Distractedly, I stab the food with the two-legged utensil for consummation, and stuff a bite of their version of sea weed into my mouth.
And almost choke. I've never tasted anything so... not wet before in my life.
Brendan awkwardly pats my back with one hand before using his other to raise my own arm above my head.
Somehow, I force the dryness down my throat. I fight the urge not to gag it back up.
"Here." Brendan holds a chalice filled with water at me.
I stare down at it. Why do the two-legged capture water?
"We don't poison our drinks either," Brendan assures.
Drinks? I'm supposed to put this in my mouth, too? I suppose it is something they would have to do up hear, without the water always flowing into them.
As I stare down at this strange turn of events, I suddenly feel a deep yearning in my throat to feel water there again. It's a need, apparently, that we merfolk take for granted.
Bringing the cup to my lips, I take a deep drink.
And go back to coughing. My body is apparently not as able to swallow liquids as it was before this curse. What I had anticipated to be refreshing instead leaves a burning sensation all the way to my lungs. And the taste... How do two-leggeds bear to drink unsalted water?
Again, Brendan is patting my back and raising my arm. "Wow, is this your first time eating a meal ever?"
"Brendan," the manservant warns.
I put the utensil down. I've lost all appetite I had, with all the changes ahead of me just to provide nutrients to my strange, new body. I don't have any energy left in me to do anything else.
Lifting my eyes to meet the manservant's, I hope he understands that I'm saying I appreciate his hospitality, but must now retire.
Then I push my chair back and hurry up to the room that was assigned to me.
Approaching the bed, I wonder what it will be like not having to secure myself to sleep without worrying about the water carrying me from my bed.
Probably not as comfortable as home.