Marcie opened the door slowly, just a crack so that she could look out. The hallway seemed to be clear. She pushed the door open further, to fact check further, looking left, then right.
"Good," she sighed, relief washing over her. Judging by the brightness, the day was already underway, so she'd been expecting Crazy La—Ariel, to be hanging around.
She stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her softly, though she realized sourly that most likely, no one would care about the noise anyway. Still, it was a habit she shouldn't break, she decided firmly, because she'd be home soon enough.
She walked aimlessly, searching for an out of the way spot. When she'd rolled over in bed and looked at her phone, it was already mid-morning, so she figured it was too late for breakfast. She wasn't very hungry anyway, and besides, she didn't feel like searching for the kitchen again.
Today was the third day she had been gone. It made her nervous to return. What would she even say?
I'm sorry I was gone, I went into a parallel universe where I have a whole family. Oh, and they live in a mansion.
After a while of walking, she found a quiet place to sit. It was by a window, not overlooking the sea, but instead the front of this house. People milled about the courtyard outside, some in a similar uniform to that Captain man. She set down her backpack on the seat, pulling out a spiral notebook and pen afterwards. Then she pulled out her workbook, determinably turning to the right chapter, before tucking herself into the corner of this window seat. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it sure beat staying in that stuffy room.
"Okay," she said to herself, sighing as she clicked her pen. "Chapter 9."
She worked steadily through the rest of the morning, filling the pages of her notebook with cramped, tiny letters. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose a few times, straining her eyes against the now weak prescription. For the first time in days, she felt comfortable, finally able to have control over something.
The redhead was so engrossed in her assignment that she didn't hear the footsteps stop in front of her. Instead, she jumped when she heard a curious voice ask, "What are you doing?"
"Crap!" She swore loudly, feeling her heartbeat in her throat. Marcie looked up, seeing Melody before her, looking slightly alarmed at the reaction. "Don't keep scaring me like that."
"I'm sorry," the dark-haired girl replied, blinking. "I didn't mean to startle you, again."
"Yeah, well," Marcie answered with a huff, returning back to the work before her.
Melody leaned forward, brows drawn together as she tried to make out the letters on the page. "What are you doing?"
"Right now? My essay that was due yesterday," the redhead sighed, exasperatedly looking up. "I'm almost done. Then I'll start on math."
"But you don't have lessons?" Melody responded, confused.
"Yeah, but when I do go back to school, I'll have all this homework to catch up on. If I start now I won't fall behind," Marcie explained, twisting her lips at the thought. "And once you fall behind it gets hard to catch up."
"But you don't know what your tutors will assign?"
Marcie scoffed. "'Course I do. Teachers follow the book. I just gotta do the next few chapters and then I'll be on track."
"What if they give out extra work or tell you to do something differently?" Melody wondered, tilting her head to the side.
Marcie paused for a moment, seemingly having not considered the prospect, putting her pen down as her brows furrowed together. Her nose scrunched up as she thought, finally saying, "I didn't think about that. Maybe I won't get ahead, then. I'll just do what was due for yesterday."
"Have you been working on that essay all morning?" Melody wondered, slightly surprised at the dedication when the girl nodded. "What's it about?"
"Um…vocabulary," Marcie answered, gesturing to her English workbook, which was opened onto page with words and definitions. Melody looked at her dubiously.
"There's a page that's been ripped out," she responded, unsurely.
Marcie gave her an odd look. "Of course a page is missing, this book is super old. All old things are broken, everyone knows that."
"The castle is old and it's not broken," Melody retorted, straightening up and motioning around her. "When something breaks, it gets fixed."
"What do you mean castle?" Marcie questioned slowly, blue eyes flickering to and fro around her. "Don't tell me you guys have this huge house and a castle somewhere."
"This isn't a house," Melody said, now looking confused. "This is a castle. We're in the royal palace, right now."
"Royal what?" Marcie asked, feeling like this conversation was quickly getting away from her. "You're tellin' me that this place is a real, full out, castle? Like, the kind in stories? With King's and Queen's and, like, all that stuff?"
"Yes?" Melody answered, unsure of why this seemed so surprising. The girl's girl's reaction that seemed to be wide ranging. One moment she appeared incredulous, the next, uncertain. "You didn't know?"
Finally, the redhead seemed to settle on disbelieving. "There's no way I'm falling for that."
"I'm not lying to you," Melody defended, upset at the inherent implication. "Haven't you noticed the guards? The servants? The royal crest everywhere?"
"There's a lot of people that work here," Marcie returned, shrugging. "Big whoop. Castles are only in super faraway places, and like, they're probably all museums now. You know, cause they're super old. No one lives in 'em."
"You've been living in this castle for three days!" Melody exclaimed, pushing her dark bangs upwards in frustration. Marcie gave her a skeptical look, clearly unimpressed by the girl's dramatics. "Okay, fine, don't believe me. But I can prove it."
"How're you gonna do that?"
"If you follow me to the library, I can show you," Melody suggested, raising a brow slightly, to see if the girl would actually do so.
Marcie, predictably, hesitated. "How far is the library? I can't go across town, I've still got homework to finish."
Melody's lips curled into a smile, and she laughed. "I meant the palace library."
Marcie narrowed her eyes, irritated that she was being laughed at. "That doesn't answer my question."
"It's not too far from here," Melody replied, still trying to hold back giggles. Having grown up in the palace, it did not occur to her that the question was not be as farfetched as she believed. "About a two minute walk, and then up to the third level. That is, if you don't mind taking the shortcut."
"How long is this gonna take?" Marcie asked again, frowning.
Melody shrugged. "Not too long. I'll probably have to flip through a few books to find the palace building plans, though."
Marcie seemed to digest this information, nervously clicking the pen in her hand. Finally, she shook her head. "No thanks, I'm good. I've really gotta finish this vocab."
