Princess of Mermaids

by A. G. Marshall

  Although if everything went well tonight, she might not need it. If she could prove that she belonged here, maybe she wouldn’t feel so eager to leave.

  The entire city bustled with activity as everyone prepared for the ceremony. Merfolk swam loops around each other, and a strange chorus of unrelated yet harmonious songs floated through the water. Fiora looked for Leander, hoping to find an opportunity to ask about the enchantment that had made him human, but whatever he was doing, he was doing it somewhere else.

  “You’re late,” Althea said as they swam into the castle.

  She was already prepared for the ceremony. Her hair was filled with decorative shells and rocks tied and braided into the strands. She wore eight oysters clipped onto her tail, marking her status as a member of the royal family.

  Fiora’s plans to ask Althea about the transformation magic withered and died when she saw her aunt’s expression. That conversation would have to wait until Althea was in a better mood.

  Which meant it would be waiting a very long time.

  “Eat something first, girls,” Kathelin said.

  She gestured to a flat rock covered with what passed for food in the underwater world. Zoe smiled and darted over to it. Fiora gagged.

  Since they were underwater, mermaids could not cook as humans did. There was no fire. No spices.

  Instead, they mashed ingredients together into thick blobs the consistency of mud. The blobs on the rock were an unappetizing gray-brown color and had crab legs sticking out of them.

  Zoe picked one up and munched it with obvious enjoyment. Tiny clouds of black floated away from her mouth as she crunched a crab leg.

  “Squid ink,” Althea said with a scowl. “I told Chef to make something that wouldn’t make a mess, and he sends this!”

  “But they’re delicious!” Zoe said.

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Kathelin said. “Fiora, are you going to eat, or should I do your hair now?”

  “I already ate.”

  Fiora would rather go hungry than eat anything on that rock. The squid ink floated through the water in dark lines. Althea was right. It was a mess.

  Before she had experienced life as a human, Fiora had found the merfolk food tolerable. Now it was unbearable. Just another reminder of the life she had fought for and lost.

  Kathelin swam around Fiora and tied shells into her hair. Althea hummed a tune to gather all the squid ink Zoe had spread into the water into a single dark cloud. She pushed it out an opening in the wall then joined her sister in helping Fiora prepare for the ceremony.

  On land, wearing this many ornaments in her hair would have weighed it down and given Fiora a headache. But underwater, everything simply floated. She would notice a little more drag when she swam, but nothing else.

  “Beautiful,” Kathelin said. “The blue shells look lovely with your red hair.”

  Fiora rolled her eyes. Her hair color had caused her nothing but trouble.

  “She looks like Nyssa,” Althea said softly.

  Fiora wasn’t sure which surprised her more: the emotion in her aunt’s voice or the fact that she had mentioned Fiora’s mother.

  “She’s Nyssa’s daughter,” Kathelin said gently. “A royal sister. I’ve always thought she looks like her.”

  Fiora stared up at her aunts. She had only ever heard that she looked like her father, but perhaps that was because she had his hair.

  Althea studied Fiora from head to tail, then nodded.

  “You do look like Nyssa. I don’t know why I haven’t seen it before.”

  “And you act like her to,” Kathelin said. “She was always getting into trouble.”

  “And we’d get her out of it.”

  “Like when you made the ring?”

  Fiora couldn’t help asking. Althea scowled, but not as deeply as Fiora had thought she might.

  “Have we never told you the story?”

  Fiora shook her head, causing the shells tied in her hair to bob in the water.

  “You never talk about her at all.”

  She was pushing her luck, but she had never seen the royal sisters so receptive to talking about her mother. Maybe she could get new information while they were feeling sentimental.

  Althea sighed.

  “You’ve probably guessed most of it. Nyssa visited land and fell in love with your father. She was never happy in the water after that, so we made the ring for her.”

  “We?”

  “I helped,” Kathelin said. “It took months and every bit of magic we had.”

  “And it uses the love of a human man to transform a mermaid into a human?”

  Althea nodded. Fiora ran her thumb over the pearl’s lifeless surface. She had tried not to think too hard about it since she returned to the ocean, but the evidence was too overwhelming to ignore any longer.

  If the ring had lost its magic, then her father no longer loved her.

  Fiora hated that her eyes filled with tears when she admitted that to herself. It shouldn’t hurt so badly. Why should one person’s opinion matter so much?

  Because she had given up her entire world to live with her father. Because she had dedicated her life to marrying well and making an alliance for Kell when he asked.

  Because, no matter how hard she tried, she had still lost him in the end. To the stepmother who never approved and the stepsister who never failed.

  Elspeth.

  Fiora gritted her teeth as she remembered her father’s words. Fiora had been sent away to give Elspeth a better chance.

  A hand settled on her shoulder, and Fiora flinched. Kathelin gave her a sad smile.

  “That’s enough reminiscing, I think. Let’s put the oysters on Fiora’s tail so we can start Zoe’s hair.”

  Perhaps this was why the mermaids never wanted to talk about their younger sister. Kathelin looked less cheerful than usual, and Althea looked capable of murder.

