Chapter 6

DARIUS'S palm throbbed and stung from the encounter with the sea witch. The icy touch of her hand, brushing against his skin, left a lingering burn and a tightness in his chest. Standing outside his home on the outskirts of the hamlet, he hesitated to enter, fearing what awaited him inside.

Uncertainty plagued his mind—had Helena been deceived by the sea witch, or was she safe within their house? Was he now a plaything for the whims of these gods? The memory of his pact raced through his heart, leaving him convinced that he had traded his very soul to save his beloved. And yet, if given the chance, he would repeat his actions without hesitation.

The thought sent shivers down his spine. Since his return from the witch's realm, a chilling presence had haunted him, growing more potent as he approached his home. He couldn't discern if it was excitement or fear that churned in his gut, but he knew one thing for certain—he would not allow Helena to perish. The sea witch had requested his cooperation, however fleeting, and he had granted it. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he approached his home with gentle strides and pushed open the door.

Inside, his wife stood by the small wooden sideboard near the hearth, preparing their evening meal.

Helena's condition had worsened over the weeks, and he insisted she stays home in the evenings and takes their meals here at the house, shielding Prince Eric from her plight. Darius kept his gaze fixed on his wife, savoring every moment as he observed her cooking, humming an unfamiliar tune. With her back turned, she seemed unaware of his presence.

When she finally turned and shyly smiled at him, his heart swelled with joy at their reunion.

"My love, will you stand there all day, or will you come and assist me, Darius? The sooner you help, the sooner we can eat. You must be hungry," she cheerfully called out, prompting him to rush forward and relieve her of the burden of plates and bowls filled with a hearty stew. Setting the table and arranging their dinner took little time. Throughout the preparations, his eyes never left his wife's gaze, captivated by the wonder reflected in her dark eyes. However, he furrowed his brow as he noticed her persistently pale complexion and the prominent dark circles under her eyes. Helena noticed his concerned expression and shot him a puzzled smile.

"I know that look, my love. Something troubles you. What's the matter, Darius?" she inquired, tilting her head curiously.

"Helena, my love..." he began in a hushed voice, gazing at the beautiful woman before him, still amazed by her ability to take his breath away even after a decade of marriage. He gently brushed a finger against her cheekbone. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?" he asked, his voice filled with concern and a tinge of suppressed anger and hurt. His hand instinctively moved over her stomach, the source of her suffering. Helena shook her head, but her faltering demeanor betrayed her. She leaned into his warmth, her dark eyes freely exploring his handsome face.

"Just a little," Helena admitted, her voice tinged with pain, though she tried to maintain an innocent tone.

With a sigh, she set down the half-poured tankard of mead and grabbed onto Darius's shoulders as he guided her to her chair, helping her to sit. Instead of joining her, he knelt by her side.

"Then let me ease your pain," he murmured, his voice carrying a low growl, surprising her as his lips descended upon hers. This kiss bore a marked change—a sense of urgency and desperation unlike any before.

His lips pressed against hers with an intensity that bordered on bruising, his face radiating an undeniable heat. It felt as if his entire being was consumed by a fiery passion. Their mouths remained locked, leaving no room for objections to escape.

He held her firmly by the waist, his touch both possessive and tender. Helena felt tears welling in her too-pale cheeks, uncertain about this sudden transformation in her husband.

But as his lips moved to her ear, whispering her name with an unparalleled longing, she couldn't help but be captivated.

Even on their wedding night, Darius had never expressed such profound desire. At that moment, she became the sole focus of his attention, his deepest yearnings, and for a fleeting instant, the pain seemed to fade away.

When her lungs began to ache, urging for a breath, Helena gently pushed against his chest, conveying her need for a moment of respite. Darius understood and reluctantly released her, his face flushed and his azure eyes heavy with desire.

They remained in a charged silence, the air pregnant with unspoken emotions. Darius's gaze never wavered from Helena's, his love and concern mingling in his searching eyes. Sensing the weight of his unspoken words, she leaned closer to him, her voice soft and filled with anticipation.