"It's just a few minutes," Melody explained quickly, trying to convince the redhead. Quizzically, she asked, "Have you even explored the palace yet?"
"I walked around yesterday. I saw that room with all the paintings and the really giant, open one? Oh, and the hallways. There's a lot of hallways." Marcie answered, undeterred.
"The portrait gallery and the ballroom? That's all you explored?" Melody wondered, eyes wide at the prospect when Marcie nodded. "That's hardly anything! You didn't even have lessons yesterday! Why didn't you see as much as you could?"
"'S not my house," Marcie answered, truthfully. "People don't like it when you snoop. I don't wanna make anyone mad."
Melody felt something on the tip of her tongue, but held herself back. The redhead had a point, it wasn't polite to sneak about another person's home. At the same time, however, a palace was much more than a home. It was the seat of government as well as a place for socializations.
"Well," Melody began, now determined to change the girl's mind. In the very least, in playing host she would appease her parents and get to know this girl better. If they were to be sisters, this was probably a good start. "It's my home. No one would be mad if you're exploring with me."
"But my vocab…"
"It's the weekend, even if you do go back today you've still got time to finish it," Melody responded, casually waving off the idea. "Besides, you said yourself that you're practically done with it."
"I mean, yeah, I am," Marcie said, biting her bottom lip. She really did want to get a better idea of the size of this house.
She took in a deep breath. "Okay. Yeah, sure. Just lemme pack up my stuff."
"Oh, you can leave it there," Melody said, explaining further when she saw Marcie's puzzled features, "No one is going to move it."
"Don't…" Marcie hesitated, trying to find the right words to phrase this. "Won't your folks get mad if my stuff is left out?"
"Mom and Dad have been wrapped up in meetings all day," Melody declared, before leaning in to say, conspiratorially, "I overheard someone say something about experts and handprints. I think they're trying to figure out if you really are Harmony."
"Oh, yeah?" Marcie asked, struggling to keep her voice casual, though she felt her heartbeat quicken. There was an opportunity that this nightmare could be over, she could go back home and put it all behind her! "Does that mean there's a chance I'm not?"
"All I know is, Mother said the jeweler was certain about the bracelet charm being the same as mine. Oh, Mother also said Doctor Berg has that birthmark near your temple recorded in his files, and that Doctor Berg and two village doctors confirmed the prints were the same," Melody responded, pursing her lips. "Apparently, anyone who's seen the handprints believes they're the same."
"You haven't seen them?" Marcie drawled out, surprised at the implication.
Melody made a face. "They're under lock and key, and constant surveillance by the guards. I tried to sneak in yesterday, but it's an order, no one is allowed in without my parents."
"Surveillance?" Marcie repeated, blinking at the idea, before snorting with laughter. "What, do they think it's a super rare diamond? It's just handprints, sheesh."
Melody leveled her a curious look at that. "Handprints that could change the line of succession."
Marcie's face scrunched up, the laughter dying on her lips when she realized Melody didn't seem to find her joke funny. In fact, she seemed very serious about the topic. "What does that mean? 'Line of succession', what's that?"
"You don't know?" Melody questioned, shocked at the concept. Marcie looked at her, seemingly lost. Melody's eyes went wide. "You really don't know. Oh, wow."
"Know what?" Marcie asked, setting the pen she'd been fiddling with down, alongside her notebook. "I don't get it?"
"Let's go to the library, you're going to want to see this," Melody answered, now very serious. The doubts she had about the girl were slowly fading; it was appearing more and more that the redhead had no intentions of cozying up to the royal family. In fact, she was all but sure that the girl had no clue this was the royal family.
"See what?" Marcie said, swinging her legs off the window seat. "What am I missing?"
"Just follow me," Melody answered, grabbing the girl's forearm and quickly pulling her along. She looked back for just a moment, thoughtful, before saying, "And keep up."
"Don't yank me," Marcie warned, pulling her arm away. "I can follow you without being dragged. I'm probably, like, older than you anyway."
"I'm fourteen," Melody said stubbornly, eyeing Marcie from the corner of her eye. Although the girl appeared smaller because she was so thin, in reality Marcie was roughly her height.
"So am I," Marcie retorted quickly, keeping up with Melody's pace with ease. "But I bet I'm faster than you, even if I'm wearing blue jeans."
Melody gave her a doubtful look, her eyes scanning the girl's unusual clothing. She assumed she was referring to the blue trousers she wore. It was clear from the wrinkles in the outfit that the girl had slept in it the past few days.
"Why are you wearing pants?" Melody wondered, a question she had been curious about since the moment she laid eyes on the girl. "Why aren't you wearing a dress?"
"I was on my way back from school when I ended up here," Marcie explained, frowning. "Not here here. Like, in the woods, just outside where the town is. And I sorta just kept walking to the tallest building, which is this place."
"Wait, so you were wearing that to school before you got lost?" Melody asked, taken aback at the idea. Marcie nodded, somewhat uncomfortably, as there seemed to be a lot of people stopping and staring at the two girls. Mostly Marcie. "Do people dress like that where you're from?"
"Yeah, mostly," Marcie answered, rolling back her shoulders. "I mean, I have two dresses, but they're for, like, nice stuff. School dances."
"You only have two dresses?" Melody squeaked, her voice reaching an octave of shock that made the redhead wince.
Marcie made it a point to stare straight ahead, despite her cheeks coloring. "New clothes aren't a necessity. Besides, my best friend's big sister just went through her closet and gave me a bunch of stuff."
"So when she's done with her clothes, she just, gives them to you? And you wear them?" Melody wondered, mystified at the idea.
As a princess, she had grown up with access to a seamstress and had new dresses in her dressing room quite often. While obviously, she realized not everyone had the same privilege, she had never considered what people wore without things magically appearing in one's wardrobe.
"I mean, yeah. Caity's practically my big sister too, it's not weird." Marcie replied, flicking her eyes to Melody. "Haven't you ever worn hand-me-downs?"
