Part of Your World (Twisted Tales)(87)

The fact that Eric was concerned about this was a novelty; she had always thought he was just a happy-go-lucky, entitled prince who, yes, cared for his people—but in his own privileged way. She never thought that he actually valued his princehood, or keeping it.

“You may have a point,” she allowed.

“Thank you. Thus, ostensibly I am dedicating the opera to you as a promise to spend more time on our…ah…marriage, and to me being a good prince. We have moved the venue to the town square so everyone can come and we’re constructing a raised dais just for you. I’m having this chair made, sort of muse-of-the-arts-y….”

He unfurled a scroll of paper and showed her the plans: where the performers would stand, where the orchestra would sit, and where there was a beautiful velvet-canopied pavilion with an ornate chair that was basically a throne.

She would look like a real queen sitting there.

Not some dumb princess.

The royal purple fabric…the gilt chair…the way it was angled so both the audience and the performers could both see her. She would be queen in all but name.

All would be watching her as she brought down destruction on them, like a true Old God tyrant.

“I…don’t…trust you,” she said.

“I don’t expect you to. I don’t trust you, either. But once in a while we may need to actually work together for survival. And as I said, I am, if nothing else, genuinely regretful for the way I spoke to you.”

He’s a regular Prince Charming, Ursula snorted to herself. If nothing else, it was amusing to see him spend all this effort trying to get her to go to a performance she never had any intention of missing. If he had a trick or two up his sleeve, well, it was nothing compared to what she had planned.

Performing the opera outside, in the square, was better than she could have ever dreamed. All the people of the little seaside town would be there. A thousand victims to sacrifice, a thousand hearts bleeding together with the King of the Sea.

Thanks to Eric and his generous apology dedication of the performance, there was no way the spell could fail. The powers released by all that death would grant her true magical mastery over the Dry World and the World Under the Sea. She would be unstoppable. Atlantica would fall. All would bow to her or fall to her wrath.

Ursula realized she was absently stroking the little bronze octopus and stopped it immediately.





When the day of the opera came she wished she had better clothes; it seemed a shame to attend Eric’s opera in the rags of a maid. But she changed into what she had, slipped the trident into her hair, and looked for Scuttle.

“Right here, Ariel! Just a moment!” the old gull called. He was standing at the shoreline gazing into a very calm tide pool at his feet, adjusting his chest feathers and preening his wings. “All set!” he finally declared and glided haphazardly over to her. “Wanted to look my spiffiest for everyone’s big day.”

Ariel smiled warmly and stroked him on his head. There was a bit of slick black seaweed around his neck, arranged to look a little like a cravat.

“Got me a nooserton,” he said proudly. “Just like the fancy human birds.”

“You look wonderful.” She kissed him on the beak, then offered her arm. “Care for a ride? Just so you don’t get tired too early.”

“It would be my honor to escort you, my lady,” he said with a bow, then hopped lightly up.

Well, not that lightly. Ariel had to grind her teeth to stop from reacting. She had forgotten how heavy things were in the Dry World, even supposedly light things, like birds.

They probably made for a very odd sight, strolling from the beach into town: a robed and mostly hooded maid with a seagull balanced on her arm. But there was no one around to see. The houses, churches, markets, and shops were mostly abandoned; everyone had gone early to get a good place to sit or stand for the free show. Ariel walked between the empty buildings, regarding them with mixed feelings.

If they failed, there was a chance she would be dead—or at the very least, a polyp—and never again free to go where she wished, either land or sea.

There was also a chance, if they succeeded, that her father, once returned to full power, would never allow her to come onto land again. He could make it so that no one could become human. Of course, she could always search for another way. But last time that had led to Ursula, and…

Her thoughts spun. There were objects in the window of a shop that she couldn’t quite fathom: possibly candy, possibly gems and crystals. There were so many alien things about this world she still didn’t know. There were so many more things in the rest of the world, both above and below the sea, that were yet to be discovered….

“You okay, Ariel? You seem a little, I dunno, worried or spacey or something,” Scuttle said.

“I just…I was just thinking about past choices and future possibilities.”

“Huh. Deep stuff. Well, the world’s your oyster after today. I can’t wait to see Triton again! You think he’ll give me a medal or something? For helping? For starting this whole thing?”

“I’m sure he will,” she said with a smile. It wasn’t quite a lie. Despite her father’s distaste for all air breathers, she would make sure her friends were properly rewarded.

They caught up with a few stragglers: families gathering small children onto their shoulders, limping soldiers, farmers from holds farther out. Scuttle took off. Ariel hoped he would find and stay close to Jona—who was, somewhat ironically, keeping an eye on Eric and developments at the castle end of things. And to think she was originally supposed to protect the Queen of the Sea!