When Ariel awoke, still curled on the balcony to her chambers, it was to a beautiful dawn and her young prince standing above her.
"Ariel," he said, his tone hinting at something more urgent than the simplicity of her name, though she knew not what. "What are you doing out here?"
"Eric," she whispered, sitting up at the sight of him, so fast that dizziness flooded her senses. She blinked it away and stretched, then yawned with her hand to her mouth, as ladies do.
She smiled up at him. "I wanted to watch the sun go down," she said, "I must have fallen asleep."
He frowned, causing the smile to drop from her face. He tugged her up and wrapped his coat around her—it was large on him, but it nearly consumed Ariel.
He rubbed her arms, and she frowned at him, for she did not feel cold. "What is it?" she asked. "Have I done something wrong?"
His features softened, and he pressed a kiss to her dark hair. "No," he said, shaking his head, taking her hands and squeezing them. "No, you haven't. I was just worried."
She cocked her head. "I do not see reason for concern?"
He pressed his warm hand to the side of her face, running his thumb over her cheek. "It's cold out here, at night. It isn't good for you to be out here."
"But I am fine. I am not harmed."
He shook his head. "But could you not, for me?" he said. "It worries me."
She looked down at the lace hem of her night gown. "Of course. Of course, Eric." She mumbled.
"Thank you," he said. "Now, why don't we go inside?"
She nodded and allowed him to lead her inside, her eyes falling upon a young lady-in-waiting hovering by her door with her hands clasped in front of her, eyes lowered to the floor in the suitable amount of respect—another custom Ariel had yet to understand.
Flounder never would have done such a thing, not unless he was mocking someone.
"Heather will see to you," Eric said, squeezing her shoulder and looking between the two women—one, his princess and wife, the other someone under his employ who would bend to his every whim. "I will leave."
Ariel opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it, not wanting to appear indecent. "Yes, Eric. I will meet you downstairs."
He nodded, pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaving.
Heather took a step forward, her gaze shifting upward, but still not enough to meet Ariel's eye. "May I take your coat?" she said.
Ariel shook her head, wrapping the monstrous pile of fabric closer around her. "No. I would rather keep it on, thank you."
Heather's eyes widened. "Very well, m'lady. But, might I ask, how will you be dressed?"
Ariel shook her head and wandered over to her bed—even bigger than the one she had back in Atlantica—and sat down on it, running her fingers over the soft covering and strange patterns.
"Heather?" she said in a quiet voice.
She took another step forward. "Yes, m'lady?"
Ariel sighed. "Call me by my name. Ariel. No one calls me by my name."
Heather cocked her head to the side, brows furrowing together in confusion. "M'lady, I do not think I am allowed—"
"Ariel."
Heather swallowed. "Ariel," she said, and looked around, like guards were to spring through the wallpaper. "Lady Ariel."
Ariel shook her head and huffed, and opened her mouth to explain—and stopped. She sighed again. "Good enough. Thank you, Heather."
"You're welcome," she said, dropping into a shallow curtsy. "Now, how do we go about getting you dressed?"
Ariel rubbed her temples. "Yes, alright," she said, and quickly shed Eric's long coat.
Heather clucked her tongue and flicked a stray piece of hair back under her uniform cap—it was in that moment Ariel noticed she had brown hair, dark and curly—and she walked over to Ariel's large, walk-in closet, pulling open the doors and frowning at the items of clothing she found there.
"What dress would you like for today, Lady Ariel?" she almost said m'lady again, but caught herself, flashing a nervous smile at her shoes and probably hoping Ariel hadn't noticed.
"I'm not sure," she blew at her dark fringe and fell back onto her bed, staring at the patterned ceiling above her.
"How about the light pink? Or perhaps the soft yellow?" she said, unhooking the dresses and lying them flat on the bed for Ariel to contemplate.
She sat up and her face scrunched as she peered at them. "Neither," she said. "Maybe the deep green?"
Heather nodded wordlessly and took the dresses back, returning with a dark green dress made out of soft fabric, with lighter coloured sleeves made out of silk.
Ariel smiled. "Yes. Thank you, Heather,"
"You're welcome, Lady Ariel." Heather said. As she was helping her dress—one more thing Ariel thought extremely strange—Heather said, almost absentmindedly, "You know, Lady Ariel, Prince Eric calls you by your name. Do not forget him."
Ariel turned around and waited while she affixed a headband in her hair. "I won't. Thank you."
While Heather patted down her dress, smoothing away any loose threads or fluff, Ariel couldn't help but imagine the mermen and mermaid servants roaming the halls in Atlantica, right now, and how if she were there, how different their behaviour would be to the servants in the castle. In Atlantica, Ariel was allowed to laugh and joke with the servants, and even play around with them. She couldn't ever imagine any of that being condoned here.
She couldn't ever envision counting to one-hundred seasnakes while Heather hid behind a marble pillar.
"There," Heather said and straightened, snapping her out of her reverie, and smiled down at Ariel's frame. "You look beautiful, Lady Ariel."
Ariel felt colour rush to her cheeks at the compliment. "Thank you."
Heather nodded at her. "I'll leave you to your own devices," she said, shuffling toward the door. "Goodbye, Lady Ariel."
"Goodbye, Heather," Ariel said, and then she was gone, without the whisper of a shadow.
Ariel almost jumped up after her, just to inspect how she could disappear that quickly, but she stopped, and pressed her hands into her thighs, breathing out slowly.
She eventually walked toward the door, the warm hum of voices from downstairs bouncing around her. She swallowed the ball of nervousness that stuck in her throat and ventured out of her doorway.
She started to descend the staircase, pasting on a smile, only half ready to meet what awaited her.