Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay again. There were a number of fragments to the last chapter that got big enough to become a whole new chapter that I wasn't sure whether or not to add. This chapter took so long because I was torn over whether or not I should make them into their own chapter or delete them. In the end I decided to add them. I hope you like what I made.

Disclaimer: I don't own or make money off of any of this.


Needless to say, her master was furious to learn what had happened. Seras Victoria was his ward, and for her to carelessly throw herself into danger...!

"I thought you had better sense than that," he said coldly; though he did not scold her too much because she had caught a minor cold from the lake.

The servants did not get off so easy. He had them stand before like a wall, and ripped into them so viciously that a few cried. "Do you think I brought my ward out here for my own enjoyment? No! I desire nothing more than to keep her beside me in my flat in London, but I agreed to move her out here to improve her health and well-being. How can her health improve if you let her walk into danger?"

"But ser," one of the younger ones said, "She's always gettin' away, and it's not as if we can..."

"SILENCE!" he thundered, "If you cannot ensure my ward's safety, then I will find someone who can. You are all dismissed. Now get out of my sight!"

Seras could hear him scolding them from upstairs, as she sat quietly alone by the fireplace.

Mr. Bernadotte got it worst of all. The servants hinted as much in their gossip, but Seras hadn't heard him get scolded like the other servants. She didn't hear any more sounds from downstairs after her master demanded that the others leave so he could have a private word with Captain Bernadotte. She thought it sounded bad when she heard her master say after it was over, "I'm glad we understand each other," but she couldn't imagine anything worse than being yelled at like the poor maids. Nor did Captain Bernadotte lose his job since she saw him later on the grounds. However, whatever her master said to him must have cut him to the bone, by the way the servants talked, and he no longer seemed as cheerful. When Seras smiled and waved at him from a distance, he didn't even smile or wave back. He just looked at her sullenly, and walked away.

When she went out to the stables later, he treated her with cool professionalism. When she wrote in her journal asking him what was wrong, he sighed.

"Look, you're the boss's ward, and the boss is a noble; that makes you about as good as a lady," he said. "And I'm just the hired help. You're above my station, and we shouldn't be acting so friendly with each other."

His words cut like a knife. Tears sprung out of her eyes like blood from a wound, and she walked away. It happened again. Humans rejected and rebuked her all the time. Mr. Bernadotte was the only one she could rely on to be a friendly face and willing company. Yet now he was acting like a stranger, pushing her away and telling her "her place" (which always seemed a place of loneliness and boredom, it seemed to Seras) like everyone else.

Yet, she suspected it wasn't his words. She found it hard to believe that her master and the servants got mad at them for essentially being too friendly with each other, and now suddenly he was telling her she should stay away.

"Besides," he said, looking at something distant above her head, "I'm not really to be around you anymore."

Seras felt deeply saddened by the arrangement. The truth was she liked the captain's company; he was friendly, cheerful, and out-going. He often teased her, which vexed her greatly, but he also talked to her like and equal... like a friend. He spoke to her so casually yet familiarly that she almost felt like she could answer, but he also always seemed to know what she wanted to say, so she didn't have to. Captain Bernadotte said that her face was so expressive that she didn't need a voice, because he understood her just fine.

Seras furrowed her brows.

He laughed. "Oh, you doubt me, ma cher? Then how come I can see you frowning clear as day?"

Seras flushed and looked away.

"Aha! And now you are blushing! That means you are embarrassed."

She turned around and snapped at him, although no words came out.

He laughed. "I know, I know. Terrible."

He vexed her greatly, but he had also been good company, and now she was sad that he could not speak to her anymore. Now, whenever he saw her, he looked at her with a dour expression, then turned away.

The situation was not improved by her master arranging a female chaperon to accompany her at all times when she was out on the grounds, and they were allowed to use force to keep Seras inside when necessary. (They were not allowed to strike her, of course, but they could physically grab her arm or lock the doors.) He also ordered for Seras to be brought back to live with him to the London flat, at least part of the time.

"If she's well enough to go swimming in the lake," he said, "She's well to join me in London."

Seras could have groaned. NO! She hated the London flat! Why was her master making her go back there? Didn't he care what she wanted at all? Just because he wanted to suffer London's high society to pursue some church girl who didn't even want him, didn't mean Seras wanted to! She didn't want to suffer through London's heat and smog and London elite to help him woo a girl she didn't even want him to have!

Now that Seras was fully recovered and back in the London flat, they lived as proper London elite. Seras and her master woke anywhere between nine and ten, enjoyed a modest breakfast. Despite herself, Seras enjoyed these. It was something that her master and she got to enjoy together, since socialites did not tend to call on each other during breakfast; before all the noise, the bustle and hassle occurred during events. Her master often red his newspaper at one end of the table, while Seras enjoyed a hearty breakfast of buttered toast with jam. (No matter what went wrong in her life, she always enjoyed warm toast with melted butter and sugary-sweet jams; it always warmed her to the soul, and lifted her spirits.)

Her master surprised her one morning by saying, "Now that you have fully recovered, perhaps you should take up riding here in the city."

Seras' heart fluttered, until she saw what riding actually entailed here in London. Scores of young ladies woke early every morning to have a ride around Hyde Park, and it was more awful than anything Seras could imagine. London was still so huge, yet so crowded, so closed-in by high buildings, and so covered in hard cobblestone. The only places with any green were large "parks" like Hyde Park and Kensington Park, which would be perfect to ride a horse through. However, there were so many young ladies taking their morning ride each day that they could not go anywhere they wished unless they wanted to trample all the grass, so they stayed to one dirt path.

The young ladies also could not tack their own horses, nor ride any direction they wished, nor even ride faster than a brisk walk, nor even ride without some male human (either a hired groom or a gentleman from their house) holding the reigns for them, as the ladies were thought so delicate. They simply showed up in their best riding attire and sat passively atop their horses, which were led in a tacit walk by various men; and there were so many scores upon scores of women upon horses escorted by so many gentlemen that there was no room to ride without having your skirts

"Is it not a perfect day for a ride, Lady Mary?"

"I must say. It is quite a beautiful view."

What view?! Seras thought, you're crowded by so many people I'd be surprised if you could see anything but other women's riding attire and horses!

