by Gemma Holden
“I think it’s time I went home.” Christian stopped and extended his hand. “I will never be able to repay you for saving my life. But thank you. For everything.”
Ducasse clasped his hand tightly. A frown formed on his forehead as he stared over Christian’s shoulder. Following the General’s gaze, Christian turned around. Ducasse appeared to be watching a heavy set man in his early fifties, with black greying hair. He wore full military uniform. A group of women surrounded him and he appeared to be enjoying their attention.
“Do you know him?” Christian asked when the General continued to frown and stare.
Ducasse shook his head slowly. “I thought I did. His name is Fournier. We served in the army together. But I don’t know what he’s doing here in Paris. He was just a captain when I last saw him.”
The name sounded familiar, but Christian couldn’t remember where he had heard it.
“Fournier,” Ducasse called, making his way over to him.
Fournier turned, a slow smile spreading over his face. He made his apologies to his female companions and headed toward them. Christian could smell wine on the man’s clothes as he approached.
“Ducasse,” Fournier said, clapping the General on the back. “I didn’t know you were in Paris.”
“I didn’t expect to find you here either,” Ducasse said, his voice tight.
“I’m here as the Emperor’s personal guest. He invited me himself.”
“I wasn’t aware you had the Emperor’s favour. There was a rumour you had deserted, taking several of the men under your command with you.”
Fournier’s smile became more forced. “That was a misunderstanding. I was charged with undertaking a special mission by the Emperor himself.”
Ducasse didn’t seem convinced by his friend’s words. “I’m glad you gave up that silly idea about a mermaid.”
Fournier smiled smugly as if he was privy to a joke that only he knew. Christian didn’t like the expression on his face.
“What did you mean about a mermaid,” he asked Ducasse once they had continued their walk.
Ducasse shrugged. “It’s nothing. It’s just something he said to me once. He claimed he had seen a mermaid in the river, but it was just his imagination.” Ducasse looked thoughtful for a moment. “He claimed to have seen it in the Rhine, near St Goarshausen. Tell me, Your Highness, did you see any mermaids when you were staying at the castle?”
Christian laughed, but something at the back of his mind stirred. He remembered being in the water that night he had jumped in after Lorelei. He remembered a girl, stroking back the hair from his forehead, and something else in the water. Something thick and scaly.
“You’ve gone pale,” Ducasse remarked.
“My leg is hurting. I’ve walked too far.”
“There must be another reason why he was promoted.” Ducasse chuckled. “As if he could find a mermaid.”
Christian smiled, but his mind kept going back to that night he had jumped into the river. Fournier was the name of the man Gaspard had been looking for, he was sure of it. He needed to find Gaspard. He wanted to go home, back to St Goarshausen and far away from talk of mermaids. And he wanted Gaspard to go with him.
“What day is it?” he asked his valet when he arrived back at his lodgings.
“Saturday, Your Highness,” his valet replied in his usual dour voice.
The day of the Emperor’s ball. Gaspard would be there. He would find him and convince him to come home with him. He had a sudden urge to get out of the city.
He looked at himself in the mirror. Dark circles from too little sleep ringed his eyes and several days growth dusted his face. His nails, once immaculate, were broken and torn. Like he was broken, he thought.
“Your Highness, may I help you with something,” his valet asked.
“Yes,” Christian said, “you can draw me a bath.”
“Are you going somewhere, Your Highness?”
“I’m going to the ball.” The man looked relieved, no doubt pleased that his master was going somewhere other than the nearest tavern. His valet started to take out his uniform from the wardrobe. “Not that one,” Christian said. “Lay out my evening clothes instead.”
After his bath, he dressed in white breeches, black polished boots and a white waistcoat and jacket. For the first time in months, he looked in the mirror and he didn’t look away. It was almost as if the last year had never happened. But the scars under his clothes would never fade.
His valet found him a carriage. For once, he left the cane behind. He stepped out and made his way through the palace to the ballroom. He took a deep breath and then joined the line of people waiting to be announced. When it was his turn, he handed his invitation to a footman.
The footman examined the card before calling out, “Prince Christian of Hesse.”
Christian stepped forward. Since he had been in Paris, he had always been introduced under his military title.
The ballroom was already packed full of people. The French aristocracy - or what remained of them - and the newer members of the elite who had prospered under Napoleon, had all turned out for the Emperor’s ball. He spotted more than one German prince amongst the throng and heard snatches of languages from across Europe mixed in with the French.
A footman stopped before him bearing a tray. He reached out to take a glass of wine, but stopped. He withdrew his hand and shook his head. The footman continued on. Part of the room had been cornered off with screens, while an orchestra played in the gallery above.
He scanned the crowd, looking for Gaspard. He wanted to go home. He’d been avoiding it for so long, but now it was the only place he wanted to go. He just had to convince Gaspard to come with him.
For once, he made an attempt to speak to the other guests. Many knew who he was before he had been introduced.
“You’re not wearing your uniform, Your Highness,” one lady in a cream dress scolded. Her red hair was piled high on her head in an elaborate array.
