“My father did not put on pantomimes or act in farces. My mother did not perform burlesque. My station does not allow for such gross frippery. No one would take me seriously again.”
“Your mother’s voice was terrible.”
“Sebastian!”
“Sorry, but it’s the truth. And you are not your father…”
“No, but would you suggest this if I were a prince? Somehow I think not.”
“But Ariel! Think of your people! They have lived without hearing your voice for so long! Don’t they deserve to hear your singing?”
“My singing is my singing,” she said, bending down to put her eyes on level with the little crab. “My voice is my voice. I gave it away myself and I got it back again myself. It is not for anyone else’s enjoyment or amusement. If I want to sing, I will sing. Right now I use my voice to give orders and run a kingdom. Someday, if our situation changes, perhaps I will consider your idea. Until that time, however, I ask that you not speak to me of it again.”
Sebastian clicked his claws together in the crab equivalent of fists and ground his mandibles, trying to keep from saying anything. Flounder put a steadying fin on his back.
“Let it go,” he whispered, pulling the little crab away.
As the two left together, Sebastian might have been heard to mutter something about her being exactly like her father…
Ariel gloomily looked over the piles of paperwork that were her “reward” after the meeting.
She sighed and tapped on her desk with a pen—a sharp-tipped whelk—and rested her chin on her hand.
It was no use. She couldn’t concentrate. All she could think about was her father…and losing her temper at Sebastian.
She would have to make it up to the little crab somehow. Maybe she would commission him to write and prepare a celebratory chorus for something. Maybe that would assuage his wounded ego.
She thought about her duet with Eric. It was almost uncanny how the boy she had fallen in love with once had managed to enrapture her again as his current older self. He was sadder, captive to a strange fate, but still possessed the heart of the old prince and his love for music. After all this, even if they were confined to their own worlds forever, she would love the chance to sing with him once last time.
…nope. Actually, she didn’t want that. She was going to be honest; that’s what queens did.
She wanted to kiss him.
She wanted to embrace him. She wanted to try spending time with him somewhere—his world or hers, it didn’t matter. One more duet was meaningless. She wanted to own his heart.
That hadn’t changed.
“Working hard?”
Ariel jumped. Attina had swum up in her usual sneaky, silent way.
“I just…There’s so much here. Got lost for a second.”
“Is life down here getting boring?”
“Attina, just—all right,” Ariel said, throwing her pen down. It bounced slowly in the water, raising up a little bit of settled coral dust on the edge of her perfect marble desk before eventually skittering off the side and over to the seafloor. The two mermaids watched it in surprise.
“A little defensive, aren’t we?”
“You’re picking at me. Please just admit it.”
“Settle down, little sister. I know that you’re upset about not getting our father back—again.” But before Ariel could open her mouth to yell at her, Attina continued, louder. “And I know you are taking it much harder than the rest of us. Please.”
She added, more softly:
“I know how hard you’re trying. But you may, at some point, have to admit to yourself that it might not be enough. That it’s too hard a task even for the great Ariel, Queen of the Sea and Walker on Land.”
Ariel opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t find the right words, overcome with what her sister had said. It was so understanding, so deep, so…
“Also, you are completely bored under the sea. It’s totally obvious.”
Ariel snapped her mouth shut. Attina was looking at knickknacks on her desk, specifically not at her, but there was a twinkle in her eye.
The Queen of the Sea managed a little smile.
“Well…to be honest, it is boring. But I have a thousand other, more important things on my mind! Why has Ursula continued to let our father live despite my repeated rescue attempts, and yet refused to use him as a bargaining chip? It’s unsettling, and it’s probably for very bad reasons. Where is he right now? What is she doing to him?
“I’m worried about the fate of two kingdoms and one old butler. I’m worried about time passing…and meanwhile, I have to go over some bizarre ancient contract specifying which member of the lineage of Kravi gets to perform which Rite of Proserpine in the Equinocturnal Celebrations. Like it matters?”