"Darius, my love... Tell me what troubles you," she implored, her fingers tenderly caressing his cheek. "I can see the turmoil within you. Please, let me share your burden."

She shakily wiped at her mouth with the backs of her fingers, shaken and confused by this change.

"Darius!" she nearly squealed in shock and surprise. "What has come over you? What's going on, what's happened? You've done something, my love, what did you do? Is it Eric? Have you rowed? Or is it Lucas again?" Helena colored slightly as Darius's lips twitched. He looked away for a moment and ran a hand through his thick black hair in anguish. It was a moment before he spoke.

"…she lied to me…that lying rotten fat sow, I'll kill her myself," she heard him in a low voice she could only describe as a vicious growl. It frightened her, to hear her normally sweet and mild-mannered husband talk like this, as though possessed by a devil.

Helena frowned, feeling her lower lip start to tremble as she realized that for the first time since she had met the man who'd stolen her heart before she'd even known it was gone, as the lady Ariel was doing to their Prince, Darius was keeping something from her, hiding a wretched secret from her and not telling her what was wrong.

As Helena prepared to delve deeper into the conversation, a sharp pang ripped through her abdomen, causing her to wince and clasp her hand tightly around her midsection.

It marked the third or fourth time in the past hour that such pain had surged through her stomach. She turned away from her husband, attempting to take deep breaths, but the agony convulsed her body, leaving her unable to do anything but let out a pained moan.

Without hesitation, Darius extended his hand and gently rested it on his wife's knee, refusing to rise from where he knelt beside her chair. However, amidst her torment and still nursing the wounds of his secret-keeping, a revelation that had never occurred in their years together, Helena tensed and withdrew further into her seat, recoiling.

"Don't touch me, Darius!" she cried out in terror, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to catch her breath, which seemed to elude her.

Darius jolted, swiftly retracting his hand as if it had been scorched. He was overwhelmed with frustration and self-directed anger for entering into that pact with the witch. In the brief moment it took for him to redirect his gaze back to his wife's stricken face, he realized his mistake. The witch had deceived him; he was certain of it.

His beloved wife had not been healed—what else could he call this if not suffering? All he could do was bear witness as Helena's discomfort escalated. Her knuckles turned white as she clung to the chair's arms for support, and Darius yearned for it to be his hand she reached out for. After several minutes, her painful bout finally subsided and Helena looked at Darius with tear-filled, terrified eyes, her mind returning to the suspicion that something with her husband was wrong.

"Something has happened," she whispered timidly as she trembled. She nodded to herself, sure of her words. "What's wrong, Darius? Tell me. Is it Eric or Lucas?" she asked, biting her lip as she searched his face for any hint of the truth, though her husband's eyes were glassy.

Her mind felt like it was reeling as she struggled to understand what could have caused the shift in her husband's normally sweet countenance. But this, he was behaving as if he were possessed, and she his most prized possession.

And she did not like it.

A chill ripped through her at the idea.

"Darius, please. Please help me understand. There is a change in you. What's happened? Talk to me," she begged in a soft voice.

She looked at him with worry and concern as Darius settled his gaze on the window of their home, though with the storm that was now fast approaching their hamlet, she doubted he could see anything. He kept whatever expression he wore out of sight. This was not a promising sign.

After several moments of heavy silence between them, Darius finally spoke.

"It is nothing, darling. Nothing worth worrying over. You are sweet to worry about me, Helena, but I am fine. I just…ran into someone I wasn't expecting, that's all."

She froze at hearing her husband's voice. It was not his voice. The words may have come from his lips, and he may have spoken to them, but his tone was dull and lifeless. He spoke to her now as if he were trying to keep whatever he was truly feeling out of his tone. Helena reeled back in her chair as she felt the sprouting of anger and betrayal bubbling hotly within her chest.

"If nothing is the matter, then why will you not look at me?" Helena combated. Her demeanor grew angry as her temper swelled.

She felt her breathing rate increase as she angrily pushed away the bowl of soup in front of her that would go cold and untouched the rest of the night, she was sure.

"I—I'm getting tired, Darius, I-I should probably rest. I think I need to go to bed. I think perhaps you should take a walk, Darius. I can't have you near me when you're like this, I…it hurts too much. Please. Just go."

