I should have been more contrite at the way I’d just treated her, but I couldn’t be sorry for putting her in her place. She’d never been denied anything in her life, not by her mother, not by her father, not by Bestaymor, and certainly not by any merfolk intending to live out their three centuries in peace. Even when she knew her father would actually refuse her the one thing she most feverishly desired, she had found a way to get it, going to the absolute depths of the ocean to make a deal with the sea witch who even now regretted the bargain. If Sienna still insisted on being stubborn, if she still insisted on keeping the revolutions of her life tight around herself, then I was surely permitted to stand up to her.
Even as I could see the flames sparking from her burning feet when she turned and ran from me.
A little more than a month later, I awoke in a sour mood, the sudden realization that I had been on land for so long enough to wreck my usually complacent temperament. I had trimmed over six sets of hedges by then. All burst with life as animated sea creatures scuttled and frolicked and rode roaring waves. None of them were mermaids. None of them were any color but green. None of them were enough to instill an equally sharp pang of homesickness in the mermaid I was trying to bring back home.
The royal family was quite beside itself and their pleasure with my designs only increased with each completed hedge. They had assigned me to a seamstress who made me five simple dresses, four to wear by day and one for special occasions that was much lovelier than the rest with its shimmering purple and blue material, though I wasn’t quite sure why I needed it. They seemed certain I would be there for a while. I refused to believe it would be so and stolidly kept my eyes to the sea, despite having made little to no progress with Sienna.
I had been allowed to stay in my original room, so night after night I stared at the engraved mermaids and wondered at my fruitless attempts to get through to Sienna. I wondered if Tatiana was watching everything, why hadn’t she sent some help? Didn’t she see how foolhardy this rescue attempt was becoming?
That morning, the dark storm clouds crowding the sky reflected my mood. Eventually, they grew too heavy and released their loads in an angry downpour preventing me from working that day. Marel would be glad to have my help in any one of his meticulously cared for greenhouses, but I didn’t have the will to get anything done and assured myself he had enough gardeners at his disposal and would seek me out if he really needed me.
In so sorry a state, I watched the rain from the comfort of my bed, and ironically it wasn’t long before my mood shifted. Humans couldn’t abide the rain for long because they didn’t like the lingering feeling of wet, but what bother was that to me?
Still in my nightdress, I flung open the set of large windows and stepped onto the very shallow porch hugging the room outside. Rain pelted me mercilessly, soaking my hair, my arms, my clothing, all the way to my bones. Sure, I’d only felt rain once or twice before, but water was my home after all. It warmed me from within, this life of the sea, so I stood thusly in the rain, relishing every drop, wondering if it could form a puddle large enough to handle my transformation back into a mermaid then and there. The wind whipped around the palace walls and I laughed in delight, spinning in place with head thrust back as the rain continued to fall unabated.
I was interrupted by worried shouts and an insistent hand dragging me back inside. The windows were shut securely against the weather as I was hastily wrapped in a blanket and brought before the fire. Through the layers, a muffled voice scolded me for my neglectful behavior, but I was too reinvigorated to pay it any mind. It was good to be back in the water, no matter how slight.
I only tuned into the people around me when a warm mug was pressed into my hands. I wasn’t shivering, but no one seemed to notice as they went through the motions of human recovery.
“What were you thinking?” someone harshly asked, and I looked up to find Princess Cordelia standing over me, the look on her face more concern than anger.
“I apologize for worrying you, Princess,” I said politely.
The princess shook her head at me. “Madness, sheer madness!” she proclaimed.
I offered a sheepish smile. “Would Her Highness believe that I woke up in a bad mood and simply intended to wash it all away?”
That stopped her short. She peered at me curiously, studying my demeanor.
“Did it work?” she inquired.
I gave her one of my best smiles. “I think so,” I replied.
“Well, I never,” she began, then gave up and threw her hands in the air. She shook her head at me, but I could see the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“Is Her Highness looking for something?” I asked next, just then thinking on how it was she found me to begin with.
The princess collected herself. “As the rain surely suspended your duties for the day, I thought to invite you to the library with me. It’s an unofficial family tradition to spend rainy days there.”
I stood quickly. “Thank you, Princess, I would be honored to join you.”
The princess gave me an amused glance, taking in the blanket I was already sliding off my still damp arms.
“Perhaps a change of clothing is in order?” she suggested delicately.
In my joy at being surrounded by water once more, I had forgotten all about the burdensome need.
“Of course,” I hastily agreed.
The library was one among many rooms in the palace that I had passed at some point but had yet to enter. Stepping in, I couldn’t help but gape at the wonderland I had intruded upon. Who knew the human world had so much to…know? The room was at least three stories high, stacked wall to ceiling with every size and color book imaginable. Sure, we learned to read under the sea, and we had some magically written books, but most of our knowledge and histories were passed down orally. Many of the stories I knew were from Bestaymor, and, even made up, they were unreliable at best.