“Not tonight,” he replied. “You should try wearing one and then you would know how uncomfortable they are.”
Much of his attempt at conversation sounded hollow to his ears, but they smiled politely. He realised all conversation here sounded hollow. There was a time when he wouldn’t have noticed. He was careful not to pay any one lady too much attention, fearing they would mistake his intentions as Lorelei had done.
The orchestra broke off as the huge doors at the end of the hall opened and the Emperor and Empress made their entrance. The men bowed low, while the ladies sank into a deep curtsy. Ducasse had introduced Christian to Napoleon after he had recovered enough to leave his tent. The Emperor had embraced him and congratulated him on his heroism and even invited him to dine with him, but he had yet to take up the Emperor’s generous offer.
The crowd parted as the Emperor and Empress made their way through the ballroom, the guests shuffling back in deference. The royal couple turned and there was complete silence as the guests waited for the Emperor to address them.
The Emperor waited until he had everyone’s attention before he spoke. “My friends, I have brought you back the treasures of Italy and the wonders of Egypt, but now I have a new treasure. Something no other country in the world has.”
He nodded to the footmen and they began folding back the screens that had kept part of the hall hidden to reveal a huge glass tank.
There were gasps as the tank was revealed. The guests stood in stunned silence, staring in shock. Inside was a creature. The top half gave her the appearance of an ordinary girl, but it was her bottom half that had caused people to stare. Instead of legs, a green fish like tail covered with tiny scales moved back and forth in the water.
The Emperor gestured to the tank with the sweep of his arm. “I give to you a mermaid.”
She wore a thin chemise that reached just above her waist, leaving the full length of her tail visible. The crowd surged forward. Christian stood transfixed, his mind refusing to believe what he
was seeing. There was something familiar about the way her tail moved.
He looked up finally and saw her face. Large dark brown eyes, wide and afraid, peered out through strands of long brown hair that floated around her face. Her slender arms were skeletal thin and dappled green and blue. She seemed familiar. He knew her; he was sure of it. He stared, trying to remember. His mind flashed back to the night he had jumped in after Lorelei. It seemed a hundred years ago since he had been there in the water. He had swum to the surface and then he had turned around in the water, looking for Lorelei, and she had been there.
“My god,” Christian said.
It was Adrianna. She cowered at the bottom of the tank, trying to get away from the guests as they crowded round. Christian stood there gaping. The crowd got over their shock and pressed forward, surrounding the tank.
“It can’t be real,” one lady said to her husband.
“It’s impossible,” another said. “It must be a costume.”
Only one person in the room didn’t look shocked. Gaspard stood looking sad, but not surprised. Christian pushed his way to him. “Did you know?” Gaspard didn’t answer him. Christian seized his arm. “Did you know?”
Gaspard finally turned to face him. “I suspected, but there was no way it could possibly be true.”
Christian released him. He was too stunned to think. He looked at the creature in the tank, but all he could see was her tail. “How?” he asked. “How can she be a… whatever she is?”
“I don’t know.”
“I saw her walking by the river. She had legs. How is this possible?”
“We cannot talk here,” Gaspard said quietly, “and I do not wish to stay and watch them stare.”
Still stunned, Christian nodded. People were pushing forward, trying to get a better view. He didn’t want to be one of them.
“I’m staying with a friend of mine,” Gaspard continued. “I knew her before the revolution. She will lend us her carriage.”
Gaspard led him over to his companion who was with the other guests, trying to get a better view of the mermaid.
“Elise, may I borrow your carriage?” Gaspard asked.
Elise turned. She had hazel eyes and lips painted a dark red. Her dark hair hung in ringlets held up with jewelled clasps. Christian guessed her age to be somewhere in her fifties, but she was still a striking woman. Lines only lightly webbed her eyes.
“Of course,” she said, smiling. “But how can you leave now? Don’t you want to stay and look at the creature?”
Gaspard grimaced. “Not tonight.” He turned to Christian. “Your Highness, may I introduce Madame Renard to you.”
“Your Highness,” Elise said, curtsying. “Gaspard has told me so much about you.”
“Madame,” Christian said, bowing stiffly.
“I will send the carriage back for you later,” Gaspard said to Elise.
Christian followed Gaspard through the throng of people. He was relieved once they were outside and he could breathe again. Gaspard gave Elise’s driver the address of Christian’s lodgings. They sat in silence on the way back. He didn’t know what to say. Once they left the palace it seemed ridiculous that Adrianna could possibly be a mermaid.
Once they were inside, Christian poured brandy into two glasses and handed one to Gaspard. Gaspard sank into an armchair, but Christian couldn’t sit. He paced the room back and forth, his long strides quickly crossing the distance.
“Do you think it’s really the same girl from St Goarshausen?” Christian asked. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear Gaspard say it.
“It’s her,” Gaspard said.
“It must be a costume. Something to fit over her legs.”
“The Emperor would have made sure she was real before he showed her off to the world. He woudn’t risk being made to look a fool.”
“She lived her whole life in that town. How can no one have known what she was?” Gaspard didn’t answer. Christian finally sat down on the chair across from his former tutor. “Do you think her mother knew her daughter was really a mermaid?”