"No," Melody answered, rather sheepishly. She realized she was coming off as entitled, but her position in life had not afforded her the same opportunities. "I'm an only child."
Spoiled brat, Marcie thought to herself, feeling a wave of jealousy. It's not that she minded wearing hand-me-downs, and she understood that money was…well, it was always tight. But it didn't mean she never wished for the chance to have something that she was the first owner of.
"Oh," Marcie said in response, trying to shove these feelings of inadequacy below. "Well, that's cool. I guess."
"I'm used to it," Melody said, unfazed at the notion. "I've got cousins. My mother has a lot of sisters."
"I've got a brother," Marcie returned, following Melody's sudden, and sharp, turn up a staircase. "He's older. Sometimes he can be a real pain, but usually he's alright."
"How long have you had a brother?" Melody wondered quizzically, unsure how that fit into this situation. After everything that had occurred, it wasn't sounding so outlandish for her parents to return and tell her she had a long-lost brother as well.
Marcie shrugged, noncommittal. "Always, I guess. I was adopted as a baby."
"And you've stayed in—what's the name of your home?—ever since?"
"Amherst," Marcie supplied, her shoes squeaking on the marble steps. "It's in Nebraska. But yeah, pretty much."
"What's it like?" Melody asked, now at the top of the stairs and making a right down a long hallway.
"It's normal," Marcie intoned, dryly looking around at the expensive artwork and furniture pieces that lined this particular hallway. "There's a lot of farms. And there's not a lot of trees once you get outside of town. But since everything is flat, you can see really faraway, and sometimes at night it feels like…"
"Like what?" Melody wondered, turning slightly to her companion and realizing that Marcie appeared far away, as though she could see her home stretched out in front of her.
The redhead sighed contently, wrapping her arms around herself and saying softly, "It feels like the stars goes on forever."
"How is that a good thing?" Melody asked, perplexed at the statement. "The stars only come out at night."
"Forget it," Marcie responded, shaking her head. "You wouldn't get it."
Marcie stared up at the stars, tracing the constellations with her finger. Out at Matt's farm, she could see the stars the best, even if she was supposed to be helping him and Em pitch a tent for their backyard campout. She had copied the constellation names and places out of a science book in school, and occasionally at night studied the creased paper before falling asleep. Her science teacher once said no one knew why the stars got so close to each another and became figures in the sky. She liked to imagine that sometimes, even the loneliest stars needed a friend.
Melody frowned. The tone the redhead used was not unkind, but instead dismissive. It was as though she was implying that there was some great chasm between them because the Princess didn't understand what she meant. Which was ridiculous, because Melody felt similarly about long summer days out in the sea, when the warm waves crashed over her scales.
Still, she decided not to mention this. The girl was already dealing with a lot, what with her clear desperation to return home. One reveal was enough for today.
Instead of answering, the end of the hallway Melody pushed open a grand and imposing door. All the doors in this place seemed big, but this one especially, intricately carved with a what looked like waves and the same symbol she had on her bracelet charm, the one she had seen all over this place. Instinctively, Marcie reached for her wrist, frowning when she didn't feel the bracelet. She would have to ask them when she could get that back.
As she followed Melody into the room, Marcie found her eyes traveling up…and up…and up…following rows of books that swirled around this large tower. A set of windows were so high up that it made her dizzy, and above the windows, were even more shelves of books.
Melody was unfazed by the room. Clearly knowing what she was looking for, she went to the right side of the tower, to a series of books with gold spines just above her eye level. In all, there had to be at least 10. The dark-haired teen immediately removed the last one of the series, before eyeing the rest, as though judging their quality, before hesitantly picking out the third book too.
Both books looked to Marcie like the dusty encyclopedia's they'd found in Matt's basement. In size and in weight alone, whatever they held between their pages had to be a laundry list of things. Maybe they had more information on this In-Between?
"Well?" Melody asked, placing the books down with little care on a low coffee table surrounded by comfortable looking couches and chairs. "Don't you want to see?"
"I…" the redhead managed to squeak out, realizing she had never made it past the doorway. "There's so many books."
Melody tilted her head, blinking. She looked around the tower, as though never, in her life, having thought it was odd. "Haven't you ever seen a library?"
"Not like this," Marcie answered, almost in awe. "Is this where you have school?"
"In here?" Melody inquired, clarifying, as Marcie nodded her head. She laughed. "Of course not! There's a schoolroom, obviously."
"Yeah…obviously…" Marcie muttered, hooking her thumbs awkwardly in her pants pockets. There were a lot more rooms here than she realized. "You sure we're allowed to be in here?"
"I told you, it's fine, no one will mind," Melody waved off the girl's hesitancy, opening one of the books, it's spine making a cracking noise in the process. "Plus, you're with me, and this is my home. Mom and Dad would probably be thrilled that I'm even in here."
That caught Marcie's attention, and she studied the other girl, brows furrowed together. "How come?"
"I like swimming, not being cooped up in a stuffy library," Melody explained simply, pausing her skimming fingers on a page for a moment to look up, curious. "What do you do for fun?"
"I…" Marcie trailed off helplessly, trying to reach through her memories for something that wouldn't sound positively lame in comparison to swimming. She was, in every sense of the word, normal. She did homework, she went to school, she liked to sing along to the radio—nothing extraordinary. "Sometimes, my brother, or Caity, will drive me and my friends to the city and we load up on sweet stuff."
Marcie's ears turned red at her own words. She sounded pathetic. But really, there was nothing about her life that was outstanding. Truly, nothing about her stood out, and in high school, that was as much as anyone could ask for.
"Do you like sweet or sour candy?" Melody wondered, politely, but the curiosity still behind her words.
Marcie answered without hesitation. "Sour. The sourer, the better."
"Oh," Melody wrinkled her nose slightly, holding it up in the air delicately. "I like sweet."