  She pulled eight oysters out of a large clamshell basket and swam down to Fiora’s tail fin. Kathelin hummed a tune to open the shell, and Althea clipped it onto her tail.

  “Ouch!”

  Fiora jerked her tail away as pain shot through her fin. The emotion in her voice created a small whirlpool that spiraled through the water. It knocked the blobs of food off the rock and sent them flying across the room.

  Where they crashed into Queen Gallerus.

  Dark clouds of squid ink spread slowly through the water, leaving blotches of black on the queen’s long, white hair. Everyone in the room stared at Fiora.

  She stared back in horror, watching helplessly as the squid ink spread.

  The other mermaids regained their composure and hummed to create magical currents in the water. They pushed the squid ink away and pulled crab legs out of the queen’s hair.

  The dark spots remained. Apparently squid ink was an effective hair dye.

  Queen Gallerus didn’t say anything. She simply looked at Fiora for a moment, then shifted her gaze to Althea and Kathelin, sending them a clear message.

  Fix this.

  The queen backed out of the room and swam away. As soon as she was gone, the room sprang into motion.

  “What was that?” Althea asked. “Why did you scream?”

  “It hurts!” Fiora said, pulling at the shell. “It’s ripping my fin!”

  “Fiora, the oysters are harmless.”

  Kathelin grabbed Fiora’s tail and clipped the rest of the shells on in quick succession.

  Tears filled Fiora’s eyes. She clamped her mouth shut, not daring to speak for fear that she would create currents strong enough to wreck the room.

  When they had finished, she floated to a dark corner of the room and tried to focus on anything but the pain shooting through her tail. At least it was a distraction from the ache in her heart.

  The mermaids ignored her while they cleaned the room and finished getting ready. Fiora flexed her fin, trying to stretch away the pain, but nothing helped.

  Zoe swam over when her hair was finis
hed and oysters had been clipped to her tail.

  “I know it pinches, but you get used to it.”

  She smiled sympathetically, and Fiora glared. Pinch? That was the understatement of the century.

  Zoe’s eyes widened when she realized Fiora was in genuine distress, and she sang a soft song. It was one Fiora recognized from her childhood. A song of healing and comfort.

  The sharp pain in her tail eased into a dull throbbing. She relaxed a little.

  “Thank you, Zoe.”

  “That’s what sisters are for!”

  The mermaid beamed, making Fiora think she should probably be nice to her more often. The youngster meant well.

  “Getting dressed up is always uncomfortable,” Zoe said. “Do humans wear decorations?”

  Fiora nodded, not quite sure how to explain earrings and corsets and high-heeled shoes and the various other human clothing meant for formal events. The heels had been uncomfortable, but nothing like this.

  “It’s time,” Althea announced. “Is everyone ready?”

  She glared at Fiora and Zoe as she said it. Both mermaids nodded.

  “We’re ready, Althea,” Zoe said.

  “Then let’s begin. Everyone follow me.”

  The rest of the mermaids followed Althea and the royal sisters in a single file line. They sang a solemn tune and moved slowly since this was a formal procession. Thank goodness for that. The oysters pulled at Fiora’s fin every time she moved her tail.

  She watched the other mermaids for signs of discomfort, but none of them seemed to be in pain. Maybe Fiora’s fin hurt more because she was half human. Because the fish part of her was a little less fishy than everyone else.

  Lucky her.

  They reached the site of the ceremony, and Fiora did her best to push the pain out of her head. She needed to focus.

  If she wanted to find her place as a mermaid, then she needed to sing perfectly.

  8

  Gustave stared at the tables covered with flower arrangements. They filled the ballroom in a riot of color and perfume. Ribbons in complementary colors and vases of various shapes and sizes took up the rest of the space.

  When Marquis Corbeau said he was planning the wedding, he meant it.

  Gustave wished there had actually been an urgent matter of state to deal with. Anything was preferable to this.

  “Surely this can be decided without my input.”

  Marquis Corbeau shook his head.

  “Your Majesty is well aware that you cannot delegate important decisions until you claim the full kingship. We must work together.”

  Gustave massaged his forehead. That law of partial kingship was designed to help young rulers learn the basics of ruling in a supportive environment. A sort of apprenticeship if they took the throne before they came of age, and a way to make sure they had time to figure out life and find a suitable bride before taking on too much responsibility.

  “I doubt my forefathers had flowers in mind when drafting that particular piece of legislation. You are deliberately misinterpreting the law.”

  Marquis Corbeau shrugged.

  “The florist had to come anyway to deliver the arrangements for your birthday gala. It seemed efficient to select flowers for your wedding as well.”

  The florist dropped a vase of roses when Marquis Corbeau mentioned the wedding. His assistant rushed to pick them up while the florist turned his full attention to Gustave.

  “Your Majesty has chosen a bride?”

  Why did everyone light up when discussing his marriage? The florist was absolutely beaming.

  “He has not decided quite yet,” Marquis Corbeau said, “But we would do well to be prepared.”

  “Of course. These lilies are popular wedding flowers and will be in bloom a few more weeks.”

  “Weeks?” Gustave said.

  “How many do you have available?” Marquis Corbeau said.