When Seras saw the church girl riding atop her golden steed, with her smart riding attire and her riding crop and her stupid sideways hat, Seras realized what this was really about. When her master led her horse over to the church girl, her insides curled like snakes. Seras would have none of it. She threw her riding crop upon the ground, and marched straight back to the flat, ignoring all protests to come back.

Of course she didn't get far. There were too many girls on horses in the way, and her master easily caught up with her, caught her horse's reign, and demanded to know what was going on.

Her face burned and her gut clenched the whole way, but she would not answer. She would not look at him or betray one hint of her emotions, apart from her vexation, until the walk in the park was over and they were back in their city flat.

She expected her master to be angry, but when he saw her facial expression and read her journal entry explaining her feelings, he laughed and laughed.

"All right, my little foundling, we shall have none of it," he said, and kissed her nose.

That small, simple, little kiss lighted many deep caverns inside herself that she had thought dead and cold and dark, and the realization that they were not empty flooded them with every tear she never shed.

'Why?' she thought, 'Why do you give me such false hope? Every time you show me these little hints of affection I love you all over again, and it just hurts that much more when I see that you don't.'

Something still troubled her, and she did not know what. She ruminated on it all day, and lay awake in bed long into the night trying to puzzle out what it was. And then it hit her.

She could never predict her master's moods. Often, when she thought he would find something amusing he would surprise and upset her by being angry, and when she thought he would be angry (as she had fully expected with that stunt with the horses in Hyde park) he surprised her by finding it amusing. She was glad that he didn't yell at her now, because she wasn't sure if she could take it, but as she lay in bed the following evening her relief did not feel... well... relaxing. It was the kind of relief she felt right after she'd narrowly avoided a particularly painful scrape (like falling off a horse and hitting the soft grassy ground instead of the cobblestone fence), and it made her tremble.

She had never noticed it before, but it was not the most pleasant feeling. Why did she always have to guess how her master was feeling?

They went to many social events and functions, where the Count's courtship of the cursed church girl flourished, but by then Seras hated them so much she stopped pretending to even care. At teas and parties she sat with her arms folded and her legs crossed, pouting and sulking. Dr. Abraham Van Helsing often came to talk to her though, and he seemed untroubled by her sour expressions. His good opinion seemed to save her the social consequences.

During balls she hovered at the food table, and shoo'd away couples that tried to take the last of whatever food she liked. The lord of some party formally complained to the Count about Seras hitting a guest's hand with her fan when he tried to take one of ten of the last tarts. The Count himself laughed himself a fit to die, kept a straight face long enough to assure the lord that he would send a dozen such tarts to replace the ones she had eaten, and then walked away laughing.

During concerts and operas she fell asleep outright, since there was nothing to do but sit in the dark watching people play musical instruments for hours. And these were the events humans seemed to like best. Countless people of consequence got dressed up in their best evening clothes and jewels and hair up-dos, and they often acted excited to see each other and the concerts, yet for how much effort they put into their looks they all just sat in the dark watching the people on the stage playing musical instruments for hours. What was the point?! Merfolk had concerts too, but they included shows and singing and elaborate stage decorations to accompany the musicians. Merpeople didn't come from all over the sea to just float there and watch Baron Harkonnen direct the musicians.

She missed Harkonnen, thinking about it. She also missed the way people under the sea held shows over the way humans did, which was a first for her. Seras always used to think the way they did things on land was better than the way they did things under the sea, even though she did not understand them. Once, she would have happily worn heavy clothes or learned ridiculous table manners as long as it meant she got to be above the sea. Now she found herself missing the sea to avoid enduring how they did things on land.

This alone made her sour, and Seras sulked through every concert and opera (which was the most odious way of singing she could imagine, and always in a language she could not understand) before she fell asleep out of sheer boredom. Since they had their own private boxes with curtains, she could get away with it.

During plays she could sometimes stay awake. She didn't understand why humans liked plays so much though, since it seemed obvious the people on stage were reciting words written on some script in a very false fashion, and the room or field they were in was not a room but a stage with furniture on it... but audiences seemed to like it just the same. When she wasn't asleep she leaned back, bored out of her mind, amusing herself by looking at the audience's reactions to the actors rather than the actor's performance. At least their reactions were genuine.

There was only one play she wished she could have slept through since it made her so angry.

It was called "The Importance of Being Earnest," written by some Oscar Wilde or some such. The Count and she went to see it in their own private box with the church girl, her father and her grandfather, who were starting to accept her master being around their child, but only under strictly chaperoned visits where he had to endure the scorn of her family; perhaps to test his loyalty.

Most of London's elite absolutely loved this play and prattled on and on about how funny it was, yet the whole thing made Seras angry from start to finish. She thought all the characters stuffy, uptight, self-important, stupid, and spouting "wisdom" that was both hypocritical and amoral.

London's elite loved it because it gently ribbed them for their own silly values and hypocrisies, but Seras felt it was too spot-on, and depicted all of their worst values far too seriously*, and she couldn't stand any of them.

She also couldn't stand the premise. Jack Worthing lived in the country and came to the city under a new name, and wished to win the heart of a lady. Only, she loved him for his new name instead of who he was, and her mother prevented him from being with him for daring not to have any parents; a misfortune Seras could personally relate to.

"To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune. To lose both looks like carelessness."

It made Seras sick. If anyone in that laughing audience lost parents as she had, they would not have laughed so hard! And she had tried to save them, thank you very much. She had the shark bites to prove it. She hadn't lost them out of carelessness!

She also hated how Jack Worthing had a young ward of maritable age in the country but came to the city to produce another young woman. Seras would have sympathized with poor Cecile, as she thought the story was going to be about how she longed for her master who longed for another, but no—Cecile had no interest in Jack any more than Jack had interest in her, and Seras thought, "No! That's not how it works! Whoever wrote this obviously has not been a young ward to a lord such as my master, for they would not write this so glibly!"

Most of all, she hated how these two men, Jack and Algernon, went to such lengths to win two girls, Gwendoline and Cecile, who did not care for them at all except their false names. What's more, the girls were not particularly smart, or nice, or devoted, or loving—in fact, Cecile was just crazy. Yet the men went to great lengths to prove their love and win their hearts, including changing their own names, and Seras thought about what lengths her master went for his church girl and she felt dejected, because no one ever went to such lengths for her, although she would have asked them to do it in the first place.