"My friends like sour too," Marcie responded, a defensive edge creeping into her voice. "We buy a bunch of different types and eat each other's. Do you guys do that?"
The implication was if Melody's did the same with her own friends, but Marcie noticed the other girl seem to struggle with a reply for a moment, before sighing and switching the subject. "Do you want to see what's in here or not?"
"Yeah, I guess," Marcie said, finally, reluctantly, walking towards Melody. She took the opposite seat from the table, dragging it forward so that she could prop her elbows on the table and lean over the book. "So what's this thing about the line about…line of…uh…?"
"The line of succession," Melody answered breezily, flipping through the book so fast Marcie feared the pages would be torn right off. Finally, she stopped about three quarters of the way through. "The line of succession is the order in which a person is next in charge."
Marcie frowned. "In charge of what? A company? A farm?"
Melody twisted her lips, looking down and thinking, then slowly nodding in agreement. "I think, technically, the definition would apply in such a scenario. Where you're from, its countryside, farmland, right?"
Marcie stiffened, but nodded all the same. She was wary of her town being written off as some little farm place. "Uh-huh."
"The line of succession would, I guess, pass from a farmer to his son, to that son's son, and then to that son's son. Or daughter, I don't really think it makes a difference," Melody explained, slowly, collecting her thoughts before looking back up. "Does that make sense?"
"Yeah," Marcie returned. "It just gets passed down. My friend Matt, his family's been on their farm since forever, all the back to the pioneers."
"Right, well, that's what the whole issue is with Harmony returning," Melody said frankly. "If you turn out to really be Harmony, the line of succession is altered. Right now, my parents are in charge, and then afterwards, I am. But if something were to happen to me, or if I never had children, my father's…second cousin, twice removed, would be in charge. If you're Harmony, then you would be the one to inherit after me, before my father's cousin."
"Okay, yeah, I'm lost," Marcie admitted, pushing her glasses up her nose. "What would Harmony inherit? This house? And why is that such a big deal—you'd have it first anyway."
"I don't know why Mom and Dad didn't explain this to you," Melody muttered, mostly to herself, shaking her head. She turned the book around so that it faced Marcie, tapping on an open page with what appeared to be a flow chart. "Look at the most recent family history book. If you go back a few pages, it has pretty much everyone in my family since they took power."
"Wait, wait, wait," Marcie held out her hand to stop. "Are you telling me this whole book is just about your family history?"
"Not just this one book," Melody answered lightly, gesturing back towards the right wall and the series of similar tomes on the shelf. "All of those books. A new one is published every time someone inherits and takes over."
"But there's like, ten books over there!" Marcie answered, flabbergasted.
"Twelve, actually," Melody replied flippantly. "In reality, we're about sixteen generations in, but the first two centuries had a lot of on and off warfare, so not many records were kept."
"You must know everything about your family history," Marcie breathed, almost in a daze at the idea.
Melody pursed her lips, a slight, teenage annoyance flashing across her face. "I've had to learn a lot of it, and it's boring. Another lesson I don't want to sit through."
"It's not fair," Emma fumed, angrily biting into her fries. "She can't give you a bad grade for something like that!"
"It's fine," Marcie sighed, glumly, head resting in her arms. "I'll make it up with extra credit."
"You should talk to her, tell her that you could have lied but decided not to!" Emma replied, nearly barking out each upset word. "That's, like, a life skill! It should be worth more than half your grade!"
"You should've just lied," Matt entered the conversation simply, unpacking his lunch. "That's what I would've done. She wouldn't know."
"I would've lied if I didn't think someone would rat me out," Marcie answered, graciously taking half of the offered sandwich Matt handed to her.
"What did Adam do for his 7th grade Family History project?" Matt wondered, careful not to take a bite out of the tinfoil around his food.
Marcie shrugged. "I think he talked about his mom—our mom—Emily—you guys know what I mean, getting sick when he was five, and then the funeral."
"So why didn't you just copy him instead of saying you didn't have a project?" Emma asked, still clearly peeved.
"Em, Adam is four years older," Matt chimed in, rolling his eyes. "And people remember when Emily died. If Adam was five, then Marcie was one. She wouldn't remember any of that. It'd be a dumb lie. I would've just made up stories 'bout grandparents, or something like that."
"And asking the old man didn't work?" Emma questioned. "Not even, like, where the old photo albums are?"
"Oh, I asked, twice," Marcie responded, brushing her hair behind her ear to reveal a purple bruise down the side of her face. "He said it wasn't any of my damn business."
"Yeah," Marcie agreed, her throat raw. A small part of her wished she could tell the dark-haired girl the incredible privilege she had to access such records. There was a time in her life when Marcie would have given anything for just a slimmer. "That makes sense."
"Anyway," Melody moved on, tapping the book once more to get Marcie's attention back on it. "See how this page starts with my great grandfather?"
Marcie squinted, perhaps taking a moment longer than Melody expected, before looking up skeptically. "King Sigurd?"
"Keep following," Melody urged. "Who was he married to?"
Marcie looked closely, following the line to, "Queen…Eirene?"
"Okay, now see the line underneath them? That's their children. Follow Prince Frederic I's line, ignore the rest," Melody described, expectantly.
"Okay, so Prince Frederic I…hey! He's not a Prince anymore, they're now calling him King Frederic I. Is that normal?" Marcie asked, looking up to see Melody nod. "Alright, whatever. So he's married to Queen…Georgette?"
"And now their children?" Melody prompted.
"All that's listed is…Prince Frederic II?" Marcie frowned, tracing the line with her finger now, making sure she hadn't made a mistake. "Wait, they only had one kid? But Frederic I's parents had four!"
"King Frederic I and Queen Georgette only had one child," Melody confirmed, mildly. "Follow that line now."
"So, Prince Frederic II turns into King Frederic II…and marries Queen Ariel?" Marcie's brows pulled together, and she leaned in even closer to read. "Under King Frederic II they have a parenthesis…it says…hold on, it's tough to read cursive, and this is really small."
