Blossom

Lyssandria’s eyes narrowed, and I recall she got the most serious expression. “If you want to rid yourself of the curse, you simply have to break the moon.”

I blinked at her incredulously, and the witch threw her head back and laughed once again.

“Come, Delphine,” Father’s voice was disgusted. “Let’s get you home.”

We left the witch there, laughing hilariously to herself beside the sea. I wondered how the old woman would make the long climb back to the castle without our help, but Father didn’t seem to care.

I never saw Lyssandria after that. In spite of all Father’s efforts, my transformation happened again two weeks later on the night of the full moon, just as the witch predicted.

Father was insistent I keep out of sight and stay well away from the palace for the duration of my curse.

“No one must know the crown princess of Sanos has become a—” he wouldn’t say the word monster, though I know he was thinking it.

The poor man, so incredibly proud. What a shock it was for him to have his daughter cursed like this. Though I personally didn’t mind so much.

Being a siren for two weeks a month meant freedom from palace duties and expectations. It meant going where I liked, doing what I liked, exploring and playing all day. Though it had its downsides, being isolated, lacking ordinary comforts and human food, in many ways I’ve been very happy, more myself as a monster than I ever was as a human being.  

And, when I’ve had just about all I can stand of my own company, of eating seaweed and raw fish, on the night of the new moon, I return to the palace and undergo the now familiar transformation, and resume my life as the crown princess Delphine Margaret Alba Vasilias.

Thus in an endlessly repeating pattern has the cycle continued uninterrupted for the last two years. And it probably would have continued like this without a single variation, if I hadn’t met him.

                 I fell for Eamon in the first minute. Hearing his voice, being drawn to him from across the water, it felt like fate. And when I saw his perfect sun bronzed face, his dark cobalt hair and brooding, sea gray eyes, I was smitten.

                 I knew Father would never forgive me for saving his life after showing myself to him, but I couldn’t help myself. There was no way I could just leave him on that rock to die.

Maybe it’s because he was the first human I interacted with in my siren form, or maybe it’s just because I had a huge crush on him from the start, but Eamon and I got close very quickly. I gave him my name as Blossom, which was my late mother’s nickname for me, and he used it so effortlessly, never guessing how special and intimate the moniker was. And just like that, he became special to me.

I didn’t tell him I was the princess. I felt it would spoil everything if he knew. I didn’t even tell him I was human, though I think a part of him guessed. He’s so smart, always thinking two steps ahead, I’m sure he’ll figure it out soon, if he hasn’t already.

Now the question is, what will I tell him when he does? Never mind the fact that I’m human half the time, what will he say if he finds out I’m the princess? Will he take advantage of me? Or will he think the difference in our status is too great, and leave me forever? Just the thought of it is more painful than I can describe.

Last time when he said he was leaving I bribed him with a chest of gold. If it’s Eamon, I don’t think I’d mind if he took advantage of me again. So long as he stayed and sang me his pretty songs. Not even the palace bards have voices as beautiful as his. Certainly none of them are so handsome.

I’m thinking of him again, thinking of his hot, masculine body and the taste of his kisses. It’s a good thing I was in fish form this last week with my legs stuck together, otherwise I think I would have gotten myself into a lot of trouble with that boy. But it can’t be helped. I’m crazy about him. 

We’re like two magnets, perfectly opposite, perfectly attracted. At this point, I suspect my soul is already stuck so tightly to his, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to let him go.

I don’t think too hard whether or not I’m being fair to Eamon, or if this relationship of ours is a really bad idea. It’s not my habit to think too much of anything, or to worry about the future. I know I like him, and he likes me, and that’s enough for me. The rest will work itself out, somehow. Eventually…

In the meantime, I have a kingdom to run.

Having returned to the palace, I am greeted by Lois Karra, my lady in waiting who doubles as my personal aide. Twelve years older than me, she is a strict, no-nonsense woman with high standards for herself and even higher standards for me. And, she is one of only a handful of people who know the truth about my curse.

“Your bath is ready, Your Highness.”

I cross the room to the luxurious bathtub—luxurious, at least, to anyone else. But after coming from the wide open sea, it looks to me more like a cramped little fish tank. I test the water with my hand and grimace at the temperature. So hot!

