King Triton watched Ariel's return in silence, his heart weighed down by anger and regret; anger that Ariel could be so flippant regarding the memory of her mother, and regret that he had acted with such rashness. His relationship with his youngest daughter had been fragile anyway, and with yesterday's actions he may well have completely shattered it; but to spend her time willingly amongst human junk! How could he excuse such deliberate disobedience?

It hadn't been junk though, not to Ariel. She had been infatuated with every item in a way that her father still failed to understand. The collection had provided her with such joy, such a sense of purpose, and recently Eric had taught her so much. She couldn't forgive him—her father—for taking that away from her.

She swam with her head down, ignoring Arista when she asked what was wrong, ignoring Adella when she asked where she'd been, until she reached her bed, whereupon she promptly hid herself under the covers. She prayed that they would take the hint and leave her alone. Disgruntled was she then when Attina's voice broke through the idle chatter of her sisters.

'Father wishes to speak with you.'

Dread settled in Ariel's stomach. What else was there for him to say? He'd made his views perfectly clear already. "Not now" she muttered.

'Now,' stated Attina firmly, pulling back the covers, 'he's waiting in the throne room.'

She would not escape this, Ariel perceived, her body heavy as she raised herself once again. It was in a puppet-like sort of daze that she carried herself through the palace. Let him chastise me, she thought, it's hardly of consequence now. What more could he possibly do?

The throne room was by far the largest in the palace, circular and lofty, serving to elevate both the King's voice and presence. He sat, as usual, in the centre, upon a magnificent eruption of solidified gold. Whichever entrance you took, of which there were four, you would always find yourself below the King.

Ariel looked up at him now, searching for remorse in his features and finding none.

Such feelings existed though, deep within his soul. He would not allow them to surface, however, for his daughter must understand the seriousness of what she had done, and how could she if she believed him repentant? She must, and would, respect his authority.

'Where have you been?' he asked as she approached. In truth he had been on the brink of heading out in search of her, given that her absence from the palace had extended to over four turns of the tide.

'You already know,' replied Ariel, more melancholy than her father could remember seeing her, 'you were there.'

She had remained amongst the rubble then; Triton supposed he should be grateful that she hadn't immediately set about replacing her heinous collection.

'And what were you doing there?'

Ariel remained silent.

'Young lady, your actions are inexcusable,' proceeded the King, 'if I had known how you spent your free time I would never have been so lenient in excusing your absence. After what happened to your mother—'

'That's got nothing to do with it!' Ariel retorted.

The King's face darkened, but Ariel remained undeterred, so desirous was she to make him understand.

'How many humans was that? A dozen? Not all humans can be like that, I knowthey can't, and it's not as though I'm spending my time with them—'

'Enough!' the King thundered.

'But if you would just listen!'

'Not another word!' Ariel was silenced, the reverberations of her father's booming voice seeming to shake the very room. 'This fascination ends now!' he continued, 'I forbid you to spend another day beyond Atlantica from this moment on! Is that clear? You will commit to your duties as your sisters do.'

Ariel fought silently against the lump in her throat as her father condemned her. This was not a warning, she realised, but a command. No more adventures. No more treasures. No more Eric.

It was too much. With a brokenhearted sob she turned and fled. Why her fin—working, it seemed, without cognitive input—took her to the music room she couldn't hope to know, but it was quiet, hidden away; nobody would think to look here for sometime yet. Ariel removed to the far corner, at which point her strength seemed to desert her. She crumpled to the floor, her body shaking and her breaths ragged with misery, alone with no one to comfort her. Did her father even realise the pain he had inflicted?

Previously, the idea of never again being able to explore the shipwrecks caused her the most anguish. Now, given all that he had done for her, it was the thought of abandoning Eric that saddened her more than anything. The thought of him waiting for her, worrying about her, wondering what he had done wrong; these were the images that plagued Ariel's mind. She simply had to see him again, if only to offer an explanation as to why it would be the last.

There had been a storm during the day. This Eric knew, not because he had paid any particular attention to the weather at the surface, but because the sails and shirt that would normally have kept him warm were soaked through, the ferocious waves having reached the shelf upon which they were stored. The sand was still damp and a chill lingered, pricking Eric's skin with goosebumps as the night drew in. A fire was, as always, a last resort, and one which Nastasya insisted upon when she arrived that evening to find her boy shivering.

The driftwood they found was stored high above the sand, secured within netting and accessed via a pulley system.

'I shan't have you catch your death up here,' Nastasya said, watching as Eric untied the rope—they had chipped a small c-shaped tunnel in the rock through which to loop it—and eased the bag downwards.

The fire was promptly constructed, and lit using flint, and Eric permitted himself a small smile at his mother's concern. After today, after what Ariel's father had done, he couldn't help but be grateful that she cared so much for him, though it made him all the less willing to jeopardise their relationship by dredging up the past.

'Don't you wish you could've had a child who was... well... normal?' he asked, the flames serving already to warm him, so too to dry the shirt that he had laid beside it.

Nastasya seemed to ponder this question, her expression melancholy. 'Not if it meant giving you up,' she replied at length, cupping his cheek. 'I wish you could live a less divided life, yes, but for your sake not mine; whether mer or human, it makes no difference, I love you all the same Eric.'