Her eyes now swimming in tears begged for her husband until she rose to her feet, keeping one hand around her middle and using her other hand to wipe off her tears. She turned and away and shuffled slowly towards their bedroom at the back of their two-room house, leaving Darius watching her go, only able to listen to the sound of her crying as he rose to his feet and slowly made his way towards the door. He slammed the door shut behind him so loudly that the old oak panel shook in its nearly rusted iron hinges when he sensed Helena would not turn in his direction and look at him, and the distraught man was smart enough not to look back.

Storming away from their abode, the man's thoughts became consumed by the visage of his beloved wife. Just the night before, he had been visited by her in his dreams, uttering her name in earnest, not once but twice.

In response, she had turned towards him, adorned with a tender smile that resembled the sweetness of honey.

Her eyes, akin to dark chocolate, welcomed him without the need for words. With her delicate hands placed upon the burgeoning mound of her belly, she gestured a gentle wave. However, an overwhelming sense of dread washed over him.

But, oh gods….

From a distance, he observed the sorceress emerge once more from the water, her lips curving into a knowing smile. Even at this remove, the mere sight of that creature's grin set his heart pounding and beads of perspiration forming on his temples.

Darius had never felt so bitterly cold in all his life.

…what have I done?

ERIC'S heart was nearly in his throat as he guided Ariel towards a stone bench that overlooked the castle's gardens in the Courtyard, having shown her the entire perimeter of his estate while trying to honor her request not to venture beyond the castle walls. He still did not understand why she did not want to go beyond the walls, but he hoped, in time, he would learn why not.

She had cast him a curious look as he led her towards the bench, but Eric could not tell if it was a sense of girlish embarrassment or something else was on Ariel's mind. He found himself bitterly thinking about what he wouldn't give to hear her voice.

Eric was sure that Ariel was the one who had saved his life, no girl in the fishing hamlet nearby had hair as red as hers, like winter fire, but… it surely could not be her. He told himself this because the mermaid that had saved his life had sung to him, a siren's song, and whoever she was had the most melodious voice he had ever heard.

It was Ariel who broke the heavy silence between them as the sound of the quill she had snatched off the table and the scroll of parchment she had been using to communicate with Grimsby filled the air with the sound as she wrote something to him. Eric craned his neck to read the words she penned, made curious as to what was on Ariel's mind now.

Your friend…seems nice, was all the redhead wrote.

"Mmm?" Eric gazed at Ariel intently as she looked up and met his gaze, his eyes never once leaving the redhead's angelic face.

She parted her lips as if she meant to speak and then it dawned on her that she could not, as if she had forgotten already, and to compensate, she raised a finger and pointed at a distant spot, near the edge of the village where Darius and Helena lived on the outskirts of the hamlet in a small and modest, but comfortable enough home.

He vowed to take Ariel there soon enough, thinking she would like their home, the shelves along the walls of which were lined with various nicknacks Darius had given to Helena, remnants of shipwrecks washed up ashore that his wife had taken a secret delight.

Eric smiled to himself as he thought of how Helena and Ariel were similar in that regard, holding an almost childlike fascination with the world's treasures around them. Eric followed where Ariel was pointing and smiled as his eyes rested on his friend's unmistakable silhouette as he made his way toward his home at the edge of the village. He furrowed his brows into a contemplative frown as he recalled how Darius's mood was growing increasingly agitated as the days passed. Darius was growing quieter and his expression more stoic and less jovial, and his friend always seemed fixated on some distant point.

He had also taken notice of how Helena seemed to be tiring easily these days, more so than normal. Eric was certain Darius's wife was not feeling well, but neither one of them had come to him with the information, choosing to keep it between them for a reason he could not fathom why, though he felt oddly betrayed and he could not quite put his finger on it that his friends weren't honest.

Eric's eyes widened as his gaze landed on Darius's unmistakably tall silhouette in the distance, coming their way, though as the older man stalked away from his home and towards the castle, he looked quite upset, a look of despair on his features.

