She had no idea where to begin looking for the prince. The land world was so flat, so different from the sea. The people in town would glance at her but quickly look away. She realized she must look odd, dripping water and wearing a wet shawl as a dress. Her hair was an awful mess as well; she had not expected the dry air to be so cruel to wet hair. The cobblestones of the streets in town were rough and hurt the delicate soles of her feet, each step sending sharp pangs of pain through her new legs. She fell to the ground once she reached the center of town and remained there, reaching down to touch her aching feet. A woman stopped in front of her, smiled, and dropped a few silver coins. She occasionally asked passersby about the prince and where he lived, and they would point to the castle or tell her some sort of gossip about him. The gossip she found most interesting was that of a mysterious mute girl the prince had found on the beach.

She found that sitting there on the ground earned her quite a lot of silver coins. She knew she could not attempt to visit the prince's castle in her current condition, and began asking passersby where she might find food and a place to get clean. One recommended she try the inn not far from where she sat, and she decided to stumble her way there.

At the inn she had enough coin for a meal and a bath, with enough left over for a new dress and shoes (at the innkeeper's recommendation). She found land food to be quite strange and very dry. The bath was her favorite part; being in water felt like home, and eased the aching pain in her feet.

She dressed in her simple new dress and combed out her hair. Her reflection in the large mirror pleased her; long dark hair, beautiful face, and lovely figure. It was a great contrast to her true appearance, and she almost wished she could simply stay this way.

After paying what was owed and thanking the innkeeper, Ursula began the walk to the castle. She doubted that she would be able to get inside, but she at least wanted to stay nearby so that she could watch over him. This way, if the siren tried to lure him out to the sea she would at least try to stop her. She chose a spot with a clear view of the castle gates and sat down in the grass.


The siren had been furious when she realized the sea witch had taken away her voice. Taking the prince to the sea would have been an easy task with her voice like honey and music. She still had her unmatched beauty though, and she was determined to drown the prince and uphold her siren's honor.

As luck would have it, the prince was visiting the rocky shore of the beach when the siren washed ashore. He took pity on her, since he had also been the lone survivor of a shipwreck (which he believed had been her fate), and brought her back to his castle to be nursed back to health.

The siren soon had him wrapped around her finger; the shipwreck assumption had worked entirely in her favor, and she was doted on excessively. She decided to take her time, enjoying all of the wealth and splendor of the land people. She knew, though, that her time was limited. She had only three days to drown the prince, and one had already been spent. She wished for more time, not simply because she lacked a clear plan of how her goal would be achieved, but also because the splendor of the castle and the land people fascinated her far more than she had expected. As she lay down to sleep for the night she put herself to sleep with thoughts of a royal ball, dancing with the handsome land prince, her own glittering ball gown that shone like her emerald scales swirling around her as she danced. She drifted off to sleep with a sigh, the magnificent party carrying over into her dreams.


Ursula gazed up at the castle from where she sat in the grass. She found that years of living in a dark cave made it easy for her to see well in the dark on land. The castle was magnificent, and even the gates surrounding it were wonderful to behold. The grounds were filled with lush greenery and plants that Ursula had never before seen. A rush of sadness fell over her when her thoughts unintentionally returned to the siren. She wondered what beauty was hidden from her eyes inside the castle, she wondered what splendor the siren had already seen. What she felt, she realized, was a twinge of jealousy; that she was outside and alone, and the siren was within. She absentmindedly began to sing; it was a sad, old song she had learned long ago. But it sounded different now, even to her own ears. The siren's voice had changed the sad song of the lonely cephalopod to one of sweet mournfulness and beauty. The sweet song was carried on the wind, almost tangibly swirling around her and drifting toward the castle. Even as she sang, she thought she caught a glimpse of a dark figure on a balcony, and wondered if it could be the prince listening to her song.