"Eric," Melody supplied, even without looking down. When Marcie looked at her incredulously, she gave the girl a wry smile. "I've had to use it for history class."
"Isn't that the name of your parents? Eric and Ariel?" Marcie asked, feeling like there was something just out of reach that she wasn't understanding.
Melody nodded. "Follow their line down, now."
"So, Eric and Ariel's kids are…Princess Melody? And…Princess Harmony?" Marcie recoiled at the word, scrunching up her nose in disgust. "Why all the fancy first names?"
"They're not first names, they're titles," Melody corrected.
"Like, Mr. and Mrs.?"
"More important," Melody answered, shaking her head. "The most important. In the line of succession—that's the line you just saw—they run the country. Once a King and Queen are gone, the Prince, or in my case, Princess, take over."
"So…you're saying…if only a Prince or Princess can take over…" she drew out her words, questioning if she was correct or not with every step. "That would mean if Princess Harmony is back, she could, like, potentially be in charge?"
"Yup," Melody answered, nodding her head. "And if Harmony is you, that means you bump out my father's second cousin, which makes his chances of ever being in charge practically non-existent. He'll still be in the line of succession, but he'll be third, because he's the oldest member of the extended royal family."
Marcie said nothing for a moment, returning back to the book, and following the lines once more. Melody was right; the oldest person would be considered a second cousin. As she understood it, this family tree ended at Melody because Harmony was not around, and so the next person who could possibly be around after her would have to be this second cousin.
"Why is it such a big deal to be in charge?" Marcie changed subject abruptly, looking back up at Melody. "What, you get to live here? Is that why it's so important?"
"Well, yes, technically the King and Queen would live in the palace," Melody started. "But more than that, they're in charge of everything. A whole kingdom! They can pass laws and everybody in the country has to listen to them! And they meet Kings and Queens and foreign dignitaries from all over! They can do whatever they want!"
"What if they pass something unfair? Like you can't wear anything blue?" Marcie wondered, seemingly unsure of the idea. "Where I come from, that's why we don't have a King, 'cause he passed unfair laws and the country like, decided to run things without him."
"Mom and Dad wouldn't do anything unfair," Melody responded, casually.
"But they could, couldn't they? That's why all this is so important because Harmony could be in charge of a whole, freaking, country?" Marcie felt her breath quicken, her pulse rising as she put everything together. "And that guy—the one who's not gonna be in charge? Will he be mad? I didn't mean—I didn't ask for—I'm supposed to be normal!"
"Whoa, okay, hang on, don't flip!" Melody said, leaning back in alarm. She hadn't been expecting the girl to go into such a spiral. "Maybe there's a chance you're not Harmony, and this is some big misunderstanding, right?"
Marcie's mind flashed back to the handprints. Identical handprints, fourteen years apart. A bracelet charm that matched Melody's. The same birthday, a shell-shaped birthmark on her temple recorded by the Doctor in his files…it was a lot of stacked evidence. The chances of that being wrong…but there was still a chance, still some hope. She nodded, slowly, though she could still feel her heart racing. Without meaning to, she sat up fully, rubbing her arms through the sleeve of her jacket, willing herself to calm down.
"And…if it's not?" She asked quietly, reluctantly, pushing her short red hair behind her ear.
"If it's not…" Melody hesitated, wary of sending the girl into another tizzy. "I've been a Princess all my life, it's really not so bad. I'm next in for the throne because I was born first, so the chances of Harmony ever being in charge are practically none. Plus, Dad's second cousin, Fulbert? The Duke of Groven? He's probably seventy-something, and he's not friendly, but he couldn't be mad. After all, he was never going to directly inherit the throne."
"This is so messed up," Marcie admitted, pressing a hand to her throbbing forehead. "Freshman year of high school is supposed to be different, but not like this. I wanted a top locker, not a country!"
"Do you think…" Melody began uncertainly, taking in a deep breath before rephrasing. She didn't want to be offensive, but she had to know, once and for all, what this girl's intentions were. "If the experts confirm that you're Harmony, would you consider staying? Now that you know?"
The question caught Marcie off guard, but only for a moment. She looked at Melody in surprise, answering, "'Course not. Princesses and palaces? That's dreamy fairytale stuff. The real world is so much different; who would want to give up everything for a chance at a dream?"
Melody stayed quiet, piecing out the answer. She felt torn because she believed her parents when they said that this was Harmony, her sister and a princess, who's name was written into their family, and their kingdom's, history. But the girl before her felt more like who she said she was: Marcie.
Marcie came from simple means, where the royal family lived in apalace. Marcie was unobtrusive, where the royal family was adventurous. Marcie shied away from the sea, where the royal family had ties that went far below the waves. Marcie did not believe in dreams, where the royal family had been established in its current form because of a dream.
Maybe it was cynical, but after spending the last hour with her, Melody couldn't see what her parents did. She doubted if the redheaded teen would ever fit into their family equation. She was too different, to the point where her unassuming demeanor was not at all like the royal family's. It wasn't dislike or jealousy that drove the Princess to feel this way, not after all they had talked. Frankly, if Melody had to pin it down to something, it was that the royal family and Marcie's personalities were complete opposites.
"I think I'm going to go for a swim," Melody finally said, at length, standing up. Although she knew the answer, she still politely asked, "Do you want to join?"
"Not really," Marcie intoned. She eyed the open book before her, and the one underneath, asking, "Can I, like, read through these?"
"You can read through anything, and take it with you if you wanted," Melody lazily instructed, gesturing to the circular room. "Don't get crumbs in the binding though, because they fall to the floor."
"I don't have any food."
Melody resisted an urge to roll her eyes. Right, of course the girl wouldn't understand her implication. "You can let the staff know you're hungry. The servants will let Chef Louis know, and he'll send up a tray."
