Still he did not openly converse with his peers, other rich boys of his age who were at court as apprentices to their lordly fathers, and neither were they terribly interested in his friendship. He made brief appearances at some balls or parties if requested to do so, but he did not dance. He listened to one or two women, and even engaged in five minutes or so of pleasurable small talk, of which he was becoming quite adept, for he found it enjoyable to discuss the weather. Indeed, the ladies of court found him irresistible – for who could not love a dark and handsome kidnapping survivor, with mysterious eyes and a thrilling voice, who was forever sucking on oranges?
The Prince was resolved to the fact that he would never know a woman, and was very happy to restrict his relations with them to a few words here and there, a smile and a nod. He was no longer afraid of them, indeed they did have some outstanding qualities, but the Prince had greater things on his mind, even if his Uncle did not. Once or twice the Prince would bump into a partially dressed maid sneaking out of his Uncle’s apartments. Late at night, he would hear giggles from the chamber as he passed on his return from the library, and he swore he heard the deep groans of the Countess at five o’clock in the morning. He was beginning to realise the magnetic pull his Uncle seemed to have on women. He was always surrounded by a throng of them at parties, and would barely stand still long enough for a conversation, as he was always sweeping off one lady or another to dance. Even the maids, at mealtimes, would regard him with half-lidded eyes, as if they knew his secrets.
But the Prince was happy to permit his Uncle the lion’s share, as no women at court interested him, and were unlikely to ever do so. Until one night, when the Prince had reluctantly made his way to the ballroom, for he was studying the greater arts of geometry and found it quite absorbing. His uncle had been warning him about the event all week long, more insistent that usual that he make an appearance. Grudgingly, he stood amongst the throng of people in the hall, the men in their stately finery, the women in those horrible fluffy dresses that made them appear far fatter than they really were. He stood there for a long time, not speaking to anybody, acknowledging a duke or two as they swept by. Then he saw her.
She was wearing a white dress, cheap and coarse and out of fashion, and she was backed up against the wall, as if the noise and the spectacle alarmed her. She was very pretty, but she wore no jewels, and could have easily passed for a maid out of uniform. The Prince experienced a spark of recognition, but it faded in a second. He did not know what on earth possessed him, but he found his feet making their way toward her. He stopped, and she looked at him, and something burst like the flash of fire, or the popping of a balloon.
“All this,” said the Prince before he knew what he was saying, “it’s all rather boring, don’t you think?”
Nine
Housekeeping and Other Domestic Services
Had anyone walked by, they would have stopped and stared and maybe even laughed, for it was not common to see a young woman asleep on the palace steps, completely naked. But these steps were hardly the grand staircase, they were only the meagre little back stairs that led to the ocean, green and slippery with moss, unused and forgotten. When the mermaid awoke, the heat of the midday sun burning her skin, she instinctively threw herself back into the ocean, for it all seemed a dream. But she could no longer breathe the water, and when she brought her fingers to her neck, she found the gills had disappeared.
Elated, she struggled to kick her legs in the water to propel her to shore, but they were not working. They were quite useless in fact, only serving to edge her along inch by inch, and she flapped her arms to hurry the process. Her head felt too heavy for her body and it kept sinking underwater, and the ocean water stung her nostrils as it spurted out. The seawater tasted foul too, and it was so damned wet, and she was tiring rapidly. Perhaps her sister had been right after all – what good were legs if you could not even swim a few meters?
Finally, she reached the staircase, saved by the shallowness of low tide, and with a great heave hoisted herself onto the step only to realise that she did not know where to put her legs. They slipped underneath her, and thumped against the stone and before she knew it, she had lost her balance and fell into the water again, this time ramming her hip against the rocks. Ocean water overcame her, and the mermaid spluttered, determined to try again.
This time, she curled her legs under her in a crouching position, but her feet were small and smooth and away she went, slipping on the moss. She heard a strange noise above her, like a chuckle, but nobody was there.
After a few attempts at this, the princess finally managed to crawl on her knees up a few steps to where the stone was dry. She felt sheepish moving about like this, but she convinced herself that no one would ever know. She grasped the railing and attempted to stand, but her knees buckled and she nearly fell. Steadying herself, she placed a foot on the next step and as she transferred her weight onto it, a searing pain like fire entered her. She remembered the witch’s final words and knew they were no lie. She bit her upper lip with the pain and tasted her own blood, and suddenly recalled this sensation the night before and tried to feel for her tongue.
It was not there. There was something at the back of her throat, a stump perhaps, but the tongue was gone all the same. She opened her mouth to exclaim but no sound came. She tried again to form the words, but there was nothing but air. She tried to yell – nothing. The witch had swallowed her speech.
Perhaps it was all for the best. The mermaid did not know how to explain herself to the humans, or whether they would believe her. She did not know if they spoke more or less the same language, so it was a very good thing that she could not attempt speech, or she might give herself away. In fact, she was not sure where to live and what to eat, for it was certain she could not live in the water or on these steps. However, fish were plentiful on these banks and she could easily catch a few, if she could only teach herself to swim in her new form. And worst of all, she did not know how to clothe herself. All of these thoughts consumed her, which was all very well and good, because they took her mind off the pain.
As she staggered up the steps, she saw that there was a pile of something waiting on the landing. When she realised what it was, her mood instantly brightened, for surely God wanted her here to send such a gift! She sat down beside it and unfolded every item, laying them out on the dry bricks to examine them. Her very first human clothes.
There was a black dress, calf-length and plain, and a frilly white pinafore, complete with a starched apron. There was a little black cap and a pair of stockings. There was a pair of large, puffy pants, beige-coloured, with frills about the edge, and a strange contraption consisting of two cups and a wide band. There were also smart black shoes, with laces. It took a great deal of time and pain until the mermaid had assembled herself, for she did not realise at first that she was to wear all the clothing at once, and they were too many hooks and buttons. She had no idea at first that the stockings were for her legs, after unsuccessfully attempting to slide them up her arms and over her head. Her wet hair and back seeped through her new clothes. Also, the brassiere hurt her breasts and whatever it was that lay between her legs chafed against the underpants.
When she was assembled, she practiced her steps, a hand on the railing for guidance. The shoes pinched her, but she could not feel it, such was the roaring pain of her every step. She was deep in concentration when a mighty hand reached out and grasped her arm, and she let out a silent gasp as she whirled around to see an ugly, red face grimacing at her.