Бесплатный фрагмент - Lilophea, the Bride of the Sea King

Pearls and peacock

“Don’t trust the waterman, princess!

He’ll drag you to the bottom of the sea.

And no one can escape from there.”

A blue peacock flew over the rose bushes. Lilothea could see it among the white peacocks that filled the palace grounds. It seemed to have come from some distant overseas kingdom whose ruler had recently wooed her. Many thought his proposal tempting because of the generous gifts brought by the ambassadors and the prospect of an alliance with the strongest power, but the king was in no hurry to agree. The obstacle lay in the customs of a distant country. Instead of one wife the ruler had a harem.

The council of ministers over the plans for her marriage had been going on for quite some time, and Lilothea herself was walking in the garden trying to determine who was singing? No one normally walked in this part of the garden except her. Here was her secret corner with a fountain and a marvelous rose garden. And she didn’t want to leave here to join a harem or even become the only wife of a foreign king, either.

Her stubborn father was going to arrange her marriage exclusively to a king, or at least a crown prince: no more, no less. And someone’s sweet voice in the garden hummed about the dangers of a relationship with a waterman. To think! Where did anyone ever see watermen? It was all fairy tales!

Lilothea took a closer look at the peacock soaring above the bushes. Was there really a tiny jewel attached to the bird’s crest, or was it just the play of sunlight?

“Don’t trust the waterman!” Again the wonderful voice sang. “You don’t know yet how treacherous the Water Lords are.”

Lilophea defiantly straightened the hem of her turquoise dress. She loved all shades of water. Her blue brocade costume with flounces of white lace evoked the waves of the sea.

“I’m not afraid of water!” She muttered aloud, tired of looking for the singer who was hiding in such a secluded corner of the garden that he could not be found. “And I also like the element of water. The water surface is beautiful and so are the waves on it. And if in the abyss of water live some spirits as beautiful as water, then I willingly invite them into the palace.”

“You are a silly girl!” A sweet voice sang, and a blue peacock sank gently to the edge of the tiered fountain in the rose garden.

Could it be that he was singing? It couldn’t be! Lilophea exhaled noisily. Peacocks have ugly voices. And certainly they have not human voices. But this peacock was special in every way.

“Were you singing?” It still sounded fantastic to her, though the peacock tilted its head in agreement.

“I thought there was a troubadour hiding here.”

“I can be one for you,” the peacock was polite, but he’d just called her a fool.

“Did you say I was silly?”

“You wouldn’t call an executioner to behead me for that.”

“More like a cook with a knife.”

“Don’t joke like that, Your Highness.”

“So you really think I’m naive?”

“You are more like inexperienced,” he corrected her gently. “You don’t know that watermen are not to be trifled with.”

“I don’t know any watermen at all.”

“Would you like to meet any?”

“I do.”

“It is dangerous.”

Lilothea noticed that the water in the fountain was vibrating strangely. It reeked of cold. The jets seemed about to freeze into ice.

“This is all nonsense,” she yanked back the train that caught on the fountain’s edge stucco. “The watermen are fictitious.”

“And what is about talking peacocks?”

“Well, I can see you, but I can’t see a waterman.”

“Don’t make any promises! And never invite them to the palace.”

“But I already have!”

The peacock opened its beak and never closed it. There was something in the fountain, as if a big fish had got in. Someone’s wet footprints were left on the grass, as if someone had stepped out of the fountain. Droplets of water on the curb dripped together and began to take the shape of letters.

“I’m coming,” Lilophea read. “Is this all your tricks, you talking peacock? You know what they do to those who know magic tricks.”

“They put them in a cage and require them to tell fortunes,” the peacock finished grimly.

“It is true, but I won’t tell anyone you’re a talker. The main thing is not to give your away. I do not want you to be put in a cage. I like you very much!”

She gently touched the stone in his forehead with her fingers. It was growing right into the plumage. Wonderful! Is it an opal? Is it a carbuncle? Is it a third eye?

The peacock twitched with pleasure at her touch, like a dove in love.

“In no country in the world have I seen princesses as beautiful as you?”

“And you have been in many countries?”

“I can’t count. There are daughters or wives of rulers everywhere, but not like you. You’re not a fairy by any chance, are you?”

No one’s ever asked her anything like that before. But she’d never seen a talking bird before, either.

“Have you seen how they live in countries where the rulers have harems?”

“Oh, it’s not very comfortable for women.”

