“Out for a wee swim on the job, are you?” thundered the face with a big wet mouth. “I’ll have your job for this!”
The little mermaid spluttered and stared back at her assailant, utterly perplexed.
“Eh, what’s your name then?” cried the woman. The little mermaid opened and closed her mouth rapidly, desperately seeking to convey that she could not speak. “Scared, are you?” said the woman, “Scared of losing your job? Or scared of me?” And she shook the little mermaid until she heard her teeth rattle.
“Enough!” came a voice from the hallway, and there were loud footsteps as the woman had the sense to thrust the little mermaid away from her. She landed in a painful heap on the floor, and looked up in time to see a large, powerful man approach. With a jolt, the mermaid realised that he looked a little like her Prince, only broader and older, with the exception of what appeared to be a hairy animal growing on his face. She felt a rush of pity for him, for it must be terribly hard to exist with such a large parasite attached to the head. His brows were drawn together tightly and in his eyes was a fierce expression as he looked down upon the woman who had accosted her. Her body was bent in a strange position, head down, one foot tucked behind the other, both hands holding out the hem of her skirt. “Name and rank,” demanded the gentleman softly.
The woman mumbled something, and it seemed to the little mermaid that she was quivering. “Lower Housekeeper, your Highness,” stammered the ugly woman, her eyes to the floor.
“I see,” said the gentleman coldly, and he turned his back on her and approached the little mermaid. A wild sort of panic began to descend on the girl as she felt the stranger’s keen eyes upon her. Ignoring the pain, she staggered to her feet, wondering if she ought to bend her body the way the housekeeper continued to. But it looked difficult and was sure to hurt.
He opened his mouth to speak to her when the housekeeper wailed, “It was all her fault, Sir! Swimming in the ocean during work hours, with no business to, mind! And she’s disrespectful, Sir! Too high-and-mighty to tell me her name, and me her better!”
“Silence!” commanded the man, and he looked at the woman like one would look at a slug in the salad. “I did not realise that the palace prohibits its staff from entertaining themselves to their own amusement on their days off.”
“Days…off?” stuttered the wretched woman.
“And even if it were not so, you will find that this particular staff member services the royal wing of the palace, and is therefore under the jurisdiction of the Upper Housekeeper,” continued the man in a voice like ice.
“Upper…Housekeeper,” stammered the poor woman.
“Be about your business then, woman! You’re one to speak of laziness and procrastination. Lead by example, as my brother always used to say.”
The woman regained enough wits to curtsy to the man again and scurry away. He turned to the little mermaid and smiled kindly. “First day, is it?” he inquired gently, “Better stay out of that one’s way. She’s a menace.”
But the little mermaid could not see his smile, for it was hiding behind the animal, and she was terrified to be in such proximity to it. She wondered what she should do if it leapt off his face and attacked her.
“You had better come with me,” he said with a sigh, “and I’ll show you where you belong. And by the way, your apron,” he continued, pointing to the white article she had tied around her shoulders, “is not a cape. It goes around your waist.”
The palace was more amazing inside than she could ever had imagined. As she walked through the passages, struggling to keep up with the long strides of her rescuer, she found that the sheer magnificence of the sights helped keep her mind off the pain that ravaged every step. They passed through halls with floors that shone like silver, and stained-glass windows depicting creatures she could never have dreamed of. She gaped at the large domed ceilings of the atriums, and there were gardens in every passing courtyard, with brightly coloured land-corals blooming. The smell was heavenly.
And the people! They were every shape and size, and wore all manner of clothing. The men were astounding – so large yet graceful, with loud bellowing voices and prominent noses. She loved the way they seemed at constant invisible battle with each other, each trying to look bigger or more powerful than the other. The women were beautiful with their black-rimmed eyes and powdered skin and hair all colours, twisted into elaborate piles atop their heads. They flapped their hands, and they simpered and they laughed. The sound was enchanting. Once or twice she noticed that some girls wore the very same outfit that she did, and the thought of their uniformity was comforting.
They happened upon a great stairwell and began to ascend it. Portraits of past kings lined the walls, and the little mermaid was glad to recognise the eyes in several of the paintings. As they arose, they passed the last and final portrait and she halted. She stared up at the picture and beheld her Prince, perhaps a few years younger, bearing a sobering expression. He was dressed in riding boots and a cape, and by his feet was a little black creature. The gentleman made no comment, and stood with his hands folded patiently in front of him, until the mermaid came to her senses and hesitantly met his gaze. They fell into step again, but she threw back her head more than once to see that beloved face, with eyes that seemed to be following her.
The Upper Housekeeper was a tall, angular woman with a pinched expression and copious amounts of wiry red hair stashed under her cap. She frowned when she saw the little mermaid, but lowered herself in a deep curtsy in front of the gentleman.
“A new recruit,” explained the man, and he placed his hand softly on the small of the mermaid’s back to propel her forward. The mermaid blushed scarlet at the heat and unexpectancy of his touch, and lowered her eyes in embarrassment.
The Upper Housekeeper was not a stupid woman, and she registered the comely, flushing girl in front of her, and her arrival with the King’s own brother (who had quite a reputation) and put two and two together. “Very well, your Highness, she responded pleasantly. “I think window duty perhaps?”
“Perhaps. Sweeping and mopping possibly, and a little dusting? Nothing heavy, mind you.”
“Aye, the poor thing looks too frail for the laundry room,” acknowledged the Upper Housekeeper, eyeing the mermaid sceptically.
“And when she learns the ropes, I expect to see her in service.”
The Upper Housekeeper failed to conceal her shock. “In service, my Lord? Already?”
The Uncle looked amused. “Yes, my dear woman, in service to myself, the Prince, and any monarchs who deign to visit our kingdom.” The creature in the mermaid’s chest lurched.
“But she has no experience! Forgive me, your highness, but I have served this household for thirty years and there are certain attributes one must possess to be in service, attributes that take years of proven trustworthiness and diligence –“
“It is on my recommendation.” The Uncle’s gaze pierced the Upper Housekeeper and after a moment, she nodded her head gravely.
“As you wish, my lord,” replied the woman, looking over the mermaid as a prospective buyer would a racehorse.
“You will find she is utterly trustworthy,” commented the gentleman, “because you see, she is completely dumb.” And he turned on his heel and walked away, without as much as a second glance.