Perhaps the knife that twisted the next time her master and the church girl saw each other at a party. He had come up behind her, and murmured in her ear, "You have no reason to be jealous of my ward, for she is my Cecile, and you are my Gwendoline."

Seras actually vomited later that night, she was so nauseated and disgusted with all she had to endure.

The one saving grace in all this was the ballets. Seras loved the ballet. She was enchanted by them. So many beautiful young women, no older than her, dancing so beautifully in romantic lighting. Young girls dressed in flowing silks and satins, with skirts of tulle and tarlan tutus, which flowed around their legs like ribbons as they danced. Soft pink and purple lamps lit the stage like fairy lanterns, and the girls seemed to float as they danced. They moved with an air of weightlessness as they moved daintily on the tips of their toes, and they spun and twirled and leapt with all the grace and weightlessness of mermaids, only here on land. They seemed to move like air spirits.

Not since she lived under the sea had she seen such grace and elegance. Nowhere on land had she seen humans who moved with such poise.

She was enchanted by every performance. While operas and orchestras seemed to last hours, ballets seemed to last only minutes until they were over. The girls made the dance look so easy, Seras often tried to imitate them after it was over. She was surprised and vexed to find that when she tried to stand on the tips of her toes, it hurt worse than any pain she'd felt since she broke her leg, and fell outright. How did they make it look so easy?!

"Seras, you mustn't do that!" Walter exclaimed when he found her trying to dance like a ballerina. "It's dangerous to try to dance like a ballerina. You could seriously injure yourself. Worse, if done improperly you could cripple yourself for life."

"But they never hurt themselves," Seras wrote in her journal.

"Seras, you must understand that ballerinas train for an entire lifetime before their first performance. To dance as well as them, you would have had to begin training as a very young girl, perhaps just as you were learning to walk as an infant. You would have had to practice for hours each day, rigorously applying and repeating day after day for your entire childhood and adolescence to reach the level of mastery you see on stage. You cannot just pick it up one day as a grown-up girl and expect to get it right away."

Seras sulked. Great, just another thing she loved about the human world that she could not do! Why was it that everything she seemed to love about the human world was always out of reach?

By the time they attended some party in some three-story town house in an affluent part of London, Seras had had enough. Though she was dressed in a pretty light-blue satin dress with a flowing skirt, and a large ribbon tied to her back and another ribbon done in her hair, she was thoroughly dejected. What was the point of dressing prettily if there was nothing to do and no one to spend time with? While the house had dancing in the first floor, open doors and windows that led out into a garden, and a garden that led out into the view of clean, beautiful streets and shops, there was nowhere Seras wanted to be, and no one she wanted to spend time with. Even Dr. Abraham Van Helsing was odious to her. She was both thankful that he was too busy talking to someone else to notice her, and rather anxious lest he decide to come talk to her and ruin her peaceful solitude.

The sun was near to setting over the garden hedges when she realized she could not stand this party or anyone in it. She looked wistfully out into the town and the shops. There, she could walk quietly by herself and not have anyone come talk to her or bore her with their odious chatter. Seras decided to leave—anywhere was better than here. Since there were so many people, and no one paid her any mind, and the garden opened to the street, she figured no one would notice if she slipped out, or care that she was missing.

The street was as quiet and charmingly scenic as she hoped. This was the wealthy side of town, so there were not many people out and about. What few there were minded their own business and not Seras. She could enjoy the displays in the pretty little shops and the scenic view of the sun hovering over the cobblestone street without being bothered by anyone. She wandered the streets listlessly… until she came across a queer little shop. At first she could not tell what drew her to it. It was small and simple, with beautiful and elegant jewelry of pearls and elegantly polished sea shells. Then she realized that the song of the waves she thought she heard from the sea came from within the shop, which she recognized as a siren's song.

She looked around. The two or three other humans wandering the street didn't seem to hear it.

She looked back at the door, held her breath, and went in. It was small but beautiful inside. From one of those scratchy music devices, she could hear a woman's singing. To the untrained ear, it might sound like a woman singing opera, but Seras recognized it as a siren's song. When did a siren ever have time or opportunity to play music for humans?

But then… Seras thought as she looked around the little shop, when did a mermaid ever have time or opportunity to walk among humans on land?

The shop was beautiful, but antiquated. She noticed that the shop sold mostly books; old, thick, important-looking books in leather binding, on every shelf on every wall. There were so many they sat in huge piles, on stools and on the floor. The shop also little toy ships in bottles placed atop many piles, and even some jewelry at the front; seashells, pearls, mother-of-pearl, and other beauties and treasures of the deep on display. Rather than burning whale oil lamps, small wax candles filled the room. The lighting was soft and romantic; luxurious yet somehow melancholic.

Seras had not felt this way since she had been in the sea, and there was something in here that invoked a feeling of the sea.

She then noticed a young woman sitting in a large leather armchair behind a large wooden counter. The young woman was so small and slight that she almost looked like a little girl. She had the palest skin (almost fish-pale), silvery-blonde hair, and large eyes as blue as the sea. There was something soothing and ancient about her presence, although she looked very young on the surface. She sat as still as a rock on the shore, and her breathing was as slowly and rhythmic as the waves.

'She's just like me,' Seras thought.

The shopkeeper spoke, and her voice was ancient and lovely. "It has been a long time since another child of the sea graced my little shop," she murmured.

Seras did not know what to say to that, even if she could speak.

"But you have not been among the children of the land for a particularly long time, have you, my dear?"

Seras did not think that nearly a year was a short amount of time, but then she was often told that she was very young. Mermaids lived a few centuries compared to humans, who barely lived to a century if they were lucky. Seras had only been 16 when she left the sea. Since there was something so ancient and ageless and timeless about this girl, perhaps she was older than she appeared…

The faintest of smiles graced the shopkeeper's lips. "You are very observant, daughter of Triton."

Seras was affronted. 'I'm no daughter of Triton!' she thought. He had been sure to grind her nose in that many a time!

The shopkeeper smiled. "All children of the sea trace their lineage back to my father..." she leaned back in her large chair. "The neirids are born from the sea god's fidelity to his wife. The merfolk are all descended, one way or another, from his son who wields the trident, who calls himself the Sea King. Even this land's horses come from the sea god's many infidelities, born from the foam that crashes on the waves…"

Seras was then struck as to why she loved horses so much. Of all creatures on land that she could have adored, she realized, it was those from the sea god…

"However," the shopkeeper continued, "my father existed long before the master of the sea conquered his realm and reigned as a god… and I am one of his eldest, from long before men learned words to speak his name."