There are more differences between my two forms than just the presence or absence of a tail. As a mermaid I am conditioned to endure colder temperatures, but as a human my body is far less tolerant, even frail. I know from experience a bath is needed to warm myself up, but that doesn’t make the ritual any less shocking to my system.

I drop my robe to the floor and slip into the tub. The water feels scalding hot to my skin. The scent of perfumed oils is overpowering and unpleasant, and I endure Lois’ treatment of my hair and body with the usual amount of griping.

“Do I have to do this?” I complain, already knowing the answer. “I hate it so much…”

To these complaints, Lois has no reply. She is as stoic as I am noisy, and she’s used to my whining. She’s been my chief lady in waiting now for five years, so she’s already seen and heard it all.

It’s twenty long minutes of furious scrubbing before I meet her exacting standard of cleanliness. Then after toweling me off and dressing me in my nightgown, she sets me in front of the vanity where she begins the long and arduous task of combing the tangles out of my hair.

“Ow, that hurts! Not so hard! Ow!”

Between my protests I pick up the stack of reports in front of me, notes Lois has complied on all that’s gone on in my absence from the most trivial details of palace gossip to the most pressing affairs of state. I must familiarize myself with all of it and bring myself up to speed quickly, if I’m to blend seamlessly into my role tomorrow as crown princess.

Glancing at the first few lines I sigh, already bored, and toss the reports back to the vanity.

“Give me the short version. I’m not in the mood for reading.”

“Your Highness is never in the mood for reading,” Lois reminds me without a trace of humor in her voice.

“Which begs the question—why write these reports in the first place?” I snap irritably as she works out an especially stubborn tangle.

“I write them in the hopes you will one day change your frivolous ways and take your duties seriously.”

I hear this kind of criticism often. People accuse me of not caring for the kingdom, of not taking my role as princess seriously just because I don’t do things the way they expect. Of all people Lois should know how unfounded these accusations are, but she is unerringly traditional, and unbending in her ideas of how a good princess should look and act. It’s as insulting as it is tiresome, and once again I catch myself snapping at her. 

“I’m not reading them so tell me what’s been happening or I’ll go out there tomorrow and wing it.”

Without a sigh, without so much as missing even a single stroke of her combing, Lois begins listing the points in the reports.                

“An envoy from Rorthage is scheduled to arrive sometime this week. There’s speculation the emperor is going to raise the grain tax to fuel his war in the east…”

Putting the pain from the brushing out of my mind for the time being, I focus all my attention on her words. I may refuse to read reports, but I have no problem listening to them, and meticulously committing every point to memory. If I’m quizzed tomorrow there won’t be a single point I miss.

“…and I believe that’s everything,” Lois says, lowering her hands to reveal beautifully braided twintails. I admire the effect in the mirror with satisfaction.

Really, I am very pretty. And I’ll look even prettier tomorrow, with my pinkish blond hair worn in perfectly curling waves.

“Do you have any questions for me, Your Highness? Or would you like to head to bed now?”

“Just one. You say Father’s had several private meetings with Lady Philomela Gataki,” I say, and I watch Lois’ usually perfectly composed face twitch slightly. “I don’t suppose you have any idea what those two have been up to?”

I don’t have to ask whether or not Lois is in love with my father. Though she tries her best, this plain, bookish aide cannot conceal the flame in her heart that burns for a man fifteen years her senior, the handsome king regent. And so I’m sure as it concerns my father, there is not a single point about his affairs these last two weeks that Lois has failed to notice.

“I dare not speculate, Your Highness.”

“But doubtless you have your suspicions.”

I watch her jaw work in the mirror. Her small frame is very stiff, and a vein of frustration shows in her forehead.

“Truthfully, Your Highness,” she speaks at length, both her fists clenched tightly at her sides, “I did happen to overhear something of their conversation this morning. It would seem…”

“Yes?”

“It would seem your father is thinking of remarrying…”

A jar of facial cream clatters to the floor as I jerk around, eyes wide with shock and instant fury.

“He’s thinking of what?!”