"I could just get it myself," Marcie offered quickly. The prospect of a meal sounded great, but not at the cost of making someone else grab it. "I don't need anyone to go through any trouble for me."
"Do you know the way to the kitchen?" Melody wondered, her head tilt returning as she questioned the girl.
"I mean, I could figure it out if I had some directions," Marcie answered. "I'm decent with directions and, like, maps."
"I think," Melody began, nodding to herself, "That the book underneath the one you have open has the entire history on the castle, including its original plans. Maybe you should change your essay to the palace; at least it's not falling apart."
"Yeah, okay," Marcie answered, only half listening now as she pulled out the book with gentle fingers. In a while, she would grab her backpack. For now, she had to figure out how to navigate a giant place like this.
"If Mom and Dad aren't finished by dinner, I could give you a tour, show you all the places to hide and ways to sneak into the kitchen to grab a cookie," Melody offered, unsure of how else to conclude their time together.
The look she received made her think maybe it would have been better to walk away. "Are you, like, five?"
Melody's shoulders sagged, but only for a moment, as her etiquette training kicked in. She felt a forced smile split across her face, because at the end of the day, as much as she didn't think this girl would fit in…she didn't want to stick out. "That was a joke."
"Okay," Marcie said, though her tone suggested that she didn't understand.
"I'll probably see you later?" Melody said, though she even surprised herself when it came out in the form of a question.
Marcie raised one shoulder, then dropped it, her eyes now trained to opening the book before her. "I guess."
"Um…well, bye then!" Melody hurried to say, turning on her heel quickly and dashing out of the library before she twisted her tongue any further.
"Bye," Marcie mumbled, to an empty room.
Eric and Ariel were exhausted.
Happy—inexplicably happy—but exhausted.
It had been a long day, and then that long day had stretched and created an even longer night. Meeting after meeting had taken up their time, and messages from those meetings were sent out, urgently requesting the presence of others. It was a drawn out process to confirm what they had already known, and had already told the palace staff. Still, there was a degree of comfort in knowing that some sort of procedure—whether it was proper or not was up for debate, as there was no precedence for this sort of thing—had taken place and things could not be undone.
"On a scale of one to ten," Eric began, the evidence in his voice that he was tired. They were finally on their way back to bed, navigating the path from the other side of the palace with practiced ease. "How surly do you think the Duke of Groven was today?"
"Hm," Ariel replied, absently brushing her fingers through her loose hair. Once she got to their room, she wanted to collapse and sleep off the day. "Seven."
"Down from his usual nine?" Eric asked, turning slightly to her in question. She suppressed a grin; it wasn't nice to poke fun at the man's legendary grouchiness, even though his behavior invited it upon himself.
"I thought he was in a good mood today, relatively speaking," Ariel conceded, frowning slightly as she worked her fingers through a particularly difficult knot. The pain from her ribs was dull now; by tomorrow, she expected the bruising wouldn't hurt unless she directly pressed on them. "I thought he would be upset, but he seemed fine with everything."
"I don't think he looked cheered by the idea that he's now third in line for the throne," Eric responded, his tone a bit sour. The man had always rubbed him the wrong way, even as a child, there something about him Eric didn't trust.
"Well, he didn't look thrilled," Ariel acknowledged, "But even Grimsby didn't believe it was true, with the experts' verifications, until he saw for himself. I think everyone was trying to be extra cautious; there's no room for error with this sort of thing."
"At least the Royal Council all concurs, for once," Eric sighed, rolling out his shoulders, as though the day would fall off them. "That's an achievement."
Ariel nodded. "And tomorrow, the proclamations will be posted throughout the kingdom, making everything…"
"Official?" Eric offered, and Ariel nodded again. He smiled wearily. "Fourteen years wiped away with a single document."
"At least it's over," Ariel replied, though whether she was referring to the meetings or the past decade was purposely vague. She looked down at her wrapped wrist, which was covered by the long sleeves of her dress to avoid unnecessary questions, saying "I'm ready to move on."
"Agreed," Eric answered, covering a yawn with his hand and stealing a look at a nearby clock. Candles had been lit in various places along the hallway, marking a path. "Can we do that tomorrow though? I'm exhausted."
Ariel laughed, patting his arm comfortingly. "Yes, definitely."
"Should we check up on Melody? See if she hasn't snuck out to go for a night-swim?" Eric wondered, changing the topic.
Ariel considered the idea for a moment, before answering, "Honestly, I think its best if we assume she's in her room. I don't think I can wait up long enough for her to be caught trying to sneak back in. The Captain would tell us anyway in the morning."
"True," Eric conceded. "Think she realizes she's not exactly stealthy?"
"No," Ariel shook her head, smiling ruefully. "I never did. I honestly thought I got away with sneaking out every time until Attina told me last year that was not the case at all. Apparently, Daddy almost always knew."
"Well, then Melody got that from you," Eric mentioned, chuckling. "I never got caught."
Ariel scoffed. "Oh, please. Just because you weren't "caught" doesn't mean the guards didn't know and weren't watching. Your parents probably thought it was safer to let you believe you had that freedom, like we do with Melody, and like Daddy did with me."
"Sounds like you're jealous, darling," he replied, earning a derisive noise from his wife. He grinned, then acquiesced, saying, "I slipped out so many times, I should have known there was a reason the guards never seemed to notice. The castle's security could never have possibly been that bad."
"Unfortunately, it only took us being parents to come to that conclusion," Ariel said, giving a dramatic sigh. "But, the good thing is that the cycle seems to repeat itself, and one day it will be Melody's turn."
"And we'll laugh?"
"Oh, we'll do so much more than that," Ariel said brightly, turning to climb up a staircase. "We'll ask her what did she think? And then we'll say 'I-told-you…"
She trailed off once again, this time because leaning against the wall, a book in her lap, was a person. Underneath a candlelight fixture, it was clear that she was asleep, her bag of books half open beside her. A young, redheaded teenager, snoozing under the candlelight.