Seras gasped. If her father was the ocean itself rather than merely the god who ruled it, and she was one of the first, from long before the sea god took his reign, then that meant… she was…!

"Yes," the little sea goddess said. "I am almost as old as the sea; as old as the moon, although they are closely entwined. And I will continue to be for as long as my father lives; for forever and for forever."

Seras felt overwhelmed. She could not even imagine… could not even comprehend something so… endless… fathomless…

"The sea has not been particularly kind to you, though, has it, my dear?" the sea goddess murmured, not unsympathetically. "I cannot say that I fault you for wishing to seek brighter tides on land. There are things on land that even I seek as well. For instance…" she gestured to the books with her hand. "Such passages could never endure under my father's slippery touch; and I do enjoy the change of scenery required to read them, even for a short time.

"However…" she turned her head and gazed out the window, where Seras could see the orange glow of the sun descending below the buildings. "I could never bear to part from my family for very long… This is as far away as I ever intend to live from my home, on this dark little island, and I will only be here for a short while. When I tire, I will return to my father who gave me life, and to my mother and sisters all... although I am one of the few of my sisters who remain…" She sighed. "Eternity is a very tiring existence, I must own. And a great many things can happen in that time, yes... a great many."

She looked so profoundly sad and weary and lonely at that moment, Seras felt profound sympathy for her, since she was the last of her family as well.

The sea goddess then rose. She did so slowly and carefully, although the little mermaid still flinched.

"But you wished to part from the sea forever, and have chosen to cut yourself off from all that is familiar, and all that might aid you." She walked closer to the little mermaid, "You exchanged your world for a strange realm; your friends for strangers…" she stopped before Seras, "and your voice for legs."

The sea goddess looked directly into her eyes; bottomless eyes as blue and deep and fathomless as the sea itself, and it seemed as though the whole sea were pouring from the sea goddess into Seras' eyes and right into her soul. She felt bare, naked, and vulnerable, and it made her frightened.

However, the sea goddess slowly turned her head toward the door. "Ah, it seems we have a visitor."

A few moments later, Captain Bernadotte opened the door, which chimed the little shop bell.

"I thought I saw you walk in here," he said calmly.

A small smile graced the sea goddess's lips. "It seems you do not go as unnoticed as you believe, Seras Victoria."

Somehow, her words soothed a wound in Seras' heart like a balm.

Captain Bernadotte didn't seem to hear though. A lit cigarette dangled loosely from his lips, and he jabbed his thumb behind him. "I don't think anyone at the party noticed you leaving, but I think we should head back soon, before the Count starts to worry."

He won't notice I'm gone until it's time to leave well-past midnight, Seras thought bitterly, and she stomped toward the door.

"When a well has dried, there is no shame in seeking water from a different source," the sea goddess said to the little mermaid, "Especially when it offers itself quite willingly."

Seras stopped, and gaped at her.

"Come on," Captain Bernadotte said, not unkindly, as she walked slowly toward the door, unable to take her eyes off the enigmatic sea goddess.

He looked as though he wanted to place his hand on the small of her back to help her out, but he restrained himself, and when she walked through the door he went to join her, until...

"You wish for the girl to look upon you with favor, don't you, good sailor?"

Pip stopped abruptly, and turned to look at her. "What about it?" he said gruffly.

The shopkeeper closed her eyes, and smiled. "Offering support in a time of great distress is effective, good sailor, but Seras does not wish to be teased." She opened her eyes, which poured into his own. "If you wish to seek her hand, you must do it soon, for she will not be free to accept it for very long."

She then turned and strolled calmly back to her large wooden counter.

Pip was affronted. "What... how do you know?"

The young girl with white skin and silvery hair had reclined back in her seat at the desk. She chose not to tell him that he had sea water in his blood (a distant lineage from generations back, perhaps a selkie who fell in love with a man and had many children) for he would not believe her, and it would distract him from the things she needed to tell him now. "She is not from this land that you call home," the little shopkeeper said instead, "as I'm sure you're well aware. She came to this place from far away to find the call of a heart that sings a song like hers. However, she mistook from whence the melody came, and blames herself for the disharmony…"

He was annoyed with the vague riddles, but on the other hand her words evoked a memory in Pip. He knew he'd seen Seras somewhere before; in the sea, in the waves, in the bushes. Then she turned up naked on the beach, with a newness to her and a perfect innocence of human customs despite her physical age. She mooned over the Count as though she had seen him before, and seemed to look to the sea with such a sadness and familiarity that…

"What is she?!" he said suddenly.

Unfazed, the little shopkeeper reclined in her large leather armchair, and smiled gently.

"You must hurry, Mr. Bernadotte," the little girl with the old woman's voice said, "If you wish to make your affections known, your time is running short, and once the chance is gone, it will be gone forever."

"What do you mean? How do I…? How you know my…" actually, considering all her other oddities and the time she had spent with Seras before he arrived, he should not have been surprised that she knew his name. "What do you mean, gone? What's going to happen?"

"She gambled everything she had on an outcome that she had little control over, and will soon lose all."

"But..."

"Would that I could reveal more, but that is all I can say on the matter, Mr. Bernadotte," the shopkeeper said, "The rest is up to you."

"Wha-? Now hold on! You can't just...!"

Seras poked her head back in to see what was taking so long. Pip flinched as though struck.

The little shopkeeper with the face of a child and the voice of a wise old woman stared quietly, and bowed her head. "Good evening, Mr. Bernadotte. Seras Victoria."

The two were very quiet as they walked back to the mansion, each lost in thought.

'She looked so lonely, didn't she?' Seras thought. She wondered if that was to be her fate, if she lived so long. She was beginning to think the Count would never return her affections, and then she would be as sad and lonely and weary at the end of her three hundred years as a mermaid. But she could not even imagine such an endless lifetime...

Pip's thoughts were churning as violently as one of those new-fangled laundry machines; the ones so violent they ripped up the clothes they were supposed to wash. He tried to make sense of that insufferably vague and needlessly mysterious shopkeeper's cryptic words, but could not...

