Ganeon tried to stay away. But before too long, Ursula had reeled him back in with flattery, seduction, and reminders that she couldn't truly harm his younger brother.
He played the only angle he had: refusing to marry Ursula until they came up with a plan that was acceptable to both of them. And he told himself that by staying close to her, keeping abreast of her ideas and plots, he was ultimately protecting Triton.
To his great relief, Ursula agreed to his condition. She was simply buying time; the truth was she was short on ideas. She couldn't figure out how to incapacitate King Triton without sabotaging herself. And yet, she knew if the king was plunged into deep despair for some reason...say, from losing his beloved wife...it would provide a good pretext for why he could no longer rule.
She knew what to do with Marielle, at least. She simply had to trust that the answer would come regarding Triton.
In the hopes that spying would reveal some options, Ursula kept Flotsam and Jetsam rather busy. They couldn't get too close to His Highness, but Ursula spent hours watching Marielle through their eyes. The ornately decorated rooms she favored provided many hiding spots for the eels.
The downside? Listening to her constant humming and singing as she rocked her babies. Poor sweet children, Ursula thought. How their heads must ache from the constant noise.
The upside was confirmation of the Queen's scheming.
"Ah ah ah!" she'd admonish in a sing-songy voice. "Attina, you keep this up and Adella will be on the throne one day instead of you. I don't care if you arrived two minutes earlier! You're all the same age!" She was constantly teasing her headstrong firstborn daughter in this way as the girls tussled over toys and baubles.
"She pits her triplets against one another already. At three years old!" Ursula told Ganeon. "She wants them to fight over the throne so that she has a pretext for claiming it. It's sickening."
"I don't think you need to watch her anymore," Ganeon replied flatly.
"At least I'm doing something! What are you doing for us?"
Ganeon sighed. "I'm wracking my brain for a solution."
"Leave the solutions to me, Ganeon. Work on your courage instead."
***
Ursula watched Marielle's belly swell through the course of her daily spying. Mere months after the twins' birth, a seventh child was growing inside her.
Her last.
The Queen suddenly took to drawing. Literally overnight, she was possessed by it. She drew and she drew, whistling and humming and serenading herself as she spent day after day at her table. Flotsam and Jetsam could never manage to get a good view of her labors. She would work until she drooped, then roll up her papers and lock them in drawer.
After a couple months of this--the same thing every single day--spying on her was too boring to bear. Ursula gave it up.
The birth of the seventh child was drawing near now. And on a strangely bright morning, Roch the clam delivered a handwritten message from Her Highness, asking Ursula to join her and Triton and Ganeon for dinner.
She passed the day in agony.
When the appointed hour came, Prince Ganeon escorted her into the royal dining room. The foursome ate in near silence. Sebastian peeked his head in twice, then clattered away. It was bizarre. Surreal.
Servants came to clear their dishes. "I'll have the papers now," Marielle said to one, smiling.
"Right away, Your Highness."
The Queen reached for Triton's hand and exhaled as he intertwined his fingers with hers. She smiled nervously at Ursula and Ganeon. "I've asked you here because I've been working on a special project. I want your thoughts on it."
"Very well."
"I've designed this for you."
A large roll of paper was unfurled before their puzzled faces. It showed a sketch of the palace, the temple, and the courtyard. Another building spanned the length of the courtyard and faced it. What it lacked in width at the entrance, it made up in sheer length. The detailing was extravagant.
"What is it?" Ursula asked.
"Your new home. You and Ganeon don't have to carry on furtively anymore. Once you are wed, you can--"
"You knew about this?" Ursula hissed at Ganeon.
"No!" he yelped.
"You don't like it." Marielle's face fell. "We can change anything you want. But the location is perfect, you must admit. Your union represents a meeting of the palace and the temple. So your home should be connected to both. It should span the distance between."
"We have a home," Ursula said icily. "What you mean to say is that you are banishing us from our home."
"Please don't say that. There's been a...a...development. And we are trying to make everyone happy."
Triton spoke at last. "The Nautili need a place to work. They asked Her Highness if they could be given refuge in the palace. And your personal quarters are the ideal space for their needs."
"Refuge?" Ursula said through clenched teeth.
"They have a place to work. They've worked in the temple for thousands of years. Order them to return," Ganeon said.
"They will not return under Ursula." Triton crossed his arms in front of his impressive chest.
"Why are they coming to you with their complaints instead of to me? Or His Highness? This is unheard of! Preposterous!" Ursula seethed in Marielle's direction.
"I believe it's because they felt I would listen to them. We've bonded so much over music, so over time--"
"Ha! I have to hand it to you, Marielle. Ruining two ancient traditions in one stroke. Clever thing."
Triton glowered. "You address her with respect or you get out of here."
Ursula turned to Ganeon. "How long have the Nautili been with their own tentacled kind in the temple? And how long has the High Priest or Priestess lived in the palace? How many thousands of years?"
"I don't know. Many millennia."
"It's not going to be undone with some sketches," Ursula snarled.
"That's correct," Triton slapped the table. "It was undone by your foolish pride! By your insensitivity to the Nautili. These sketches, these building plans, are the Queen's kind attempt to give you some dignity, and you are undeserving of the effort."
Marielle sobbed quietly. "My dear, why don't we revisit the matter after Ariel is born. Perhaps this is too much to take in right now," she managed through her tears.
The other three gaped at her.
"What? Oh!" Marielle's hand flew to her mouth. "I didn't mean to say her name! I'm sorry!" She wept anew. "I'm just so tired, and I know that's considered bad luck here, and--"
"Leave us," Triton commanded as he pulled his queen into his arms.
***
"We could just start over." Ganeon was pleading with Ursula in her drawing room. Marielle's screams could be heard faintly through the open doors. She was hours into labor.
"Just start over." Ursula repeated dully.
"Yes! You can't tell me you want to stay here anymore. Atlantica holds nothing but bad memories for us."
"So, just go back to the Uncivilized Waters. And tell all the Tentacled Folk to follow us there. And you think they will?" A shrill scream echoed down the hallway, overpowering Ursula's low tone.
"Yes I do. Because of your charm offensive. It's all been leading up to this! And perhaps it doesn't have to be the Uncivilized Waters. My sisters in Arctica would likely find a way to open the kingdom to the Tentacled. A fresh start!"
Ursula swiveled to the balcony. She stared at the disorderly coral below in silence. It was trying to crawl out of the courtyard's borders, away from both the palace and the temple. "Fine," she said at last.
"Really?!" Ganeon shouted, sweeping her into his arms. He bounded through the room, spinning Ursula until she was dizzy. He was smiling for the first time in months.
"Yes!" She faked a laugh. "I can't figure out what to do with Triton anyway. We may as well."
"Thank Poseidon! I can't wait to leave this place!" He kissed Ursula hungrily.
Out in the halls, the screaming stopped.
Ursula pulled away. "Let's announce it tomorrow at the naming ceremony. I'd like to steal some of their thunder."
"That seems fair enough!" Ganeon chuckled. There were tears of joy floating before his face.
"Leave me now, Ganeon." She pecked him on the lips. "I need my rest tonight."
"Yes, my love. Goodnight!"
She closed the double doors behind him. Turning around, she almost bumped into Flotsam and Jetsam, who were looking at her anxiously.
"No, my pets," she crooned. "We're not moving to icy waters. It's just like I told Siddikah. If one of us is leaving, it will be her."
The eels looked at each other, yellow eye to yellow eye, and grinned.