Eric brought his hand up to wave as Darius stalked passed, seemingly not to be bothered, though he would stop for him. Even when he was in a rush, he always stopped.

He was right on top of them now, all Darius had to do was look up and perhaps he would stop a minute and assent to Eric's request to bring Ariel to his and Helena's home in the morning, perhaps for breakfast and then following that, a walk through the hamlet. He would get her out of the castle's borders one way or another, Eric silently promised.

Darius was right on top of them now, all he had to do was look up and he would see him. And when his friend and lieutenant did look up, Eric felt what he could only surmise was a relief when their blue eyes locked and the man whom he'd always thought of as an older brother looked at him. But as Eric's eyes landed on Darius's, there was nearly no recognition on his face at all.

He practically glared at them. Eric halted and stood in the middle of the Courtyard, beckoning his friend to turn around and come back. Instead, Darius stalked past them both, a look of anger and utter despair on the man's devilishly handsome features.

"He didn't stop…he...he always stops," Eric gruffed, furrowing his brows into a frown as he turned towards Ariel and immediately had a blush rise to his face out of embarrassment as he realized he'd spoken out loud.

He recoiled and reddened maddeningly as he realized Ariel did not understand the depth of his bond with the man.

"I—I should have said, Ariel, forgive me," he stammered and immediately began to try to correct his mistake. "Darius is like an older brother to me after mine perished at sea along with my parents when I have had no one else." His tone grew wistful as he continued explaining. "Darius was there when we received word that my parents and brother were drowned and lost at sea. He held me on the ramparts when the harbormaster came to deliver the news. He's been at my side as long as I can remember and is the only family I've ever had since my family's death. He and his wife are all that I have. The only constant. Without them, I would have no home," he confessed, his voice cracking slightly as he told the truth, and he sharply averted his gaze so that Ariel would not see the shimmering pressure building behind his eyes now. "Grims and Carlotta, they do their best and have done their best to raise me and be there for me, but they are preoccupied, and Grimsby has trial enough to keep members of Court off my back. They would see me married to some princess I don't know, nor do I want to know." His face grew crestfallen and his eyes distant as he explained. He briefly tore his gaze away from the young redhead, not wanting to look into Ariel's eyes and see pity therein.

Ariel flicked her curious blue eyes towards Darius's retreating form until the man disappeared through a door that she now knew led to the servant's wing of the castle and only when the door shut behind the man and she could no longer see him did she turn back around to face the Prince.

Eric was astonished to read a thousand unspoken emotions in the young redhead's eyes as their eyes locked and had a private conversation all their own, as if in shared impossible telepathy. Almost as if by magick, though he had never believed in the tales of old.

If I can offer you some advice, Eric, perhaps it's best to get things off your chest now. He's your friend, he works in the castle, and you'll eventually run into him sooner than later, and whatever's wrong, prolonging things won't help.

Eric's eyes widened and then softened once more. His lips parted as if he meant to speak, however, it took him a moment as he was still nursing shock at how he seemingly understood what she was trying to convey without her needing to speak or even scratch her words down onto the piece of parchment she held in her hands she'd taken off the table earlier when in the dining hall. Eric smiled.

"I guess…you're right. I need to speak with him." He furrowed his brows into a frown as he reluctantly tore his gaze away from Ariel and towards the door of the castle that Darius had disappeared behind. "Something's not right," he muttered thoughtfully, his voice turning slightly distant, and it was only when he felt a tug on his arm that he returned his gaze to Ariel beside him.

She was looking at him with such stoniness in her gaze, yet there was something else in the redhead's expression, something Eric could not identify.

Yet he had no time to ponder it as this time, she did write her response down onto the parchment paper, the sound of the quill's point scratching against the rough surface of the paper the only sound that filled Eric's ears for a few minutes until she'd finished.

There might be some things that your friend isn't comfortable talking to you about. I saw how troubled he looked. He probably hasn't told anyone at all what has made him so upset. Not even his wife.

Eric nearly smiled as Ariel's expression brightened at the mention of Darius's wife.

I met her earlier. She was nice. I'd like to speak to her again. Whatever it is, it's enough to make him feel so uncomfortable that he probably feels that he can't tell you what it is. Let him alone for now and let your friend come to you, in time. He will.