Neither he nor Seras looked at each other as they walked. Her eyes were downcast, and she seemed to struggle not to cry. His eye was looking up, up toward the sunset and over the horizon. After a bit of walking he chanced to look down at Seras. She looked so forlorn as she walked. He inhaled deeply, and looked ahead. It wasn't his business, it wasn't his job, and he would certainly get in trouble with the Count if he acted on it, but there had to be some way to cheer her up...

As they walked they eventually passed Kensington Gardens; a beautiful green park with a lovely lake, filled with swans on the water, with lily pads and lilies and lotuses by the waterbed, little rowboats where lovers cooed over each other, and great willow trees leaned down to kiss the water banks. As they walked by the lake, Seras stopped to look at the little dock of rowboats, where a couple pushed off into the water. The pinks and oranges and golds and rose colors of sunset made a charming atmosphere for the water, and soon the blues and purples and violets of twilight would make it that much prettier.

Seras watched the couples with a mixture of longing and resignation; wanting to join them more than anything, but knowing she couldn't.

Pip watched Seras watching them. He knew she'd always wanted to ride a rowboat, every time she chanced to see one in the past, but her master either didn't notice or didn't care. He was always too busy pursuing his heart's desire. Heck, if given the chance he would just sit in a rowboat with his own sweetheart if given the chance.

Pip hesitated. Part of him knew they had to get back soon, since the boss would chew him out for taking so long to bring her home. On the other hand, the boss never seemed to notice her until she was missing, and he knew it made her miserable. She was having such a hard time recently, and a little ride in a rowboat would make her feel better.

Pip sighed. "I cannot believe I'm doing this," he mumbled under his breath, in his native tongue, as he approached the vendor.

"Sorry gov'ner, it's almost dark," the vendor said, "Most of the boats will be coming in now. We'll be closed soon."

"That's all right, we only need a short ride," Pip said.

"You mean-?"

"We'll rent a boat," Pip said.

Seras' eyes widened in surprise.

Not five minutes later, Pip regretted this decision.

This was the most awkward boat ride of his life. Most of the other rowboats had pulled into the dock now that the sun had set, leaving the two alone in the water. The sun had finally set, painting the world in the deep, luscious blues, violets, purples and pinks of twilight. The ambiance was beautiful, with late summer lilies and lotuses in full bloom, and green lily pads and bulrushes covering the lake's edge. Willow trees kissed the water, creating ripples in the lake, and the babble of the man-made waterfall at the lake's edge made for a lovely orchestra as twilight birds sang their song.

And the tension on the boat was so thick you could cut it with a knife. They both sat there awkwardly, unable to look at each or say anything. At least the girl's expression had changed from miserable to awkward, so that was a step up, but she still couldn't meet Pip's eyes as they rowed. Pip himself didn't know what to say, so he rowed on, mentally kicking himself for this disastrous idea. Part of him wanted to dock this boat right now, go straight back to the party, and pretend this never happened. But he'd already paid for this boat ride, and part of him feared that if he left now Seras would feel even worse.

As the two tried not to show how awkward they felt, something rustled in the bulrushes.

Little did they know, some magical creatures had been waiting months for the little mermaid to touch water whose source led to the sea (as the Kensington Gardens lake, at this time, connected to the Thames, which connected to the sea), and the magic had finally alerted them to her presence. They had missed her dreadfully these last several months, but they were helpless to follow her to land, and only now could they reach out to her.

"There she is!" a cheerful young lady chirped, "See? See? There she is! I told you she was here!"

"What about me? I'm the one who got you here! I am everywhere und nowhere!" a cocky young boy exclaimed.

"Thank you for leading us to her, Rip and Schro," one of the mermaids told the siren and the sea devil, finally giving them the praise they craved, if just to keep them quiet.

"There she is!" a more sensible young lady's voice chimed, "Oh, look at her! Look how much she's grown!"

"Why does she look so sad?" another asked.

"I don't know, I can't see anything!"

The excessive rustling from the bulrushes drew a few curious eyes, though thankfully not from the rowboat in question, or else the jig would have been up. You can't really blame them for making a lot of noise though, since there were six of them all crammed together in the space of a commoner's bed.

"Move over!" a young girl whispered from the bulrushes, "Move your big blubber! I can't see a thing!"

"Nothing is happening!" the deep baritone of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen exclaimed, a little too loudly.

"Oh Harkonnen, how ignorant you are in the ways of love!" the siren exclaimed, and did a little twirl in the air and landed daintily beside him. "You know True Love takes time. You cannot rush these things, you know!"

"It's been a year!" Harkonnen bellowed, prompting the chorus mergirls to shush him, and for them all to duck into the bulrushes to avoid being seen.

Pip and Seras stared for a long time, before finally shrugging and rowing on.

"I mean, really!" Harkonnen said in a harsh whisper. "Almost a whole year gone, and that man still hasn't plucked the question!"

"Maybe he's waiting for the perfect moment?" one mermaid said, her back pressed against a few horsetails while her mermaid's tail was draped over the shoulder of the mermaid in front of her, who was peeping between the stalks of tall grass. "A boat ride floating in a blue lagoon** is the perfect opportunity for a romantic proposal."

"They don't seem to be enjoying it," the mermaid in front of her said, shrugging off her tail.

"Ooh, look at him!" exclaimed one girl who wasn't paying attention. "Isn't he handsome?"

"I don't think that's the one she came to land for..."

"How could he not? He's tall, handsome..."

"And she looks bored out of her mind," Harkonnen concluded.

"Never you fear, my fat composure," Rip Van Winkle said, poking his fat belly, "What this calls for is a little vocal, romantic stimulation."

Harkonnen sighed. "This should be good."

The four stage hands who had been closest to Seras when she had worked for Harkonnen were all huddled together at the edge of the bulrushes, swooning over what they thought was a romantic scene.

"Stand back!" Rip Van Winkle exclaimed, and pounced where they stood. Startled by the splash, they all dove into the water and scattered under the lake.

Rip cleared her throat, and gave the best performance of her life! Unfortunately, at this moment she was suffering from a chest cold, so the music didn't come out quite as romantic as she had intended.

Captain Bernadotte winced. "Whoa," he said, trying to make friendly conversation, "someone should find that poor animal and put it out of its misery."

