Well, maybe humans were, as a race, just fallible…Everybody wanted something. Maybe it was as banal and “evil” as gold, but maybe it was as sweet and basic as true love. Maybe it was a baby you couldn’t have, or some way to keep your family from starving. Maybe you needed a friend. Maybe you just wanted to believe that all these things could be received as gifts, from the universe or God or the spirits.
And here is an evil, comely witch who promises it all. It would be so easy to overlook her shortcomings with your wish so close to being granted…Maybe only luck saved humans from having to deal with terrible creatures like Vanessa on a regular basis, who make people sign away their—oh! Wait a moment…！
“Vanessa, you cannot hurt me,” Eric said aloud, feeling a very Mad Prince smile forming on his lips. He loomed over her.
“You…signed…a contract.”
“I didn’t! I never!”
“A marriage contract.”
The shocked look on her face was infinitely pleasing.
“Princess Vanessa, you signed a legally binding document in which you promised to have and to hold, to support, to act as a partner in, our royal marriage.”
She looked sick. Actually sick. Green and yellow, mouth hanging open like a dog’s. She swallowed dryly once or twice. Her eyes glazed over as she stared at something that wasn’t there, between the floor and his face.
Maybe she was remembering their wedding day. It all happened very fast, thanks to her overwhelming need to win against Ariel. There was a thrown-together cake, a hastily fitted white dress, and a piece of parchment quickly scrawled out by the one counsel who stayed in the seaside palace of Tirulia.
（Who, it’s only fair to say, never thought he would have to do anything so crucial and important; his job was mostly a sinecure, reading through various real estate documents and decrees while lounging by the beach.）
He had pleaded with Eric not to marry at least until the king and queen had been informed and Vanessa’s family had been checked out. Under the spell, Eric had shaken his head and shoved the paper under the poor man’s pen.
Still, even under pressure, the lawyer had managed to turn out a fairly solid little marriage contract that referred to previous contracts with a lot of ibids, see-aboves, and refer-tos.
With a flourish and a smirk, Vanessa had deftly signed her name, adding what looked like a cute little octopus as a heraldic crest. The sun set, they kissed, and it was over for Ariel and her father.
Eric smiled indulgently. “As I understand you immortal creatures—and I do, because I’m a Mad Prince, and also because I’m married to one immortal creature and friends with another—contracts are even more important to you people than they are to us. You have signed with your soul.”
“Not legal. Not binding,” Vanessa wheezed, trying to catch her breath and stave off what looked like a panic attack. “Signed…as Vanessa…not me…”
“Well, the thing is, you kind of look exactly like Vanessa,” Eric said, cocking his head and pretending to look her over. “I think even someone as unschooled in legalese as I could probably make the case that as long as you look like Vanessa, live on land like Vanessa, and have no tentacles—like Vanessa—well, you are pretty much one hundred percent Vanessa. Although Vanessa, it’s true, might actually be a girl prone to fits of dementia who believes herself to be a half-octopus undersea witch. Oh, and by the way: there’s always a line in royal marriage contracts that deals with demented spouses, especially wives. I don’t think you’ll like what it spells out.”
Although she still wasn’t looking at him, Ursula’s eyes widened as she realized the implications of what he was saying.
“And speaking of wives, I should also add that there are other, nastier little clauses in typical royal contracts. Ancient stuff, like what happens if you fail to produce a male heir, most of which would be dismissible in court today. But even in our modern era of astronomy and steam engines, well, I’m afraid Tirulia is still a bit backward. Anything you own is technically mine, any inheritance you receive is mine, any property you manage is mine, any decision involving purchases or transference of goods, schooling of children, firing or hiring of domestic help…it’s all. Ultimately. Mine.”
He took a step closer with each final word and grinned down at her.
Vanessa’s eyes finally cleared; she looked at him with raw hate. Eric repulsed the look with a sunny smile.
“You see,” he added almost apologetically, “you immortal creatures have your powers, your promises, your wish fulfillments, and your contracts, it’s true.