Lilothea was upset, but didn’t want to show it to him.

“And have you seen how the water women live on the seabed?” She joked.

“Don’t even ask, princess,” the peacock turned gloomy. Even the glittering stone in his forehead faded to black. It turned out that the stone could change color. More miracles! Today is the day of miracles! And it’s not even her birthday.

“But there’s still a present for you!” A harsh, husky voice said behind her. Someone had touched her waist with a cold, wet hand. Could it be that the Sultan from a distant country himself had come to ask for marriage? The ambassadors were not enough?

Lilothea turned around. It was no one. And on the edge of the fountain stood a chest filled with sparkling jewels, glistening with rainbow colors. There are pearl necklaces, earrings, rings, tiaras, even a crown of gold and large pearls. A delighted Lilothea stretched out her hand to him.

“Stop it! Don’t touch!” The peacock wailed.

“Why is that?” She was furious and suddenly noticed that her corset was soaked with moisture. Whoever had touched her, as if he were made of water? The dress was getting very wet. The smell of lilies hung in her secret garden, so persistent that it overpowered even the fragrance of roses.

Spit on the bird’s opinion. Lilothea took the crown from the chest and tried it on. How nice to feel it on her forehead. Only the narrow corolla pressed a little. Immediately visions hit her head: the waters of the sea, lilies and water lilies swaying on the waves, ships entangled in their stems and going to the bottom. Beautiful women with fish tails are dragged from the shore by guys who have come to the coast for fortune telling. Large pearls roll along the bottom of the sea depths, piling up into whole pyramids. And on the coral throne sits someone. She couldn’t see his face, but a voice above her ear whispered:

“I can show you so much more. There are so many wonders under the water! You have no idea!”

Lilophea unconsciously stretched out her hand to touch the speaker, but felt nothing but water. Meanwhile, the peacock suddenly flew up and snatched the crown from her head with its claws. The visions were immediately interrupted. The crown of pearls fell on the grass, and the peacock could not catch its breath. The burden was obviously too heavy for him.

“That’s it! Don’t put them on again!” He said in an admonishing tone. Or rather, commanded. That’s what you call it! Lilophea was furious.

“You’re like a duenna.”

“I am a bird,” he corrected her. Apparently he didn’t know what a duenna was. “I’m a magic bird!” He pointed out proudly. “So says everyone I meet intimately.”

“And no one’s ever called you a talking parrot?”

The peacock cawed unkindly, realizing the catch. Well, sometimes he doesn’t sound so sweet.

“You know pearls are dead stone,” he explained.

“How is it?”

“A pearl is a hard growth inside a soft, living oyster. Sometimes it is plucked out by force, and it dies. Do you want to die like that?”

“I do not have pearls growing inside me,” she reasonably objected. “There is nothing to be taken from me.”

“It is except your living heart.”

“I have heard it can be torn only in a figurative sense.”

“It is not always. Sometimes the water is hotter than the blood.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t wear pearls. The souls of dead oysters live in them. They are even worse than the souls of dead drowned women. They will give you no rest.”

“I don’t believe it!” The visions that flashed before her were beautiful, not horrible. But suddenly it was only so at first. She tried to imagine the drowned women and the pearls in their place of hearts, eyes, and tongues. What kind of fantasy is that?

A peacock circled above her head, feathering its tail, which suddenly had green and purple feathers. Could the bird be bewitched? Lilothea immediately dismissed the thought. She had already seen talking parrots in the king’s birdhouse. Of course, a peacock is not a parrot and should not talk, according to the common opinion. But what if it is some special rare species, which was brought from overseas countries? Parrots are not all talking either, probably among peacocks there is a particularly rare species. Probably, in the state where the sultan who wooed her ruled, such birds were considered the most common. Lilothea even suspected that he deliberately sent a talking peacock to her as a gift, so that the bird would sing his best qualities to the future bride. But the peacock coped with the task in a very unusual way. He only sang about some water spirits that could not be trusted and could not be seen nearby.

“Don’t trust the water spirits!” He sang again like a maniac. Was that the only song he had learned while he was being whipped across the sea? Then no wonder he sings only about watermen, for they are the only legends one hears on the sea voyage. Watermen, mermaids, newts, chamois, krakens — she could no longer remember all the names named by the famous sailors and privateers who had sworn allegiance to her father in the great throne room of the palace. But even they, as impertinent as they were, did not intimidate anyone with a dangerous acquaintance with a waterman.

