would they say about the red dress that covered her chest and arms, matching the necklace perfectly, causing the bright red stone to gleam, and flaring down to her pale, perfect feet? The servants had covered her feet in sandals that revealed her toes. Her toes! Which she could not help but stare at and wiggle.
And then her thoughts moved from her sisters to him, the prince, who was right now somewhere within these walls. What would he think when he saw her? For the first time she felt a twinge of nervousness. Would he find her beautiful in this human form? Would he remember her, love her?
When the confused servants finally returned Lenia to the princess and her ladies, Katrina clapped and squealed with glee. They were giddier now. “You were right about my brother,” she said, turning to the others. “Maybe our new friend is just what he needs. I miss how he used to be. Nobody is fun around here anymore.”
“We all miss him,” one of the ladies said, pretending to swoon. “And everyone speaks of his great change.”
“He’s already had his fun with you, I’m afraid,” Katrina said, and Lenia noticed the girl wincing slightly—she felt the sting of pain as if it were an arrow shooting through the room. “But this one, he will not be able to resist. Look at her.”
“Why can’t she speak, an
yway?” one of the others asked.
“I would love to find out,” Katrina said, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Lenia so long that Lenia looked away, feeling herself blush for the first time.
AS THEY ENTERED the dining hall for the afternoon meal, all eyes turned to Lenia. For a moment, she panicked, her heart racing in her chest as if she were standing right there in front of all of them with her fish tail exposed. She glanced down at her hands, her skin, to reassure herself.
The king and queen and some other nobles were sitting at the head of the long room, on a raised platform. The rest of the tables extended the length of the hall and were nearly full.
Lenia had never seen so many humans all together, not since the shipwreck on the night of her birthday. Everyone was alive, beautiful, their skin glowing in the candlelight, and the faces that looked back at her were more interested than anything else. She scanned the room quickly for the prince, terrified, suddenly, she would not recognize him, though she had thought of him every day since her birthday a few weeks before.
Katrina gestured for her to sit with the others, while she took her place at the king’s table. Lenia moved to one of the benches, surrounded by young men who stood and bowed.
The smell of the meat hit Lenia. She felt human hunger for the first time, searing from her gut. The odor of cooking flesh repulsed her, but her body responded so strongly she almost lost her balance as she maneuvered herself onto the bench. What a strange thing this body was, shifting around every new taste and smell.
One day this will all be normal, she thought, and the sea will seem as foreign as all these things do now.
One servant set a plate of meat and bread in front of her, while another poured wine. She took a long sip, wincing when it hit her sore mouth. But as it went down her throat, she found she did not mind the sharpness of it, the way she could feel it move into the center of her body.
All around her, people talked and laughed. Musicians came into the room, and a cacophony of sound erupted from them. It was so much, all at once, she could not focus on anything but the wine, the meat, the strange, intense way this body experienced hunger, how she would be able to eat this food with no tongue. She watched as the others brought the meat to their mouths and chewed and she held a small piece to her own lips. The taste blocked out everything else. Both awful and delicious, she thought, letting her teeth sink into the meat. She chewed and had to use her fingers to help get the morsels down her throat.
Though she was focused on eating, adjusting to this mouth with no tongue, this cooked animal flesh, the moment the prince entered the hall, Lenia knew. All her fears had been unfounded. Every cell of her body felt him.
She looked up, and there he was, the same man she had seen drowning in the water, so helpless and afraid as his men died around him. But now he was strong, ferocious. He was tall, his body full and muscled, his skin and hair touched with sun gold. There was not an ounce of fear in him now, not an ounce of dying. He looked like the son of a king.
Any glimmer of the sea left in her, everything she was now and had ever been—all of it turned to him. Do you remember me? she thought. In the water? Do you remember? It is me. I have come here for you.
His eyes went to her immediately, and he stopped, stood frozen. He was dressed in hunting clothes, his hair disheveled. On his skin, she could see the shimmer she’d left. It was barely there, but she could see it. Where she’d kissed him, where she’d moved her palm over his skin.
Everyone turned to watch the prince as he stood unmoving. After a long moment, he seemed to become conscious, suddenly, of how awkward he looked and how much attention he was attracting.
He laughed it off. “And who is this mysterious new lady who has so bewitched me with one look?” he asked, addressing the room at large.
“Ah, Brother, I expected no less,” Katrina said, leaving the king’s table and marching down to meet him. “This is my new friend. She cannot speak, see. Which makes her perfect for one so rich in words as yourself.”
The king laughed, and everyone followed suit. “It would seem your sister knows you and your needs better than the king and queen do,” he said.
Lenia watched as Katrina took Christopher’s arm and led him to her. “And this is … Well, since she cannot speak, she cannot tell us what her name is. If she has one at all. What shall we call her?”