Eric ducked his head, his eyes stinging suddenly. Never in his life had he felt so torn and never had it been so difficult to look his mother in the eye, to see her secrecy masked so completely by maternal adoration.

She left that night feeling that things were beginning to look up, that Eric seemed more his usual self, and allowed herself to hope that whatever had distracted him was passed now.

Eric, thoughts racing through his head at dizzying speed, could only berate himself that yet another opportunity to discuss that which consumed his every waking moment had passed him by on account of his own cowardice. The longer he left it, the more he strived to convince himself that it was irrelevant, that what his mother had done in the past was for her to know rather than him. None of my business, he thought. What harm would there be in things staying as they were, after all? Then again, if this Nikolaj were in some way connected to him, didn't he have a right to know? He couldn't shake the thought that this man was his father, as irrational as it sounded; surely his mother could either confirm or deny that at least?

Tenebrosity had fallen over the palace, the golden hues emitted during the day muted now that night had fallen, so too the consistent chatter of citizens.

Ariel sat at the window of the music room, watching as the kingdom of Atlantica retired for the evening, her eyes red from crying and her heart aching dully, exhausted by emotion. What felt like an eternity to the Princess had in fact only been an hour or two.

'Are you coming to bed?'

Ariel didn't look up. She recognised those softly spoken words so full of regret, and she wasn't in the mood for Attina to say I told you so. Her sister failed to understand this, however, and swam to Ariel's side, her touch pitying.

'I told you to stop,' she said remorsefully, 'this would never have happened if you'd listened to me Ariel.' Attina sighed, wary that she wasn't helping in the slightest. 'That doesn't mean I agree with father's actions,' she added, sliding her arm around Ariel's shoulders. 'It was too much.'

Ariel found herself caught suddenly between a desire to push Attina away and a contrary desire to accept the comfort that her eldest sister seemed keen to offer. It was so rare for her and Attina to agree on anything that moments of closeness like this had become increasingly fleeting. Sorrow overcame her once more, and she found herself leaning into her sisters embrace, finding comfort in her presence like she used to when they were younger—after their mother died.

Attina, too, experienced conflicting emotions in that moment, since her father had filled her in on the particulars of Ariel's absence in fact, which had troubled her profusely.

She had always agreed with her father, trusting his wisdom unquestioningly. He was the King after all, and his word was law.

When Ariel had confided in her a curiosity in humans she had been aghast, for it went against almost everything their father stood for, a direct dismissal of his wishes; but she hadn't told him about it in the hope that Ariel would eventually see sense without his needing to know, and because she loved her little sister too much to see her so severely punished. He had found out though, albeit without her input, as his furiousness she could understand to an extent—she knew his stance on humans, and after what had befallen their mother it was no wonder he felt that way. To destroy the objects that Ariel had secretly collected was, in his mind, to disparage her curiosity.

'She can have no reason to leave now,' he had told her, 'ruins can have no influence on her mind.'

Her learning, then, was what angered him. He worried that all this time spent amongst human objects was teaching her to see the humanity in... well, in humanity. This much was perhaps true, but it revealed her fathers blindness. He didn't know Ariel at all. It wouldn't discourage her; it would break her for a little while, but after that she would only be determined to rebuild, to try again. His actions would serve only to pit her further against him.

In truth, for the first time Attina found herself questioning whether her father was right, if he truly knew the best course of action, not only in this matter, but in all; and it scared her, this new lack of certainty. So too did she fear for her youngest sisters wellbeing. They had all had to adjust after their mother's death, and each and found comfort in something or other, something to occupy their time and their minds. She couldn't understand Ariel's obsession, but she couldappreciate that she had found a coping mechanism, an unconventional one granted, but one nonetheless; and now that father had stripped her of it what did Ariel have to help her fill the time?

Ariel was not privy to these inner musings of her sister, only that she couldn't remember Attina ever disagreeing with father on anything. She felt too drained to discuss this further though, and presently allowed herself to be lead through the darkened halls to her bed.

Her sisters—those who were not already asleep—remained silent, even Attina did not offer a word as she guided a brush through Ariel's hair. This Ariel was grateful for, for it allowed her time and peace to think on what her father had said, her spirit recovering at length from the initial blow of having all she held dear taken from her so suddenly.

'I forbid you to spend another day beyond Atlantica.'

'Try to get some sleep, Ariel.' Attina spoke softly, her words barely registering with Ariel as the latter slipped into bed.

'Another... day.'

Ariel lay still, staring into the darkness for a length of time she couldn't accurately distinguish, until the silence was interrupted by her eldest sisters snoring. She chanced sitting up, surveying each of her sisters in turn. Not a single movement. Ariel rose in swift silence, stuffing her pillows beneath the covers in her place; at a glance, in the darkness, it would appear that nothing had changed.

She would obey her father, not another day, but he would not confine her always. She would see Eric again, and if this was what it took to achieve that—sneaking by aid of the window in the dead of night—then that is what she would do.

Behind her, laying motionless, Aquata watched her retreating form with an aching heart.