  A servant ran into the room, and Gustave looked up at him hopefully. Maybe something important had happened that required his attention. At this point, another kraken attack would be a welcome distraction.

  “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but the Dowager Queen would like to see you.”

  Gustave’s hope for a distraction flickered and died.

  “I am rather busy at the moment with important state business-”

  “It’s not that important,” Marquis Corbeau said. “I can finish here without your help.”

  He turned back to the florist.

  “Tell me more about the wedding lilies. How many could you provide on short notice?”

  Gustave gritted his teeth and walked through the castle to his grandmother’s sitting room. This was becoming unbearable.

  He knocked on the door even though he knew his grandmother wouldn’t be able to hear it. Someone would tell her, and then-

  “Come in!”

  Dowager Queen Bernadine’s voice rang through the chamber, and the door swung open. Thomas, her interpreter, held the door for Gustave then reclaimed his seat by the dowager queen’s side. Gustave hurried to greet his grandmother, who sat in her wheelchair as regally as if she still held the throne.

  “How are you today, Grandmother?”

  He spoke the words and made signs with his hands at the same time to make sure she understood him. Dowager Queen Bernadine had been deaf since Gustave’s childhood, but that didn’t stop her from taking an active role in both official and personal affairs. Gustave, Collette, and a few members of the castle staff had learned sign language so they could better communicate with her. The rest of the time, Thomas translated.

  “I’m busy,” Dowager Queen Bernadine replied. “Far too busy.”

  The gleam in her eyes said this was how she preferred things. It was how Gustave preferred things as well. The dowager queen had less time to interfere with his life when she was occupied with affairs of state.

  “Rebuilding the harbor?” he signed.

  “Of course not. There are far more important things to do at the moment. I’ve been revising the guest list for your birthday gala.”

  Gustave swallowed.

  “Grandmother-”

  Bernadine waved her hand to stop him.

  “Please step out to the hallway, Thomas. I’d like a moment of privacy with my grandson.”

  Thomas bowed and left the room. His translation wasn’t necessary since Gustave knew sign language, but he rarely left Bernadine’s side. This wasn’t good.

  As soon as the door closed, the dowager queen pinned Gustave in place with sharp eyes that had once caused even the most sea-hardened admirals to quake in their boots.

  They still would, if she hadn’t given up control of the navy to focus her attention on her grandchildren. The entire navy had breathed a sigh of relief when she announced her retirement.

  “I’ve been looking over the guest list, Gustave. I’d like to make some changes.”

  “The council and I approved that list months ago, Grandmother.”

  “I understand that, but you neglected to consult me at the time. It isn’t every day my grandson has a birthday. I’d like to invite some of my friends to celebrate with me.”

  “Your friends?”

  Gustave had no problem with Queen Bernadine inviting friends, but the gleam in her eyes made him nervous

  “Yes, my friends. Don’t give me that look, Gustave. Suspicion is unbecoming in a king.”

  “What kind of friends?”

  “Oh, members of my embroidery club, former ladies-in-waiting, that kind of thing.”

  “And I suppose they’ll bring their granddaughters?”

  He raised an eyebrow as he signed the words. Dowager Queen Bernadine gave him an innocent smile.

  “Perhaps. They might even send them in their place if they are too busy to come themselves.”

  “Dealing with the last suggested bride almost killed me, Grandmother. I’m not ready for another so soon.”

  She chuckled.

  “I told Marquis Corbeau that
courting Princess Carina was a bad idea. My guests will be nice, local girls. Nothing like those ruffian princesses from Santelle.”

  Gustave slumped into his chair, not caring that it was improper for a king to slump. Dowager Queen Bernadine’s eyes grew even sharper.

  “Why are you so opposed to this, Gustave?”

  “I don’t want to rush into a marriage.”

  “I’m not asking you to rush. Just to dance with some girls at a party and see if you like them. But you’re reluctant even to do that. Why?”

  Gustave’s hands hovered in the air for a moment as he considered his words.

  “I don’t want to give up my search for Father,” he finally signed. “And I don’t want to take a bride when I can’t give her my full attention. If I become fully king and have a wife, I won’t be able to devote time to the search. And what happens when Father returns, but I’ve claimed the full kingship? He won’t be legally allowed to take it back.”

  Meaning Gustave would be stuck with the responsibility for the rest of his life. He had always known he would be king. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

  Dowager Queen Bernadine’s gaze softened.

  “You’ve been searching for almost a year, Gustave.”

  “I’m not giving up.”

  “I’m not saying you should. Do you think I want to admit my son is dead? Do you think I’m not clinging to hope just as tightly as you are?”

  Gustave sat up straighter.

  “Then why push me to become king before we find him?”

  “You can’t stop living because of tragedy, Gustave. Your father is missing, and of course you want to find him. But you also need to think about the future. Your future and the kingdom’s. Montaigne needs a king. You need a wife.”

  “I can rule without being married. The council and I have made it this far.”

  “Not happily.”

  Gustave sighed.

  “You don’t have to worry about me, Grandmother. I’m fine. Please stop plotting.”

  “Is it plotting to want my only grandson happily married and the future of my country secured?”

  “Yes.”