Christopher laughed along with the others, good-naturedly. “It is as if you emerged from my deepest heart,” he said to Lenia, in an exaggerated manner, going along with the game, as he neared her. “I am certain that I have dreamt you here.”
Yes, Lenia thought. Hadn’t he?
He looked at her, tilting his head. “Would you like me to name you, O fair-haired one?”
She smiled, nodded. Yes. Without thinking, she held out her hands to him, and he smiled, surprised at her forwardness, and took them, kneeling down beside the table.
“I say we call her Astrid,” he said. “Because she is so fair, and beautiful.”
“Perfect,” Katrina said. “Astrid it is.”
Astrid, she repeated to herself, turning the name over in her mind.
His skin on hers felt electric, magical, shrinking her body to the one place where they touched, then expanding it again as the feeling moved throughout. The rush of excitement and love. And through his playfulness, through the laughter surrounding them, through his own brilliant smile, she could see that he remembered. Maybe not consciously, but there was something inside of him, a knowledge that they’d met before.
Do you remember how I carried you through the sea? How strong I was then?
“Is it true you cannot speak?” he asked. His was voice soft now.
Lenia nodded, overcome. Even being in love felt different now. The sensation of his hands on hers … He was no longer overwhelmingly soft and warm and fragile. Now he was strong, beautiful, alive. She could smell him, feel him. Her body reacted to him the way it had to the dinner feast, with a need she could never have imagined in her mermaid form.
“Would you like to take a walk with me?” he asked. “I will cancel my hunt this afternoon and stay with you. Would you like that?”
She looked up, met the eyes of Katrina and some of the others. They were all smiling, listening intently, though by now some of the other diners had gone back to their meals and the king seemed to have forgotten them altogether.
“Go,” Katrina said. “Do not feel obligated to remain with us. My brother will take good care of you.”
Lenia smiled, ecstatic. She nodded. Yes. He was right there, next to her, looking at her in wonder and delight. It was as easy as she’d thought it would be. He was hers. His soul was her soul.
And this body! The feelings running through it. It was like lying in the water and watching the sky as the clouds moved across it, constantly shifting shape. Brewing storms, unleashing them on the earth, going calm as if nothing had happened at all.
Her body was breaking open now, and storms moved across it.
WHEN THE MEAL was over and everyone dispersed, Christopher led Lenia up a winding staircase, into the recesses of the castle. Walking along the stone corridors lit dimly with torches, she felt as if she were swimming through sea caves. Her legs were almost numb by now, the pain a constant she was learning to ignore. The torches caused their shadows to flicker against the walls, like silent fish.
“I do feel I’ve seen you before,” he said. “Yet I know I have never looked upon a woman like you.”
He stopped and reached out to touch her face. He held her chin in his hand, stroking her with his palm.
She was at the mercy, now, of this strange body. Every touch made her want to disappear into him. Her breathing grew heavy, and she could not bear it when he pulled his hand away.
She took his hand and put it to her neck. He watched her, bewildered. “You like being touched,” he whispered wonderingly, opening his palm slowly, softly, on her neck, moving it up to her chin, back down to her collarbone. Moving the c
hain of her necklace back and forth across her skin. “You are not afraid to let me see.” His fingers pushed back, to her hair, and ran through it. It sent a shiver through her, his touch. It was wonderful. She moved into his hand, automatically.
Marry me, she thought.
He pressed his lips to hers, and she opened her mouth to let him move into her, fill her with his soul. He pulled away in surprise.
“You have no tongue.” When she didn’t answer, he asked, “Is that why you are silent?”
She nodded, running her hands along his chest and stretching them around to his back, his neck and hair. She could not stop herself, this new self that was a vessel for him now. There was nothing she could do. She had given up everything for him. She had been made anew for him, in every way possible.
She felt he wanted to ask more, but he was not able to focus any longer on his thoughts. “You are …,” he began. She could see she was shocking him, but she did not care. “Most women are not like you.”
He put his arm around her waist and led her to the end of the corridor, past a group of guards, and finally into a large room with tall, diamond-shaped windows overlooking the sea.
He was flushed, his eyes dark now, as if he were drowning. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue over her lips, and she bent forward. His lips on her neck and his hand running over her chest, down to her breasts.
“You’re a goddess,” he said, over and over. “Your hair, your skin. I’ve never seen anyone like you.”
She felt like her body was dropping open. His fingers in her mouth, feeling for her tongue. “Yes,” he said. “Someone has taken your tongue.” And then he kissed her more intensely, his mouth warm on her skin, sending shivers through her body.
His hands worked at the back of her dress, unlacing it, and as her dress came off she thought how delicious it was, shedding this unnecessary layer; she was happy she had skin and not scales, and even her soft, mussel-like body did not seem naked enough now. He shed his shirt and his pants, until all she could feel was his bare skin on hers as he held her, moved his hands over her, pulled her onto his bed until she was lying under him.
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