I wouldn’t say that humans knew more, there was an entire world under the sea they’d hardly seen, but the amount of books in that library staggered my mind, and it reeled with the possibilities and knowledge they held, that they could teach me of their world. I was quite taken with the room, quite eager to consume all it had to offer, and quite unsure of where to begin.
Before I could ask the princess to guide me, an approaching set of footsteps turned us both around to greet the prince as he joined us in the library. It seemed the princess hadn’t exaggerated in speaking of her unofficial family tradition. I wondered if the king and queen would soon appear as well or if they were already there.
“Cordelia,” the prince genially greeted his sister with a half hug, “first, as usual.”
Thus leaning forward, the prince revealed his retinue of a standard set of guards that hung back toward the door, and, of course, Sienna, who refused to meet my eyes.
“Only because it takes you so long to make sense of your dreams in the morning,” his sister teased back.
“Soon enough you shall meet my special friend,” he countered, too seriously to be joking. “He’ll whisk you away to his kingdom and you’ll be too enamored with him to ever think on time again.”
I would learn this was a running jest between them. The prince constantly threatening his sister with a mystery friend who would take her away and leave him to rule the kingdom without her useful interference. The princess never went along with it, possibly because she didn’t believe this person actually existed.
Princess Cordelia rolled her eyes. “One day with you in charge,” she warned, “and the people will beg me to return and take the throne, by force if necessary.”
The prince chuckled good-naturedly and glanced my way. I dropped a short curtsy, which he acknowledged with a nod.
“Why is your hair so wet?” he asked.
“Because of where I found her this morning,” the princess answered for me. “Windows wide open, standing in the rain.”
The prince raised his eyebrows at me, but I didn’t respon
d. He smirked as he glanced back toward his sister. “The foundling also likes standing in the rain,” he remarked.
Princess Cordelia raised her eyebrows meaningfully. “The foundling has a penchant for a great many things,” she mused.
“The foundling—” the prince began.
“The foundling is a girl, Your Highness,” I cut in softly, punctuating my rude words with a slow hiss of his title. “And she has a name.”
I knew I shouldn’t have, but there was something in his tone when he spoke of Sienna, perhaps even something still lingering in me from the morning that pushed me over the line, just a little. Sienna had brought this upon herself, but there was only so much abuse I could watch her withstand.
The prince, the princess, and even the foundling herself turned three very surprised sets of eyes upon me. So far, I’d been nothing but gracious and grateful. Really, I was still riding on their good graces, but there were some things I’d had quite enough of. The first step in getting the prince to notice Sienna was in making him see her for the lovely girl she was and not the oddity he treated her as. I didn’t know what the second step should be but was sure it would follow soon enough.
Unfortunately, I wouldn’t have to bother. That first step I was so sure of backfired, though I wouldn’t learn about the severe consequences of that until there was no way to undo them.
“Sienna,” I enunciated, “her name is Sienna.” Then I bit my tongue before I could add in that she was a princess and dropped a curtsy to excuse myself.
I may have been right in my intentions, but I was sure from their expressions that I had overstepped. I fled into the depths of the library, cheeks burning, eyes downcast, my mind berating myself for my slipup and the blatant lack of decorum that would surely have me thrown from the human palace and force me to return to the sea witch empty-handed.
I found a chair in a quiet corner near a window giving muted light and curled up in it, quite unsure of what to do with myself, focusing only on the rain pattering outside and willing it to wash me away entirely. The library had suddenly lost its appeal. There was nothing here I wanted to know anymore. I sank into myself and wallowed in self-pity.
I don’t know how long passed before a pair of shoes, their approach muffled by the thick carpet, came into view. They hesitated a moment and it wasn’t until a throat was cleared that I dared glance at their owner.
I sprang up immediately, even though I couldn’t quite bring myself to look at the prince.
“Ah, I apologize for upsetting you, Ariel,” he began. “Of course, I didn’t take your own circumstances into account when I spoke about, ah, Sienna, and didn’t think on how it would upset you.”
I couldn’t believe he was apologizing to me, but I wasn’t about to let the moment go without grabbing my chance to make amends. “Please, Your Highness, forgive my impertinence,” I begged, barely containing my shuddering breaths.
The prince was somewhat startled by the intensity of my plea, but he collected himself enough to reassure that all was forgiven. I would not be sent away.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” I told him sincerely.
The prince shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat once more. “Yes, well, now that’s out of the way, so here,” he stuttered awkwardly, pushing a book into my arms. “It’s, ah, well, something you might enjoy.”
I held it out to read the title, caressing the soft cover and dancing my fingers over the gold embossed words.
“Thank you,” I said again.
“Yes, well, I hope you like it,” the prince said.
He clicked his heels together and strode away. Scarcely was he out of sight, then Princess Cordelia materialized beside me.
“That was something,” she said mildly.
“Your Highness?” I asked, fixated on the book.
I opened to the first page and my eyes widened in pleasure. The pages were so soft, so colorful, the drawings of plants and flower and shrubs and trees looking ready to sprout from the pages. I wanted to learn all of it that very moment.
