The Surface Breaks(5)
“What do you mean?” I ask. “Nia is betrothed to Marlin. Her future is secure.”
“And do you believe that Nia wants to be bonded with Marlin?”
“I—” (The palace kitchens. Last year. Nia sobbing, her skin blotchy – Father would not have been happy if he had seen her like that. Please, Grandmother, Nia had begged. Please don’t make me. I can’t. I’m not like that, do you understand me? I’m not— Grandmother silent. Then she saw me. Muirgen, she snapped. What are you doing? Stop eavesdropping.)
“Sophia,” I say now. “What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she says. Her eyes meet mine, blue on blue on blue again. I wish mine were another colour. Up there, the stories go, the women have eyes of brown and green and violet and hazel. Their skin is brown and black and pink and white. Up there, the women are allowed to be different.
“What do you think Mama would say if she was here today?” I ask and Sophia glances behind her nervously. We all do this, I’ve noticed; as if we are afraid our father will be there, waiting for us to make a mistake.
“I think she would kiss you and wish you a happy birthday,” she says. “And then she would tell you she loves you.”
But she didn’t love me enough to stay.
Sometimes I wonder if I should be angry with my mother for that, like Cosima is. But I’m not. I miss her. And I want to know the truth about what happened to her.
The court room is shimmering; gem stones embedded in the coral walls. Blood-red streamers hanging from the ceiling, woven from every sea-flower within the vicinity of the palace, swaying in the fluttering water. Enormous cockle-shells have been prised open and dug into a circle on the sand, mer-people nestled in their hearts, wishing me a happy birthday as I pass.
Midway up the back wall, a balcony has been carved out of the palest sandstone and studded with over-sized pearls. The Sea King is there, my father, hands bearing down on the balustrade, my sisters in a single-file line behind him. His hair is cropped close, as is customary for mer-men, a thin gold crown circling his head. The trident is resting against the balcony wall; he has no need of a weapon at an event like this, yet he keeps it close to him anyway. His jaw is working back and forward, a furious click of bone, snap, snap. My father hates this ball, and yet he continues to insist that it be thrown, the festivities more elaborate with each passing year. He shall prove to the mer-folk, once and for all, how little he cares about my mother’s desertion and we will believe him, if we know what’s good for us.
“Muirgen. Sophia.” My grandmother loops around us, a crown of battered metal plaited through her long, greying hair. “Where have you been? You know the Sea King does not like to be kept waiting.” She pushes us before her, swimming until we reach the Sea King. Sophia joins my sisters at the back of the balcony, Grandmother settling at her side. I approach my father – I must present myself to him before remaining at his side for this part of the festivities.
“Is there any particular reason that you are late?” my father asks as I hover before him. His left eye is twitching, never a good sign. “I do not appreciate this tardiness, Muirgen.”
“I’m sorry, Father,” I say. “I wanted to ensure that I looked my best before leaving my bedroom.”
“Well, let me see if the delay was worthwhile, then.” His gaze licks up from my tail to my crown. I keep my face very still. He does not like it when we flinch.
“You are pleasing to me, Muirgen,” he says finally. “Most pleasing indeed.” He tosses a compliment back at my grandmother. “You have done well this evening, Thalassa.”
“Thank you, Sea King,” my grandmother replies, relaxing. “But the praise should surely rest with you. For it is you who has created her. It is you who gave her life, is it not?”
“This is true,” he says. “Hopefully she will take after me in other respects too, for her own sake.”
He takes me by the shoulders then, turning me around to face the crowd. I blink in the bright light, wondering at the vast numbers of people, most of whom are unknown to me. And yet they all know my name, of course.
“Greetings, mer-men, mermaids, all of my loyal subjects. It is a pleasure to receive you at court today, on this, the celebration of my youngest daughter’s birthday.”
The mer-folk swim out of the cockle-shells, gazing up at us with envy and fascination. We, the chosen ones. “Today is a wonderful day. Not only do we celebrate the cleansing of our kingdom, the decontamination of the palace…” He gives the same speech every year, and yet his indignation never seems to dissipate. “But to add to our joy, Princess Muirgen turns fifteen today. An important age, as you all know. An age that brings extra privileges, yes, but also extra responsibilities. I have no doubt that Muirgen is up to the task of both. She is my most beloved child.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cosima scowling, then remembers her manners, her face smoothing into a blankness that I recognize too well. I shall pay for my father’s comments later. “And the most attractive,” the Sea King adds. “She resembles me, does she not?”
The mer-folk cheer, even though everyone knows that I look like my mother. I watch them clapping for my beauty, as if it was something I had earned.
“Sing,” they shout. “Sing, Princess!” The words bubbling up to meet us, demanding to be heard.