"Why did she end up here?" Eric wondered, puzzled by the girl's presence. "The guest wing is back that way."
"I'm not sure," Ariel answered, biting her lip in worry. "I hope she wasn't looking for us?"
"If there'd been an emergency, we would have known," Eric responded. He noticed the large tome in her lap, open as though she had fallen asleep reading it, and leaned down to gently extricate the book.
The second the volume started to move, an arm slammed down on top of it. Eric drew back, startled. His ice blue eyes connected with an identical pair, which suddenly were wide-open behind askew glasses.
Then, in an instant, the teenager blinked, relaxing her safeguarding posture. It was an involuntary sign that she trusted these people would not hurt her. Eric noticed it and marveled how things could change in just a few days.
Marcie rubbed at her eyes, adjusting her glasses and blinking a few more times for the figures to become clear. She realized she had fallen asleep on a staircase, and her ears went as red as her hair. "Uh, hi?"
"Hi," Ariel answered, upbeat, but still hesitant. Last night had dissolved into a shouting match, and she wasn't sure where the teenager stood on the issue. She gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "Fell asleep?"
"I guess," Marcie answered, wincing as she arched her back.
"What were you doing, reading on the staircase?" Eric wondered, concern marking his tone.
Marcie looked down to the book in her lap, defending herself quickly, almost alarmed now. "Melody said I could take books out of the library!"
"And that's true," Ariel answered quickly, trying to get ahead of the girl's possible defensiveness. "But you could have taken the book to the guest room to read. You don't have to stay near the library."
Marcie's face remained flushed, her gaze still trained to the book. "I, um, was reading it in the library. But then the sun went down, and I couldn't find the light switch. So I came out here to read."
"If you needed help finding light," Eric began, eyes flickering upwards towards the fixture. "You should have asked. Someone would have given you a candle."
"'S not a big deal," Marcie replied, uncomfortably shifting. "I always figure it out."
Ariel appeared to want to argue the point, to urge the girl that the servants were there to help her, but Eric pressed on, asking, "What are you reading?"
The girl bit her lip, worried. She wasn't sure how they would react to her choice of story. She debated picking up the book and running away, but realized just as quickly that the last time she had tried something similar, she had been intercepted, hands roped behind her back and dragged in front of them.
Reluctantly, she raised the book, propping the large tome on her lap so that they could read the spine. Still, showing them the book didn't mean she had to take credit for taking it. "It was Melody's idea."
Both adults exchanged a look, clearly reading the spine and knowing what its implications were. At length, Ariel took in a breath, asking, evenly, "Why would Melody show you one of the family history books?"
"She said I should know about the line of succession," Marcie answered, grimacing, eyes flitting up for a moment in worry, before looking back down quickly. "You know, 'cause that's why you guys were meeting with experts today. It's important to know for sure, 'cause this line of succession thing is a big deal."
"Who told you we were meeting with experts?" Eric responded, raising a single brow in question.
"Melody," Marcie replied, her gaze traveling up once again in concern, rushing to say, "But you guys shouldn't be mad at her! All this stuff just came up, it's really my fault for, like, asking what she meant, she was just trying to let me know! Least, I think that's what she was doing."
"No one is mad," Ariel supplied swiftly, though she decided not to mention that she was, in the very least, annoyed that her dark-haired daughter had clearly been eavesdropping. "And yes, we did meet with experts today about the handprints."
Marcie's eyes lifted, flitting between both adults, her voice small, but hopeful. "Yeah?"
"They confirmed the two sets of prints were identical, and taken with all the other evidence…" Eric didn't want to finish, but in a gut-wrenching way, knew he had to say it aloud, "You are our daughter, Harmony."
"Oh," Marcie answered, having figured as much, but surprised to find that it didn't hurt any less. She sighed, her shoulders dropping, and her eyes going back down to her shoes. "And they're really sure?"
"Both experts agreed. They said they'd never been so positive before." Eric answered, watching for an outburst of emotion, but receiving none. Unsure, he hesitantly asked, "Is that…I know it's a lot to process, but are you alright?"
Marcie stayed quiet. She shouldn't have felt so let-down. After all, she'd known the possibilities were slim to none. But before today, before she understood what was riding on this, it hadn't seemed real.
And she certainly didn't feel any different. She still felt like Marcie. The longer she stayed here, would that change? Would she turn into the daughter they'd been hoping would return for so long?
"Did you guys figure out the In-Between?" Marcie answered his question with one of her own. Her voice wasn't upset, but rather, drained. It was like the fight had been extinguished in her. "Can I go home tomorrow?"
"We're working on it," Ariel lied, pushing down the feelings of guilt and brushing past the question to avoid being anymore untruthful. "What else did Melody tell you?"
"Nothing I couldn't look up," Marcie replied, grip tightening slightly on the book in her lap. "Figured out the line of succession."
"And?"
Ariel watched the girl carefully for a reaction, heart in her ears. Her mind raced, trying to decide what the teen would say, and what she would respond with. Clearly this had been a discussion that they had put off, for the time being, and hadn't considered that it would be Melody who would tell the girl.
"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, clearly having considered this during the day and frustrated that it had been kept from her. "It's not just you guys. It's a whole country."
"We didn't want to overwhelm you," Ariel countered, honestly. She frowned. "The last few days have been a lot on…all of us, really. That aspect is…well, it's complicated."
"Don't seem that complicated to me," Marcie retorted shortly, holding up the large book slightly. "Melody said you guys are sixteen generations in; that's hundreds of years your family has been in charge. One person dies, next person in your family runs the show."
"That's true," Eric recognized. "I mean, essentially, that's what a monarchy is."
Marcie nodded in agreement. "Right. So then if you guys die, and then if Melody dies without kids, Harmony is in charge. Why's that so complicated?"