When Seras saw who it was, her eyes became big as plates. Pip looked where she was looking, but the "poor animal" had moved. Seras could only stare in horror as the well-meaning siren continued her racket from atop a tree branch. What had started out as an unbearably awkward boat ride became an unbearably awkward boat ride with the sound of a dying animal as musical accompaniment. Seras could only grimace as Rip gave her a wink and a thumb's up. Unable to take it anymore, Seras smashed her face into the palm of her hand.

From the bulrushes, Harkonnen had to cover his ears. "Ugh, I'm surrounded by amateurs!"

Unable to take it any more, he ordered the girls to grab some turtles, and dove into the water himself. "You want something done," he said, grabbing a reed from stalk, "You've got to do it yourself."

Once everyone had the necessary tools, they met back at their rendezvous point in the bulrushes. "First," he instructed the girls, "You've got to create... the mood!"

They all grinned.

"Percussion!" he directed, and three of the girls drummed on the bellies of the turtles.

"Strings!" he directed to the forth, who used her magic on the crickets.

"Winds!" he directed the breeze with his own magic.

"Words," he concluded, and drew close enough to the boat so that his voice could be heard, but far enough away so that the human's simple mind could chalk it up to the wind and not be bothered by the presence of a merman.

Harkonnen may have been fat and lazy and slovenly, but he was a masterful singer with a deep baritone, and he could sing as romantically as the best of them.

There you see her

Sitting there across the way

She don't got a lot to say

But there's something about her...

Captain Bernadotte slowly roused from his depressive cloud. He could not tell consciously what he was hearing, but subliminally he was picking up cues from the music of the environment.

Even Seras' awkward grimace melted to a pleasant passive expression, enjoying the twilight view and the musical breeze... until she saw Harkonnen, and her jaw dropped.

Harkonnen had emerged from the water, and he was right behind Captain Bernadotte! As the boat continued to float, he was now behind his left ear, and continued to sing:

And you don't know why

But you're dying to try

You wanna: kiss the girl

Harkonnen ducked back into the water just as Pip turned his head. He submerged so smoothly that he didn't create so much as a ripple.

"Did you hear something?" Pip asked.

Seras grinned and shrugged.

The second Pip's head was turned, she clutched the bulwarks and leaned over the side of the boat, searching frantically. Imagine her surprise at seeing the stage hands of her girlhood, each drumming a turtle's belly and singing their subliminal song.

'Harkonnen?! Girls?!' she screamed into her own head. 'What are you doing here?!'

"Yes, you want her!" they all continued in unison, as subtle as the evening breeze. "Look at her, you know you do."

Something in their voices must have spurred him, because Captain Bernadotte smiled at her and leaned forward.

Seras, always hungry for attention and affection, leaned forward and grinned at him.

It's possible she wants you, too

There is one way to ask her

It don't take a word

Not a single word

Go on and kiss the girl

The spell was broken for Seras, who knew that she did not want Mr. Bernadotte that way. She quickly leaned back and looked away, not wanting to lead him or her well-meaning family on.

Seeing her smile drop and her face turn away, Pip's smile dropped too, and he continued to row, bitterly and dejectedly.

Harkonnen and the three girls frowned. This simply would not do. Gesturing for the girls to put down the instruments, Harkonnen smiled at them. "Sing with me now."

The mermaids swam across the lake and around the boat as quickly and freely as eels, singing in their pretty tenors:

Sha-la-la-la-la-la!

My, oh, my!

Look at the boy too shy

Ain't gonna kiss the girl

Pip continued to row forlornly, knowing it was useless to try to court a girl who didn't want him.

Seras could only huff and sigh. 'Not him!' she thought, 'Not him! You've got the wrong one!'

Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Ain't that sad?

Ain't it shame, too bad

You gonna miss the girl

Seras didn't mean to be unkind or ungrateful. She knew they meant well, but she had not seen them in months, and they knew nothing of the man she loved. She had spent so long trying to win the Count's heart, especially as he pursued another. If they had shown up at any other time, in any other place, when she and her beloved were alone, this would have been tremendous help. Instead, of course, with her luck, they turned up during the one time in the year she was completely alone by the water with Captain Bernadotte, and they directed their efforts to bringing her together with him instead of the one she loved.

Seras tried to shake her head and wave them away as they sang, then started making cutting motions with her hand in front of her throat as though to say, "Cut it out!"

When she saw Pip quirk an eyebrow at her odd behavior, she felt her face burn. She morphed her grimace into an embarrassed grin, and tried to disguise her cutting motion by rubbing her hand on her neck. Hopefully he would buy that she had just been rubbing her neck with her hand and not motioning for some mythical creatures he wasn't supposed to know existed to stop playing match-maker?

"Look, I know you've been having a hard time since Mademoiselle Integral Hellsing came back into the picture," Pip said kindly.

One good outcome of the song was that it cut the tension and awkwardness that had petrified them both at the start of the boat ride. Pip was much more loose and relaxed, casual and friendly, as he always used to be, and he spoke to her as friendly and familiarly as he had in the old days, when they used to spend so much time together. Seras didn't realize how much she'd missed the way he used to talk to her, until he spoke to her just now. Her frantic desire to end the song ended itself, and all she wanted was to hear what he had to say.

"But I just wanted to let you know, just because the Count has found another girl doesn't mean your life has to end."

Seras made a nasty face to let him know what she thought.

Pip laughed. "Ja, I know. No girl wants to hear the man she loves has fallen for another."

Seras grimaced. Every word out of his mouth felt like it was squeezing her heart tighter and tighter, and she glared and shook her head.

"But you know," he continued, "There are plenty of other fish in the sea. Usually I tell that to my boys, but it's just as true for lovely girls like you."

Still frowning, Seras blinked in confusion.

"In fact, it's especially true for lovely girls like you," he said, looking her in the eye and smiling sincerely. "Men like me and the count? We move mountains for pretty girls who snatch our hearts. We dedicate our whole lives to her. Girls like you? You have the beauty to hit a man like lightning, to hold a man's heart in the palm of your hand. Your smile alone can make a man revolve around you like the moon around the earth."

Seras raised her eyebrows to such an analogy.

He took a long enough pause to light another cigarette. He inhaled a lungful of burning courage. "And I just want you to know, just because the count is spoken for, this does not mean there is not another man in the world who would... who would do anything to make you smile." He placed his hand over hers. "Who would do anything to place the world in your hands," he concluded.

Seras' eyes widened, and then she smiled tenderly. Her heart swelled, and her cheeks burned.