Lilophea was suddenly reminded of a young privateer who had presented her with a large pearl. That had been a year ago. He assured her that he could speak to the spirits of the sea. Once these same spirits called him from the coast late at night, he left to talk to them, and never came back. Lilophea wanted to believe that he had sailed off with smugglers or pirates in search of adventure, rather than drowned in the abyss. She kept his pearl as a memento, having stolen it from her father’s treasury, where it was customary to keep all the gifts sent to the king and his family by the petitioners. And that young man was a petitioner. He had asked for his own ship and crew, but he was gone. All that was left was his gift.

Only the pearls in the chest were better. Lilothea suddenly felt a cold, wet hand wrapped around her waist again. A new wet trail stretched across the grass.

“All the wonders of the depths are a gift for the most beautiful,” someone whispered in her ear.

The peacock, meanwhile, was floating above the fountain’s jets, unaware of anything. When he looked down, he groaned, and someone in the meantime slipped into the fountain. Lilothea didn’t even know if someone was really there, or if it was all imagination. She was dreaming. The midday sun was burning very brightly, and the tracks on the grass did not dry.

The princess took the casket in her hands. It was very heavy and cold. It wasn’t warm at all in the sun.

“Pearls are the symbol of death,” the peacock repeated. “I would be wary of lugging them up to my chambers. You might bring a ghost with them.”

“Are they the ghosts of drowned women or oysters?” The princess jokingly asked.

“It is both,” the scholarly peacock answered in all seriousness.

“Do not caw!” She shushed him, and the luxurious bird closed its beak angrily. The peacock clearly did not like that he was compared to the usual crows.

“I never cawed in my life,” he sobbed.

“Pity, if you’ve learned to speak human, you’d do well to learn the languages of all the birds and beasts. You could be my court interpreter.”

“That’s not a bad idea!” He scratched his forehead with the tip of his wing. “It’s worth a try.”

Lilophea didn’t laugh at him right away. Who knew what his abilities were. She only wished the peacock was a porter. How convenient it would be now to have at least a pony to carry the chest to the royal chambers. Leaving it on the fountain and calling the servants was not at all desirable. Firstly, it would have to explain to them where it came from and who brought it, and she did not know it herself. And secondly, it might disappear as suddenly as it appeared while she was walking back and forth. Lilothea could hardly drag the heavy gift from who knows who, and the pearls in the chest exuded a watery coolness and brought to mind thoughts of mermaids and sea ghosts.

Blue Seneschal

The gift pearl, given to her by a vanished privateer, shone in the dried shell that replaced the casket. It was very beautiful, but there were no visions when she touched it. Lilothea stroked it with her fingers for a long time, but nothing happened.

The peacock, meanwhile, circled around the princess’s apartments and busily looked around every room. He evidently liked the canopy of the tent-like canopy over the bed, for he could make his nest there. The wide bed itself, with its satin cushions, did not impress him, nor did the exquisite furniture. Even his own reflection in the oval mirror on the dressing table didn’t impress him much. He grunted contemptuously at the wash basin, made in the shape of a basin supported by mermaids.

“It’s not very luxurious,” he finally said.

Well, that’s a blatant lie! Her chambers were the most beautiful in the palace. She nearly opened her mouth to say so, but the peacock went on:

“Even concubines have better rooms in a harem.”

So that’s it! He must have been sent by the sultan to convince her that everything in his country was more beautiful and richer than in her father’s humble island kingdom.

That’s what she’d suspected from the start. It was very timely that the peacock appeared in the palace garden. As if the eastern ambassadors had brought it with them and released it on purpose, so that it would find the princess, meet her, and begin to persuade her. Everything is subtly calculated. You can’t believe a man, no matter how convincingly he speaks, but a talking peacock is such a miracle that you start to get a little confused in his presence, you become amazed and trusting. After all, if the bird speaks human language, then there are miracles in the world after all. And this bird also has a voice so well put, as if he was trained to sing and babble on purpose. What a pity the sultan did not think to send this bird to Lilophea’s father. He, as the ruler of a country where no one listens to the opinion of girls, should have understood that nothing depends on the princess’ decision. Even if the peacock will talk to her so that she will dream of going to the harem and even beg her father to let her go there, still the king and his advisers have the final word. It is for them alone to decide whom the princess will marry.