Eric and Ariel exchanged another look. Essentially, the girl was right, at its heart the subject wasn't difficult to comprehend. In practicality, however, it was much different. A Prince or Princess's role was critical to a monarchy—it was a symbol of what the future always held. For the elite, it was a comforting reminder of the status quo. For the working class, a bridge to their monarchs, someone to lend an ear and champion their causes. It was a position that carried immense responsibility, learning how to uphold the rigorous standards of the monarchy while eyes are always upon you.
But how were they supposed to say all that?
"Let's talk about this tomorrow," Eric answered, figuring that by then either the girl would have moved past the complex subject or he might have a better idea how to explain it. "It's late, we should all get to bed."
Marcie appeared unconvinced, as though she sensed there was something they weren't telling her, but still saying, "I'm gonna stay here and keep reading."
Eric quirked an eyebrow at the notion. "You were asleep a few minutes ago, aren't you tired?"
"Yeah, but, I'm okay now," Marcie answered, rolling back her shoulders determinably. "Besides, I got distracted and haven't even finished my essay for history class yet because you guys still have my book. I should get it done before I get home."
"You could sleep now and work on it tomorrow," Ariel suggested, forcing her voice to remain light. "You shouldn't be staying up all night to do homework anyway."
"Try telling my teachers that," Marcie snorted, ice blue eyes annoyed as she pushed up her glasses again. Her fingers fiddled with the edge of the sleeve, thoughtful in her analysis. "It's like, you get to high school, and suddenly the homework just doubles and if you fall behind, you're totally screwed."
This time, Ariel noticed the stitching in the sleeve the girl was playing with was looking frayed, about ready to become a hole. Actually, the more Ariel thought about it, the more she realized the girl's clothes looked extra wrinkled and worn, as though the teenager had been in them for days.
With a pang, Ariel realized that's exactly what had happened.
How could she have missed this? Had the girl even been offered a bath in the past few days? Clean clothes? A brush? Years ago, as a supposed shipwreck survivor, the now queen had been treated to every kindness and amenity the palace could offer. And when she'd had the opportunity to pay it forward...Ariel had been derelict in her duty.
She recalled that Melody had a fitting in two days for a new ball gown. Surely it wouldn't be difficult to tack the redheaded teenager onto that appointment as well. After all, she was a princess now: she should be dressed like one. In the meantime, Melody's clothes might be a bit big, but at least they would be fresh.
"You won't fall behind because you got a good night's sleep," Eric pointed out, arching a brow at the idea, shaking Ariel out of her musings.
Marcie made a face. "I don't sleep good, too much stress."
"You don't sleep well," Eric corrected, absently, before saying, "You're fourteen, what do you have to be stressed about?"
Marcie could hear the game downstairs. She could hear the yelling. She could hear bottles clanking. She swallowed hard, and reached for the volume knob on her radio, turning it up one more notch. She hugged her pillow close to her chest, and closed her eyes.
"…throws the ball for Nebraska and—intercepted! Interception by Oklahoma! Oklahoma running the ball and—touchdown! Touchdown Oklahoma!"
A roar of anger echoed through the house.
Marcie looked at him, before looking back down to the book in her lap. She bit her lip; she had momentarily slipped. She had to be smarter if she ever wanted to get back to her real life. "Never mind."
Eric sighed. There it was again, the unwillingness to move anymore on a topic. It had taken less than three days to fall for Ariel, to see how she wore her heart on her sleeve. Even when she had no voice he had managed to understand her.
Three days with his long-lost-teenage-daughter and Eric felt like he had gotten nowhere. Sure, there were bits and pieces she discussed about her life—friends, family, school, but never anything substantial. The only vulnerability in her armor was her need to return home.
"Either way," Ariel jumped back into the conversation, having resolved to change the subject to avoid an argument like the one the night before. "Once morning comes, everything gets hectic. You don't want to be woken up by everyone coming up and down the stairs, do you?"
Marcie mulled the idea over for a moment, before shrugging, acknowledging, "I guess not."
"We could walk you to your room?" Ariel offered, quickly seizing on the moment. "I know everything here is big and it can be confusing to navigate but—"
"Nah, don't worry." Marcie brushed off the suggestion, hesitantly pulling out a paper from where it had been shoved into her jacket pocket. "One of the books talked about how this place was built, so I made a map."
Eric leaned in, interested in the doodles that were labeled, and the arrows that showed carefully laid out hallways leading into certain places. It had all been written in what appeared to be graphite, some of it erased, and then written over.
"Resourceful," he said, slightly impressed at the amount of detail the girl had managed to squeeze into one lined paper. "It seems like you have everything on there."
"Gotta do what you gotta do, right?" Marcie answered, getting up, and grabbing her backpack with her. She frowned at the book, before deciding to hold onto it. They had said she could take it back with her. "Guess I'll see you guys tomorrow? And you'll let me know where you're at with the In-Between stuff?"
"Of course," Ariel agreed, her voice gentle, placating even. There was no evidence in her tone or blue eyes that said she had no intention of even looking at the In-Between.
"We'll let you know," Eric agreed, tilting his head slightly. "Don't be spooked if you see the guards. They'll be on nightly patrols by now."
"Okay," Marcie said, uneasily. She didn't want to run into that Captain guy again. "Uh…well, see ya, I guess?"
"See you tomorrow," Eric answered, his smile tight and eyebrows creased with worry as the girl pushed past the two of them, head down and focused on her map. Once she was out of view and earshot, his shoulders collapsed under the weight of it all.
He turned to Ariel, who had pressed two fingers against her forehead, as though she felt a migraine coming on. "How are we going to tell her that after tomorrow, her life will change completely?"
"I don't know," Ariel sighed, eyes closed and answering, "That's a tomorrow problem."
Disclaimer: Ariel, Eric, Melody, etc. and the setting for this story are from The Little Mermaid, which is property of Disney. I own nothing; everything represented from the film(s), tv series, etc. is/are the property of Disney. Other characters are from my own imagination and are not associated with Disney.