That old feeling was coming back again. The one she felt when he taught her how to ride horses, then laughed and teased her in that good-natured way. That feeling she'd felt welling in her chest in that cabin in the Lake District, after she had fallen and hurt herself and they sat together by the fire. She had been so sad at the time, but his kind and comforting words had soothed the wound in her heart like a balm, which spread like a pleasant warmth in her chest. That feeling had been as soft as a murmur back then, but it had never gone away. Not truly. It had come back stronger when she had rested her head on his lap as they had ridden to London together. It had come back when Walter had him bring her meals when she had been recovering from her leg, and come back stronger each time he sat at her bed and talked pleasantly by the hour. It came back stronger than ever when she returned to Carfax and they were at the horse stables again, like better times.

A pleasant warmth spread through her chest, though her heart throbbed and her face burned. She felt embarrassed, content, restless, relaxed, all at once. Part of her wanted to get up and run, another wanted to dance in the water under the moonlight, another wanted to hide under her own skirts, another wanted to just stay right where she was but avert her eyes, another wanted to look into his eyes all at once.

He'd always been so good to her (well, when he wasn't teasing her

Pip and Seras stared deep into each other's eyes, careless of where their little rowboat drifted.

As it so happened, it drifted right toward the weeping willow by the lake's edge, and the merfolk who had Seras' best interests at heart parted the branches so they could drift smoothly inside.

Now's your moment

Floating in a blue lagoon

Boy, you better do it soon

No time will be better

The mermaids all hopped in and out of the water, swiftly and silently as little fish.

"Ja!"

"Ja!"

"Ja!"

"Ja!" they each sang in their sweet little voices.

She don't say a word

And she won't say a word

Until you kiss the girl

The mermaids all swam swiftly under the boat, then around and around in faster and tighter circles until the little rowboat began to spin at a slow pace.

They pulled out all the stops for the final chorus of the song, singing loudly and playing quickly and spinning rapidly for the most romantic affect.

Sha-la-la-la-la-la!

Don't be scared

You got the mood prepared

Go on and kiss the girl!

"Whoa-whoa!" one of the stage girls exclaimed.

Fireflies joined the dance around the little rowboat, and they flickered and glowed around the couple. Seras looked especially enchanting by the light of the little glow flies, whose golden light reflected off her yellow hair to the best possible effect. This, along with the light of the full moon peeping between the branches of the willow to reflect off her pale white skin, shining from her bright blue eyes and her winning smile.

Sha-la-la-la-la-la!

Don't stop now

Don't try to hide it how

You wanna kiss the girl!

"Whoa-whoa!" all the stage girls exclaimed.

By now they had emerged from the water and sang and sang as loudly and as passionately as they dared without drawing the human's attention, but he was too lost in the spell and Seras' eyes to notice them.

Just then, the siren Rip Van Winkle jumped among them and tried to add her lovely singing voice to the chorus. Still in the throws of a chest cold (although she would never admit it), her wretched squawking nearly disrupted the enchantment. Not missing a beat, the other mermaids' melodies did not so much as waver as they grabbed her, wrestled her down, and covered her mouth.

Sha-la-la-la-la-la!

Float along

Listen to the song

The song say kiss the girl!

"Whoa-whoa!" they all sang together.

The mermaids used the last trace amounts of their magic to bring the fish along, swam around the boat and gushed steady streams of water into the air like little water fountains. The effect of the little water fountains, accompanied by the fireflies, accompanied by the willow branches and the full moon and the deep blues and violates of early evening created the best possible ambiance for a romantic evening.

Sha-la-la-la-la-la!

Music play

Do what the music say

You wanna kiss the girl!

Pip was completely entranced by the magic of the song. He could not have noticed something out of the ordinary even if it had been pointed out to him. He had eyes only for Seras, and how beautiful and sweet and enchanting she looked at that moment. Seras-beautiful, sweet, innocent, naive, trusting, infuriating, silly, ridiculous, gullible, excitable, exasperate-able Seras.

Seras herself was smiling shyly and demurely, which only added to her charm instead of subtracting from it. Part of her felt like she should pull away rather than encourage... whatever it was that was occurring between them, but that small part of her was drowned out by a new wave of feelings she had never experienced before. Actually, part of what scared and excited her was that these were not new feelings at all, but old feelings that had been a gentle murmur in the background of her heart, now brought to the forefront by the magic and romance of the song.

Long buried feelings flourished to the surface as they looked into each other's eyes, no longer checked by duty or propriety. Pip no longer thought of the class structure that separated them, with her being the boss's ward and a lord's foundling. Seras no longer thought of the loyalty she felt she owed a man who rarely seemed to notice her anymore.

"You've got to... kiss the girl..." they murmured.

Maybe this was not so bad, Seras thought as he leaned toward her, and her heart skipped a beat.

"Why don't you... kiss the girl..." they sang.

He was looking at her the way all girls want to be looked at some time, and her starving heart lapped it up. She had wanted so badly to love and be loved and to be treasured by someone as deeply as she treasured them that her heart forgot how her mind had made up its mind that it wanted someone else.

"You gotta... kiss the girl..." they murmured.

Far away she'd heard the call of a heart that sang a song like hers. From the moment she'd left her world behind and thought she had found that melody with the Count, part of her soul was aware of the lack of harmony; something her heart and mind were far from aware of. If she had noticed it at all, on some level she believed she was the one at fault, and that if she just kept trying to woo him and please him eventually the harmony she'd heart from far away would come back again.

Her heart had longed for such harmony, and found only trace amounts when she was near the stables and the evening rides. Only now, as the captain drew near, did she feel it again.

Her mind was far from aware of it, else she would have drawn away, but her heart and soul drank in the peace and ease of the harmony that she unconsciously drew closer, scarcely aware of what she was doing or what she was feeling.

Rip and Harkonnen were literally shaking in anticipation.

"GO ON AND...!" Harkonnen exclaimed.

"... Kiss the girl..." they all sang.

Pip leaned closer, and Seras' breath hitched. Whatever feeble protests her mind could possibly think of were drowned in the moment.

Then the boat tipped over, and they were both plunged into the icy cold water.

The mermaids all gaped in horror, and Harkonnen slapped his palm to his forehead.

The twilight birds screeched and flapped away, and the fish in the water all bolted from under the tree.

