And so he began to talk like he had hardly talked before, all about his kingdom, his subjects, and the fruit he was so recently besotted with. The little mermaid understood only a fraction of what he said, but she smiled when he smiled, and raised her eyebrows in astonishment when he leaned toward her to mention something especially curious, and once, when he was particularly excited, his hands flapping round and round, a lock of hair falling into his eyes, she laughed.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Instantly, she clapped her hands over her mouth, mortified. What was the sound that had just escaped her? It was ugly, hideous, and she remembered the last time she heard it and shuddered. And the way it had rippled out of her throat, unbid and unwelcome, like surprise vomit. Why was the Prince looking at her like that? Why were people turning around to stare?
The Prince looked at her sternly. Aware that his guests were beginning to talk, he pushed his face close to hers and whispered, “Follow me.” She had no choice but to run after him, her hands still locked over her mouth in case the awful sound billowed forth again.
He did not stop until they had left the vicinity of the ballroom and entered a long, dark corridor that the little mermaid recognised as the hallway to the Prince’s old chambers. He turned to her and took a hold of her wrists, forcing her arms down by her sides. Her skin seared at his touch.
“You can speak!” he declared. “Why did you pretend otherwise?”
But the little mermaid shook her head and tried to form the words, and nothing came out but a pitiful, gagging sound.
“I warn you, I am not to be trifled with!” said the Prince severely. “Are you trying to make a fool of me?” Indeed, he was angry. But perhaps this anger had less to do with being tricked and more to do with the fact that he had felt something unusual for this girl, and now his pride was hurt.
No! mouthed the little mermaid, and suddenly her vision became blurred and her eyes began to sting. The Prince instantly softened.
“Don’t cry,” he said, “don’t cry.” The little mermaid did not know what cry meant, but she was relieved by his quieter tones. “How can you laugh like that when you cannot speak? It is impossible.”
And he took her face in his hands as if examining a sea-specimen, or even the head of his little black dog, and her mouth slowly parted. The creature within her chest began to beat heavily, and burn with a slow fire as the Prince inserted his finger inside of her mouth, and ran it along the jagged ridges of her teeth. She opened her mouth wider as he tilted her head toward the light, as his fingertip explored the bottom cavern of her jaw.
“Hmm,” he said seriously, and released her. “It seems you have no tongue. It’s very odd. But it’s so dark out here and I am no expert. I insist you see a physician at your first convenience.”
Before the little mermaid could wonder what a physician was, they were interrupted by the sound of discreet coughing behind them.
“Uncle!” stammered the Prince, and he jumped back from the girl as if she were contagious.
The King’s brother chuckled and approached them, and the little mermaid instantly began to wonder if she had done something wrong. “At your ease, my boy,” said the Uncle, “and who is this young lady?” And he looked at the mermaid as if he had forgotten entirely who she was.
“Funny you should ask that,” began the Prince, “because I’ve been wondering myself.”
The Uncle peered at her closer, and the little mermaid was frightened of the great animal on his face, and drew back.
“I don’t think she likes you much, Uncle,” commented the Prince dryly.
“No, indeed,” agreed the King’s brother, but he did not look at all angry. “I think I know this one. No, not in that way, thank you very much! I believe she is the nameless one, a foundling, if you will.”
“She is an orphan, like me,” said the Prince, and looked at the girl sadly. “She’s a mute too, you know.”
“Ah, but she is not deaf. It may seem rather rude to mention her disability as if she were not standing among us.”
“I meant no offence,” said the Prince softly, and gave the mermaid a stiff little bow.
“I think the real question is,” said the Uncle, crossing his arms over his chest in a businesslike way, “what are you going to do with her?”
The Prince looked at the girl, shivering at the unexpected attention, her hair in tangles and wearing the plainest dress imaginable. She seemed so frightened and forlorn that he saw himself in her place. He looked at her hard. He tried to see through her thoughts, through her pale skin and into her heart, but all he could find were images of himself. As he gazed at her with intensity, he could see a little boy marching solemnly down the city streets at his own mother’s funeral procession. He saw tear-drenched coal-black eyes watching precisely where the snake-handled dagger sliced flesh. There was dark water and a constricting sensation of lungs. There was breathlessness. And finally, there were legless women and the air smelled of oranges.
“I believe I shall make her my companion,” he declared.
Twelve
The Many Advantages of a Personal Maid
The rays of the sun warmed her skin as she lay in bed, toes curling in anticipation. She thought about the God and how much he had wanted her here and how right she was to trust her instinct. She felt exceedingly grateful, although she had known all along that the Prince would fall in love with her. It was impossible for it to be otherwise. Didn’t she haul his drowning body miles in black water, her own strength siphoned into his body? Didn’t she stroke the planes of his skin, and he looked right at her? Wasn’t it meant to be from the moment she had first surfaced and seen him, lying on the bed of his sea-level chamber, lights glinting like water on his face?
She had always known it was the only outcome. It was a matter of science, really. A matter of addition. Action plus action equals result.
She pressed her hands to her chest and wondered what it would feel like to finally have an Immortal Soul, that cherished golden drop of eternity, flutter within her. She had heard that there was a place where worshippers regularly went to meet God, a place where there were words and music and kneeling and singing. Perhaps this place could give her more insight into the mystery. However, she had heard that there was a ritual consuming of someone’s flesh and blood, and that reminded her of the sea-witch, and she was frightened. Perhaps it was a misunderstanding. Either way, nobody in the palace seemed terribly enthusiastic about it all, or had anything remarkable to say about the matter. She could not understand why humans were so blasé about their maker.
Sunlight bathed her new quarters and she looked around with pleasure. Her bed was an enormous, four-poster affair with all manner of pillows and quilts lodged into materials so soft they felt like the inside of thighs. There were enormous windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, where all she could see was ocean. There were chandeliers and heavy mahogany furnishings. There were carpets so thick that feet could sink up to the ankle.
And the wardrobe was a sight to behold. When the royal servants were sent to the upper housekeeping quarters to fetch her belongings, they had returned empty-handed. They reported that there was nothing worth bringing back, and somehow, a trove of gowns were fetched from nowhere and carried up numerous floors. And here they were, perched inside the enormous wardrobe and winking at her with their seductive finery. The mermaid wondered how on earth she was to scrub bathroom tiles with all that on.