The Octopus Queen (A Little Mermaid Retelling)

23 - A Challenge

I forget about Amanthara's suggestion and go on with my daily routine. It is a boring one, to be sure: checking the seas for fish, spying on the duke's ships should they come by, tending my garden. I have tried to have my father join me here, but every time I ask, he refuses.

"I'm too old, Sina," he tells me with a sad little smile.

For a long time, I have denied that statement, but the last time I saw him for one of our discrete meetings (done at great peril to us both), he truly looked old: lined face, grey hair, knotted joints. I send fish and lobsters his way, to keep him fed, and potions to ease his pains, but he still will not come.

At least I can be assured that the duke, no matter his hatred for me, refrains from harassing Papa.

I'm in my garden when one of the selkie guards approaches me. The garden is situated in the back of the castle, where the spires are the tallest. I can see it clearly from my tower.

Gardening was not a hobby I pursued when I was younger. All my dedication was fixed on my craft. But I soon realized that I needed something else to occupy my time and gardening fit the bill. Flowers and vegetables and trees of the fruit and flowering variety thrive here, their roots sunk deep into rich soil brought to the island by merfolk and selkies. Standing in the middle of this vast oasis reminds me of how colorless Farbarrow was, with its dull shades of browns and greys. While I am not happy here, at least I am somewhat content.

"My queen," the guard says quietly, respectfully.

I look up and push the wide-brimmed straw hat back from my face, wipe dirt-streaked hands on old canvas trousers. "Yes?"

"One of the duke's ships is arriving, waving the flag of parlay."

Duke Lucien sends a parlay ship about twice a year. We have never come to terms in this whole time.

"Very well," I sigh, stripping work gloves from my hands and settling them in a wicker basket next to a trowel, shears, and three-tined claw. We will do this dance again.

The guard trails me as I walk through the garden and into the castle. Tiny seashells and bits of glass are inlaid in the rock paths, a nice contrast to the black uniformity around me. It took me about four months to craft that particular spell.

We pass through the throne room, down the long hallway, and out the front doors. Statues of sharks, dolphins, whales, and other large creatures of the sea line the walkway to the lone dock. This part of the castle is stark, foreboding—just as I intended.

The duke's ship bobs just outside the rocky barrier, a white flag flying at half mast. A single tower rises above the archway over the dock. I climb the steps, the selkie guard not far behind.   "Gentlemen!" I call out, casually leaning on the balcony. "What have you brought me this time?"

The duke is not an imaginative man, I've learned. Over the last sixteen years, all he has offered me is safe passage through the kingdom to the neighboring, landlocked principality of Lortham. Tiny, insignificant Lortham, with its border on the Hallsig Desert.

No, thank you.

The first officer on the ship turns and gestures to some sailors standing next to a large, tarp-covered object. My eyes narrow as the selkie guard behind me tightens his grip on his spear. The sailors pull and the tarp spills downward, revealing the massive barrel of a cannon.

No. I squint. That's not a cannon.

Eight long, thin barrels are connected to each other in a cylindrical shape, mounted to a sturdy oak and steel base on wheels. A giant crank sticks up from the back.