Ariel nodded, seemingly so sure of herself that Eric could not help but smile. Even still, he let out a sigh as he shook his head to himself. It was not necessarily the words he had hoped to read as she'd translated her thoughts into the words on the paper he now stared at, but deep down, he knew that Ariel was right, and she seemed wise beyond her years.

She seemed to possess a rare ability to see past the exterior and into the inner workings of the worlds of the people around her.

As the silence around them thickened, an abrupt bitterness seeped into the pit of his stomach. He thought Ariel would have made a fine princess had she been born into his world, but to the best of his knowledge, she was not, as she'd said that she had no family to call upon and likely no documentation, either. The Court. The Court was filled with blue-blooded old men all of them begging for another chance at youth and instead having to live vicariously through him these days was the reason he was so miserable these days at the thought of marrying a princess that Ipswich's nobles would force upon him in the name of his duty.

"If only you were a princess, Ariel…" Eric trailed off as a lump in his throat formed as he stuttered over his words.

Eric felt the blood drain from his face as he realized he'd spoken his words out loud as he met Ariel's confused stare. He recoiled and reddened maddeningly and looked away, clearly angry with himself.

"I-I shouldn't have said that, Ariel, f-forgive me," he stammered. "It's, uh, been such a long day, and Darius…"

-Will I get to see them soon? I'd like to speak with Helena some more, she seemed nice, but we didn't get too much time to talk earlier, Ariel scribbled as she quirked a thin ginger brow at him. She soon met his gaze and smiled.

Eric nodded, reddening.

"Y-yes, you will see them. I will speak with Darius later and ask if he and his wife wouldn't mind if we visited in the morning. I've offered them a private apartment within the castle itself to keep them closeby, but they like their home in the village," he chuckled softly, reminiscing wistfully about the fight they had put up when Eric had asked them to stay in the castle with him, years ago, now. He came back to himself and shook himself out of the memory and back to the present moment at hand. "I was hoping…thinking, tomorrow, if they would have us for breakfast, I would love to show you their home, I think you'd like it, and afterward, I could show you the hamlet. It's something of a cozy retreat for the villagers who live there," Eric offered, hopefully.

He hoped that Ariel would say yes and agree to even just once step foot outside the castle walls but also in that he could speak with Darius in private later and the man would agree. Shaking away thoughts of his friend for now, he smiled in thinking how Ariel was a curious woman, how enthralled she'd been on their walk through the castle's grounds.

The shy smile Ariel graced him with, and the way the redhead's eyes sparkled like gems was a look Eric knew he would always cherish. His heart warmed several times over at the look she gave him while his mind worked frantically to memorize every detail of the woman's awed face. He wanted to remember her this way and remember that she was looking at him and only him this way.

Ariel blushed and nodded.

I'd like that, she tried to communicate with just a look. She was still apprehensive about venturing beyond the castle walls, but with Eric by her side, she thought there could be no safer place. She would go if she was with him...

The look of understanding the Prince returned told her without his need to speak that he understood her sentiment.

"I'm glad," he told her quietly. He lowered his eyes, suddenly bashful, and Ariel followed Eric's gaze to the ground.

Ariel recalled she had not said her thanks and hastily wrote it out.

Thank you, Eric, for…for bringing me back. You did not have to, you could have left me out there on the shore of the beach alone, but…you didn't. You brought me back here. I am grateful that you did, but I can't help but wonder. Why? Ariel wrote, curious. Many men would not have been as generous.

He chuckled, reddening. "I only did what anyone else would do." He tried to dismiss her compliment, though secretly, he was elated.

But Ariel frowned, displeased, he thought, that he was so quick to dismiss her praise.

You are too modest, Your Highness. You should give yourself more credit.

Eric was silent. He gave it a thought, considering.

"I guess, my lady, there are... not many men out in the world like me," Eric nervously chuckled, his blush darkening as he held Ariel in his stare, though the look he gave her was warm and kind. Ariel bit down on her lower lip, considering that very idea, captivated by this Prince of Ipswich. He made no move to head inside, and none towards her either.

