The Mermaid's Blessing

One

I'd never seen the ocean, even for a moment, but I knew it was beautiful by the sound it made when it crashed against the other side of the castle wall. I used to sit there for hours, waiting for a large enough wave to create the roaring noise I adored so much, until father realised where I was sneaking off to at night when the servants checked on me, but had no luck finding where I'd gone. I was seven, adventurous and unafraid of anything besides the side of Papa that I saw when I was brought to him. He'd at least made an effort to hide his drinking from me back then, keeping himself out of sight so I wouldn't stumble upon one of his bad days. That night, all restraint went out the window, along with a chair and a wine goblet he threw.

The red handprint across my face seemingly remained there for weeks, stinging more and more whenever I thought of it.

"Poor child," the maids whispered, "but it must be so hard to look at her, after the passing of his wife."

"She died at sea, didn't she? They say that's what drove the duke mad."

None of them noticed me listening, for the most part, and if they did, they didn't care all that much.

"He won't let his daughter near water, for fear of her meeting the same fate. That's why the small Lady can't leave the walls. Of course," one of them would glance my way sadly, "I'd say she's in more danger here, with his temper..."

"Please," someone else would scoff, "a little slap means nothing. Lord Sanders won't harm her, not when she's been promised to the son of Thespa's most prominent family."

    They were partially right, I suppose. He didn't harm me, not physically, but after he learned of my trips to the wall, our home became a different place altogether for me. My doors were locked every night, without fail. The numbers of tutors sent increased, filling my days to the brim with so much work, learning and studying that I had no chance to do anything of my own accord. I saw my father, the Lord of Porteur, maybe twice a year, depending on whether or not he chose to join me for my birthdays. Even when he did, the stink of alcohol wafted from his every word, none of which were kind.

    It would be alright, they told me, when I became formally engaged to Hendry D'laine, who'd take me to live with him in his manor, far from here. That's what I was being groomed for, I would be reminded often, every time I fumbled a word in another language, wobbled as I curtsied, or cried out of exhaustion. Years passed, time took its toll on my father, the walls continued to loom around the palace, and a new obstacle presented itself.

    What had once been a mild illness that pained me in my youth once in a few years became a debilitating fever, punctuated by fits of burning and driving me to borderline madness six or seven times a year. Not one physician was able to alleviate it, let alone cure me. None were able to explain it either, especially since I was in the best of health at all other times. This had to be concealed, of course, so nothing would disqualify me from my marriage arrangements. It didn't matter how much pain I was in, or how little I cared to leave my bed, if there were eyes watching me, I'd need to perform as though nothing was the matter.

    Is it any wonder that I grew to resent my future husband, without ever having met him? In my mind, all of this strife surrounded me so that he would find me to his liking, which I was less than pleased about. I said as much to one of my tutors, when I was fifteen and rebellious, which led to new punishments. Never physical, of course, since that could leave a mark.

    Everything that took place during the nineteen years I'd been alive led me to this moment, waiting behind a curtain at the top of the grand staircase that would spill out into the filled banquet hall. I could hear them, shuffling, laughing, eating, dancing... music wafted above it all, sounding to me like a funeral march despite the vivacious beat. The party had started hours ago, without me. There, on the other side of this oppressive red velvet curtain, stood my father, who would be preparing the announcement, and my soon-to-be fiancé. The former would already be drunk, no doubt about it, and the latter...