“I don’t believe Adrianna was always a mermaid. Something must have happened to her. I intend to find out what it was.”
“There’s nothing you can do,” Christian said. “She’s not the girl that you knew. She’s something else. She deceived you and lied about what she was.”
“We cannot leave her at the mercy of the French.”
“She’s not human.”
“I believe that if it wasn’t for her you would have drowned. You owe her your life. We cannot leave her to be paraded about and stared at.” He sipped the brandy. “I will let the excitement die down and then I will find a way to see her. I won’t leave until I have spoken to her.”
“You will never get close enough.”
“I will find a way.”
Christian thought of the soldiers that patrolled the palace. The Emperor was no fool; he would see that she was protected. Gaspard would probably get shot trying to get close enough to speak to her. He sighed. He couldn’t leave him. He would have to stay as well.
~~~~~
Adrianna huddled into a tight ball, trying to make herself as small as possible. The crowd of people were banging on the glass, trying to get her attention. The noise reverberated through the tank.
Earlier that day, wooden screens painted with pictures of birds and trailing vines had been placed around the tank to conceal her. She assumed that the Emperor was going to present her at another one of his private dinners. Later, the chandeliers were lit and hoisted up to the ceiling. Then she heard the rustle of fabric and the sound of footsteps and voices. The screens reached past the top of the tank, blocking her view, but there were more voices than she had ever heard before. Music started and then she heard even more people arrive. Afraid, she had gone underwater and stayed there. She had huddled down in the corner, trying to make herself small and hoping no one would notice her.
She had thought she was safe, until the screens were suddenly pulled away and she could see the sea of people in fine clothes all staring at her. Hundreds and hundreds of them filled the room, all looking at her. She could see Fournier standing at the front, just behind the Emperor and Empress. The crowd rushed forward, surrounding her. She shrank back from them, but they surrounded every side of the tank, pushing forward, trying to see.
There were so many faces, all looking at her. She tucked her tail to her chest and wrapped her arms around it, trying to hide from their gaze. The soldiers forced the crowd back and the little metal set of stairs was pushed against the tank. She watched as two soldiers climbed up, both holding long wooden poles. They thrust them in the water at her and she had to move quickly to avoid being hit. She swam around the tank, trying to avoid them. The people banged even harder and cheered. The moment she stopped moving, the poles were thrust at her again.
Occasionally, they would make her change direction or move even faster. Eventually, she began to slow down and, unable to avoid them any longer, the poles caught her on the small of her back and her hip. Fournier climbed up the stairs, shaking his head, and finally they pulled the poles out. Exhausted and bruised, she sank down to the bottom of the tank.
The dancing started again, but a small crowd stayed to look at her. They drifted away, but always more came to stare. She wanted to ignore them, but it only made them bang harder. She covered her ears against the noise, but they didn’t care.
She wasn’t a person to them. She was a mermaid.
Chapter Twenty Three
By the next day news of the mermaid had spread throughout Paris. She was on the front page of every newspaper that Christian’s valet brought him.
“Did you see the creature at the ball, Your Highness?” his valet asked.
“Only from a distance,” Christian replied, unwilling to talk about Adrianna. Gaspard had stayed late, but Christian had been unable to persuade him to come back to St Goarshausen with him.
Christian rubbed his eyes as he d
rank his coffee. He had slept badly. He had dreamed of Lorelei and the night she had jumped from the cliff. He had half expected to wake up and find that last night had all been a dream. In the end he had given up trying to sleep and decided to get up.
It was the first time he had been awake this early since the army. Outside his window, the streets of Paris were busy. A steady stream of people were heading toward the palace. Feeling restless, he left his lodgings and hailed a cab and gave the driver the address Gaspard had given him last night of where he was staying. As he rang the bell, he realised how early it was. He shouldn’t be calling on anyone at this time, but the door opened before he could leave.
“Is Monsieur Gaspard at home?” he asked, giving his card to the butler.
The butler disappeared and returned a moment later. “Monsieur Gaspard has already gone out, but Madame Renard will see you. If you will come with me.”
Christian handed him his gloves and hat and followed him through the entrance hall and into the breakfast room. Elise lounged in a chair, wearing a silk robe, buttering a piece of toast and reading the newspaper in front of her. She set her knife down and rose when he entered.
“Your Highness, what a lovely surprise.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Christian said, bowing. “I was looking for Gaspard.”
“Gaspard isn’t here. He left first thing this morning.” She waved him to a seat and proceeded to pour him a cup of coffee. “Please come and join me.”
“Did he say where he was going?” he asked as he accepted the cup and stirred in cream and sugar.
“He didn’t need to. I heard him pacing all night. He went to see the creature. I still can’t believe that she was real.”
He could hardly believe it himself.
“Gaspard says that he knows her,” Elise continued. “How can that be?” She was watching for his reaction above her teacup.
“I’m not sure,” Christian said, awkwardly shifting in his seat.
Elise set her teacup down and rose. “Well, I suppose we should go and find him. I’ll get dressed.”