Eric simply watched Ariel, silently wishing for nothing more than to remain here with her for all eternity, thinking that this was a woman he could love if she would let him and if the Courts would forsake the law that had long since been written into existence that the ruler of the realm could only marry another of pure noble stock.

Neither of them had even realized it yet, but the storm was fast approaching the realm and would open up its deluge upon the land at any given moment. There were hardly any other souls wandering through the streets of the hamlet in the distance that Eric could see and as far as the castle grounds went, no one was on the grounds.

Not a single body. It was just the two of them alone. Suddenly, a wild gust of wind blew through the air and thunder rolled in the distance as black and purple thunderclouds loomed overhead, and the light gossamer of rain began to spritz their faces.

For a moment, the sudden harsh wind startled them both, Eric's eyes snapping tightly shut. After a moment, as the gust died down, Eric regained his composure as he fluttered his eyes open, just in time to see Ariel's hair whipping wildly and freely in the wind. She was doing her best to tuck her wild hair back into place and growing alarmed when she could not. He found it endearing, yes, but never had he seen a more enchanting sight. He was reminded of a caged bird teeming to be set free.

Eric awkwardly cleared his throat, wanting more time to linger, yet these low temperatures as the storm began to wage war on the land were not good for either one of them.

He felt a sour mood seep into the pit of his stomach at the thought of having to say goodnight to her so soon, yet it was time.

There would be time enough more to speak with her come the morning, and he hoped that Darius would be over the worst of whatever had him so vexed and be amenable to hosting them.

"I…well, it's getting late, and I should see you to your chambers," he stammered, flicking a curious glance towards his guest as Ariel half-smiled and looked down shyly at the new shoes that someone, Carlotta or probably Helena, had found for her.

I suppose…we should, she agreed with a light shrug of her shoulders.

Eric thought he caught a glimmer of disappointment sparking to life in her blue eyes, the uneasiness making the pale blue hue of her irises sparkle as he made to turn away to head inside, though not without offering Ariel his arm first, which she shyly accepted. He hoped that it was not merely what his eyes wanted to see.

He could not be sure, but he seemed to be leaving just as much of an impression on Ariel as she was on him. He could only hope.

Eric let out a shuddering breath as he turned and led Ariel inside, grimacing the moment they stepped into the darkened corridors of his home, and a wave of icy air washed over them.

As he swiftly made his way through the servants' wing of the castle, everyone's eyes seemed to follow them, maids and guards alike. They tried to hide it, but Eric could see the curious glances that met his gaze as they strode past them.

When they reached Ariel's bedchamber that Helena had set up for her while they had been on a walk, she stepped inside.

The sounds that her boot heels made nearly pained Eric to let Ariel go for the night, though the hour was late. He desperately wanted to follow her inside and continue their conversation, to get to know her better, but what he wanted was not appropriate.

Eric was sure gossip of his interest in the young woman who he'd plucked off the beach would have spread throughout the castle by morning. He could only imagine what the maids and guards' wagging tongues that were hung in the middle so they could wag at both ends would say if he were caught emerging from her chamber, and he was not even married to the girl. A fiery heat crept to his cheeks and Eric immediately backed away. Eric awkwardly cleared his throat as he looked towards the bricked wall.

"H-have a good night…Ariel."

Ariel shyly nodded.

Goodnight, Prince, her brilliant blue eyes sparkling like sapphires against the dimly lit interior of her room.

Happily, Eric sank into a low bow as Father used to do Mother, as a king would his queen.

"Until the morning, then, my lady, may you have sweet dreams and rest well," he murmured, gracing her with a smile like sunset before he turned on his heels and heard them vibrate against the cobblestones. His heart sank and his mind clamored as he wanted to plead with Ariel not to shut the door, to let him in, only to hear the lady Ariel shut and lock the bedroom door behind her.

He waited a moment, half hoping he would hear the door open, and when the sting of ache touched him, Eric bit the wall of his mouth and left in search of Darius, his mind racing with so many possibilities at the thought of spending an entire day in the lady Ariel's company alongside his friends.