Part of Your World (Twisted Tales)(70)

“And while you are waving your shiny swords, the humans will be shooting at you with their guns,” Ariel said wearily. “That’s why I wanted to do this alone—and stealthily. To limit the loss of life.”

“Forget the army. Use the power of the sea,” a merman senator suggested. “Use your trident and teach the humans a lesson!”

“Yes,” Ariel said, leaning back on her throne. “I’ve actually thought of that. I could destroy the castle and everyone in it with one mighty wave. The advantage of killing Ursula this way is that my father and all of her prisoners would be transformed immediately upon her death and released directly into the sea.”

Flounder and Sebastian exchanged surprised—and shocked—looks. Had she really considered this?

Ariel turned her eyes to the glowing dome of the surface to avoid seeing their faces. Yes, she had thought about it.

If her goal was truly just to get her father back and wreak revenge on Ursula, it was probably the most direct and efficient route. A giant tsunami wiping out a kingdom’s castle and all within…Some would call it a natural disaster, but others would suspect the truth and tell stories. Maybe people would start respecting the sea again, properly. Maybe they would stop fishing it out and dumping their garbage into it.

And, from an artistic perspective, how utterly apocalyptic and perfect: destroying her enemy and possibly her lover at the same time. Very Old God. They’d be singing about her for centuries.

One side of her mouth tugged into a wry smile. The old Ariel wouldn’t have even had these thoughts; she would have dismissed them immediately as horrific and unthinkable.

Now she could think them. She just couldn’t do them.

“No, guys,” she said aloud. “I’m not actually killing everyone in the castle in a tidal wave of utter destruction.”

Sebastian and Flounder looked chagrined that she had read their minds—but also relieved.

“Your Majesty, I must attend the Planktonic Life Interior Committee meeting,” Klios the dolphin said apologetically, with a bow. “I will continue to ponder our problem of rescuing the king. But for now, other duties call.”

“Yes, go. We could all use a break anyway,” Ariel said, rubbing her head for the second time that week. “We’ll reconvene on the next tide to discuss further.”

As most of the council swam off, Sebastian approached her, sideways and slowly. “Well, then, while we are taking a break thinking about all this…maybe we can talk about something else? My next masterpiece, maybe? A celebration of the tides. A celebration of the sea. A celebration celebrating the return of your voice, starring…”

Ariel narrowed her eyes at him.

“…well, your voice?” He gave her a winning crabby grin.

“Queens. Do not. Sing. Sebastian.”

“But Ariel, now that you can sing again…”

“My father did not put on pantomimes or act in farces. My mother did not perform burlesque. My station does not allow for such gross frippery. No one would take me seriously again.”

“Your mother’s voice was terrible.”

“Sebastian!”

“Sorry, but it’s the truth. And you are not your father….”

“No, but would you suggest this if I were a prince? Somehow I think not.”

“But Ariel! Think of your people! They have lived without hearing your voice for so long! Don’t they deserve to hear your singing?”

“My singing is my singing,” she said, bending down to put her eyes on level with the little crab. “My voice is my voice. I gave it away myself and I got it back again myself. It is not for anyone else’s enjoyment or amusement. If I want to sing, I will sing. Right now I use my voice to give orders and run a kingdom. Someday, if our situation changes, perhaps I will consider your idea. Until that time, however, I ask that you not speak to me of it again.”

Sebastian clicked his claws together in the crab equivalent of fists and ground his mandibles, trying to keep from saying anything. Flounder put a steadying fin on his back.

“Let it go,” he whispered, pulling the little crab away.

As the two left together, Sebastian might have been heard to mutter something about her being exactly like her father….

Ariel gloomily looked over the piles of paperwork that were her “reward” after the meeting.

She sighed and tapped on her desk with a pen—a sharp-tipped whelk—and rested her chin on her hand.

It was no use. She couldn’t concentrate. All she could think about was her father…and losing her temper at Sebastian.

She would have to make it up to the little crab somehow. Maybe she would commission him to write and prepare a celebratory chorus for something. Maybe that would assuage his wounded ego.

She thought about her duet with Eric. It was almost uncanny how the boy she had fallen in love with once had managed to enrapture her again as his current older self. He was sadder, captive to a strange fate, but still possessed the heart of the old prince and his love for music. After all this, even if they were confined to their own worlds forever, she would love the chance to sing with him once last time.

…nope. Actually, she didn’t want that. She was going to be honest; that’s what queens did.

She wanted to kiss him.

She wanted to embrace him. She wanted to try spending time with him somewhere—his world or hers, it didn’t matter. One more duet was meaningless. She wanted to own his heart.