“Arlando hardly listens to anyone,” the princess explained. “It can help when he’s set on an experiment, but you can’t imagine what kind of arguments I must contrive to convince him to do anything he’s decided against.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” I said cautiously.
The princess turned a surprised gaze upon me. “Didn’t you hear him refer to the girl by name?” she asked.
“Oh,” I replied. “I admit to being too relieved that he accepted my apology to notice.”
“Yes, about that,” the princess said with a purse of her lips.
“I really am sorry, Princess,” I apologized to her. “I didn’t intend any disrespect.”
The princess smiled kindly. “Arlando accepted your apology, I accept it, too.” She shook her head in wonder. “You must have really gotten to him, though. I don’t remember the last time I saw him feeling so bad about something.”
A sudden thought occurred to me. “Did you send him over to speak with me, Highness?”
“He picked up a book that seemed to your tastes and I simply suggested he share it,” the princess defended herself. “Though you don’t have to read it just because he gave it to you. If you do, and you like it, there’ll be no end to the books he’ll bring you.”
“I wouldn’t mind, Princess,” I told her honestly. “I didn’t have such access to books before.”
Princess Cordelia shook her head. “Tell him anything but,” she warned, “for whenever Mother introduces him to a potential match, he’ll inevitably ask about the books she reads. Most times he’ll come away shaking his head and muttering something about the leopard and the fox, the former of which outshone the latter in beauty, the latter of which outpaced the other in wits. He claims an intelligent mind is far more attractive than physical beauty, and Mother’s really at her wits end with him.”
I thought about it a moment. “That’s a pretty thing to hear,” I said carefully.
“Maybe,” the princess replied. “Though there’s really no reason why as a prince, especially a Crown Prince, he can’t have both.” She paused and mused a moment to herself. “I did not expect him to apologize,” she muttered next, clearly still affected by what had just happened. “Or to lose his tongue!” she exclaimed even louder.
I stroked the cover of the book from the prince. Frankly, I didn’t care much for the details of what was said or to whom anymore. I was simply glad they were letting me stay.
Perhaps to help dispel some of the dreary mood that descended on the palace with the storm that showed no sign of ceasing, a slew of entertainment was planned for the following evening. After dinner, I retired to my rooms thinking to keep out of sight but was quickly summoned back by a personal message from Princes Cordelia. Following her instructions, I dressed in my one nice dress and met her outside her rooms.
The princess had also changed, and the glistening ribbons of her aquamarine dress sang out that she was determined to have a lovely evening. She motioned for me to walk beside her as she led me to a large room set up for the merrymaking.
A large semicircle of chairs a few rows deep ran nearly wall-to-wall, acting as border to the cleared space serving as the stage. The king and queen were already in their places in the center of the curve and I stayed on the fringe while Princess Cordelia glided forward to sit beside her parents. Prince Arlando, the ever-present Sienna, and a few handfuls of nobility were also present. A few minutes for everyone to find a seat, then the candles were dimmed, and the evening began.
The first thing I realized that night was that, despite our differences, human and merfolk courts are very much the same in many ways. Both have a royal family, advisors, noblemen, and the favored few who form the inner circle. Both have servants for all types of labor, both have riches on display to impress others. That night, I learned that we also both have our fair share of entertainers, our actors, our acrobats, our jugglers, and our jesters. Some are better than others
in either world, but overall, the entertainment and the court’s desire to be entertained are largely the same.
There was something, however, that was not quite the same and that wasn’t realized until one of the final acts of the evening. After a burst of appreciative applause for the current performers, six women dressed in flowing silks and glittering gold took their places on stage. Each was more beautiful than the next, with darkened, shimmering skin, thick hair, and full, maroon colored lips. From the way the men hushed all about the room, it was evident these were considered among the most beautiful women this land had to offer. Even the noblewomen leaned forward in expectation. I thought them beautiful as well, but unlike many of the other women in the palace, I was used to being outshone, even by those of lesser stature.
A shuddering ding rang out. Another. And another. Slowly, to the softest, simplest chime, the women began to move. Their dance started off slowly, each elongated note allowing for an exaggerated movement of body that elicited low murmurs of appreciation. There was no sound in the room aside from the sparse beat, the gentle swishing of the women’s beautiful silks, and the quiet delight of the audience.
The tempo increased and the volume with it, more instruments soon built up the melody, and the women began stepping more quickly. The slow music allowed for the full appreciation of their beauty and forms, but the increase in speed displayed their real talent and admirable nimbleness of foot. As the music had risen, so had a voice with it, and a choir of the loveliest of voices joined for the beautiful dancing women.
It was wonderful, absolutely wonderful, but also severely lacking compared to the music of the sea.
I can’t know for sure that Sienna thought as I did, but as soon as the song petered back out to a single chime, as soon as the encore and thunderous applause ceased, as soon as the women curtsied their exit, all eyes were drawn back to the stage where Sienna had invited herself to perform. The crowd hushed in curiosity.
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