"Whoa, hold on! I got'cha!" he said when they emerged, as Seras struggled to catch her breath.

Deep beneath the surface of the lake, a pair of silvery-green eyes flashed in the dark, and Schrodinger snickered.

"Nice work, boy!" Zorin exclaimed as he appeared beside her.

"Please, it's what I do!" he said, "I am everywhere, und nowhere."

"And it's a good thing you were there!" she growled.

They watched the young couple emerge from the lake with her magic mirror. The man stood tall and steady, and offered his hand to the girl, small and buxom and dressed in light blue, who accepted demurely and gratefully.

"That was a close one," Zorin snarled, "too close! The little tramp!" She rounded on Schrodinger. "I thought you said she loved the Count!"

"She does," Schrodinger said easily. "But he does not love her back, und she could only be expected to pine after him forever. Sooner or later her wounded little heart will yearn to heal! Und she'll seek out some other fine gentleman who could ease her pain, und return her love!"

"Faithless little whore!" Zorin spat.

Schrodinger smiled easily. "You'd better hurry, Zorin," he mocked, "Soon her affections will begin to shift, und you cannot expect her delicate little heart to break und her mermaid's tail to reform if the new man she loves returns her feelings the way the old one failed."

It was a loophole in Zorin's spell that they both knew too well. As long as Seras loved the Count, her stay on land hinged on his affection for her. If he returned her love and married her, so that his soul poured into hers along with his wedding vows, she would remain human forever. If he married another, then her heart would break, her human body would "die," and then it would melt away and her mermaid's tail would reform.

And Zorin had made sure that Seras had no chance of falling in love with another man, and that the Count had no chance on returning her affection, before she had even agreed to this spell.

She had grilled Schrodinger on the strength and devotion of the little mermaid's love for the Count before agreeing to see the girl, and had sent Schrodinger to spy on the Count for a long time to ensure that his devotion to another girl (the little church girl) was steadfast and absolute.

Only when Zorin felt certain that her plan would work did she agree to it. So Schrodinger had tattled on Seras to the Sea King, knowing he would be furious and destroy her things, and Zorin had sent the eels to comfort Seras in her darkest hour, and bring her to her home when she was most vulnerable. Schrodinger knew that only when Seras was on the brink of despair and felt her life on the sea floor was over would that she would risk everything for the Count... and only when her heart was broken by the Count would she forget all this nonsense about the surface and graciously return to her old life in the sea.

"Don't you think I know that, you stupid little boy?!" Zorin roared so loud the bones of her little cottage rattled.

Anyone else in the sea floor would have trembled at Zorin's rage, but Schrodinger shrugged indifferently.

"Perhaps it's time you used some magic to hurry things along," he said airily.

"Perhaps you are right," she said, and then the rage of admitting it caused her to snarl and swim forward.

"We've waited almost a year and still that little church whore has not put out!" she exclaimed as she threw open her cabinet of potion vials and ingredients.

In her rage, she shoved a few vials aside so that they shattered against the wall, then furiously swiped the ones she needed.

"Well, it's time Zorin took matters into her own tentacles!" she shouted, then chucked them into her cauldron so hard they shattered, burst, and boomed.

"Triton's daughter will be mine!" she said in the glow of her potion, "And then I'll make him writhe… I'll see him wriggle like a worm on a hook!"

She laughed maniacally as the potion did its work.

Schrodinger watched all of this with a secretive smirk.

Oh right, Zorin still believed Seras was the Sea King's youngest daughter. And why shouldn't she? Schrodinger had told her.

She had sent him to spy on the Sea Palace many years ago, since most of her other spies had no power there. Of course, those magical wards did not affect Schrodinger, for he was everywhere und nowhere. And it was there that Schrodinger had met Seras, a common chamber maid who tidied the royal bed chambers of the royal princesses, and his whole world had changed forever.

Oh, he spied for Zorin still, when it was still needed, but really, everything he ever wanted or needed was in Seras. She was everything to him, und nothing. She was his plaything, his playmate, his friend, his treasure, his sister, his mother, and his wife all in one. He could never want for anything as long as she was around. When they were together, nothing else in the world mattered to him except for her.

He floated over to Zorin's enchanted mirror, and felt his heart flutter as he watched Seras brush water off her bodice.

He could have spent his whole life swimming beside her and been content. But then she had fallen in love with that stupid count, and then she was no fun anymore. All she ever did was moon and pine for him. Schrodinger had decided to set up this trick so Seras could go to land to join the count, then get her heart broken, then learn her lesson and decide to live out the rest of her life under the sea, and then she would be Schrodinger's again.

Of course, Zorin would not be happy when she learned the truth, but what did he care? Zorin would not have agreed to give Seras a potion that spared her life unless she thought she was getting a valuable slave, but once the damage was done there was no turning back. Once Seras was a mermaid again, Zorin would either keep her anyway out of spite (and she seemed to like Seras' buxom figure as much as Schrodinger did, so he doubted she'd turn her into a polyp), or let her go. Either way, Seras would be under the sea again and with Schrodinger again.

The only problem was how long it was taking. Thankfully Zorin had other schemes and clients to keep her busy while they waited, including the Sea King's real youngest daughter, who had fallen for a prince. With her to wait on, Zorin had waited for Seras more or less patiently. Being without Seras for over a year was the hardest part for Schrodinger, but since he was everywhere und nowhere, he spent a lot of time visiting Seras' subconscious and dreams to pass the time. But now it was drawing close to a year, and he and Zorin were both tired of waiting. It was time to close the curtains and bring this farce to an end.

He leaned so close to the mirror that he could touch it, and he touched Seras' cheeks so that the potion of the mirror rippled.

"Soon, mein Schatzi" he grinned, "soon you will be right where you belong."


* When Oscar Wilde was alive, he directed actors who performed "The Importance of Being Earnest" to deliver the lines as seriously and deadpan as possible. (A far cry from how they're always delivered in a silly and goofy fashion today!) The idea was to satirize London high society by having characters look, act, and talk as seriously and self-importantly as real London socialites, with the "humor" coming from them saying perfectly ridiculous things (that highlight the ridiculousness of London society) in that serious manner. Unfortunately, no one told Seras this, so she thinks the things they say are supposed to be taken seriously, and that's why she hates it.

** It's actually a lake, not a lagoon. They've just never been outside the sea so they call it something they're familiar with.