“Did you sing as sweetly for the Sultan as you did for me?” Lilophea inquired as if incidentally. “Did you also advise him not to invite mermaids into his harem, because it is dangerous to communicate with them?”

“What do you mean?” The peacock didn’t give himself away. What an actor! “Would they teach me anything? They wouldn’t even give me any fruit when I sang under the window. Amazingly insensitive people! They have splendid palaces, but they won’t let a talking bird into any of them.”

“Why? Don’t they value rare species?”

“That’s not the point,” the peacock deftly picked a grape from the fruit bowl with its beak, and only continued when it ate it greedily. He appeared to be hungry.

“There is great fear in eastern countries of spies sent from the sea. And I am blue, the color of the sea. And the stone in my forehead shimmers with all the shades of water.”

“Are there spies from the sea?! What does that mean?”

“Well,” said the peacock, uncertain how to avoid the embarrassing subject. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Well, now go on. Why be embarrassed?”

He ate a few more berries, grunted softly, and then shifted his gaze to the pearl in the dried out shell flaps.

“You don’t have to look out of the window at the sea. There’s so much going on in the sea. I saw all sorts of terrible things while I was hiding in the masts of the ship on which I sailed as a stowaway.”

Lilothea laughed involuntarily. What a pun it turns out!

“By the way, I thought the ship sailed to another kingdom, and ended up here. Bad luck!”

“You will know how not to pay the fare!” She joked. I should have added that he deserved it, and that he who wants to deceive others in the end remains deceived himself, but she was not cruel. It’s the maidens at court who like to let the stilettos go. The peacock will never get enough of them, and will probably pretend to be dumb so as not to have to answer their taunts.

“Do you think that if I brought a coin to the sailors they’d tell me exactly where the ship was going?” The peacock showed unexpected seriousness.

What could you say to that?

“I don’t think so,” Lilophea answered honestly. “They would have taken the coin, and you would probably have been caged and sold at the first port.”

“You see, I might not have been honest.” He spread his wings in triumph and ate almost all the grapes from the vase. What a glutton!

“Travelling alone is dangerous in any case,” Lilophea consoled him. “It is better to sail the ship only with the mistress.”

“Well, I’ve managed to get out of it, now you can always be my mistress.”

What does that mean? He thought of himself as master here and her as servant? Or is he her best friend now? You can’t be mistress to a friend. It’s not like he’s a pet. The peacock had indeed chosen her for himself. He wasn’t bought. He wasn’t brought as a gift. He flew up to her in the garden and made conversation. That’s what everyone who wants to make friends does.

“I’ll consider you my faithful cavalier,” Lilofephea suggested aloud. “By the way, do you have a name? Or should I call you something.”

It’s not nice to call him just a peacock, like all the other birds in the garden that don’t know human speech. A talking creature, however feathered, deserves to be addressed by all the rules.

“I am Seneschal,” he bowed respectfully. Lilophea had no idea that a peacock could bend its neck so low. He could at least be applauded. Had he escaped from the circus? The princess sometimes heard rumors of cruel trainers, from whom it was not easy to buy back rare but offended animals. A peacock with his talents could bend the bars of a cage and escape on his own.

“There is already one seneschal in the palace. That’s what they call the chief of staff,” Lilophea hesitated.

“For him it is a title, but for me it is a name. Though, to tell the truth,” the peacock looked conspiratorial. “I was in charge of the servants in the house of a great sorceress for some time.”

Lilophea grinned incredulously.

“Enchantresses and rogues are practically the same thing.”

“What do you know, girl?”

“I am guided by my experience at court.”

“This isn’t the court to learn anything.”

“But you got here somehow. Which means there’s already something unique here — a chatty peacock!”

“I’m the most worthy creature here,” he arrogantly cocked his beak. Lilophea gazed for a moment at the stone glinting in his forehead. She wondered if it hurt him, made him feel uncomfortable with the hard jewelry growing in his forehead. Even her own tiara was starting to press on her head if she wore it too long. All jewelry should be removed before going to bed so it wouldn’t leave a mark on the delicate skin. That’s what the ladies-in-waiting used to say.

Lilophea remembered the crown. She longed unbearably to try it on again, but the blue peacock looked behind the chest like a spy. It seemed that if she took anything from there, and he pecked her in the finger. Of the chest there was a wet puddle on the malachite table. There was no place for it to come from, for the jug and the basin for her morning bath were in another room. There was water inside the jewels themselves. But how could it have flowed through the hard casket. There was an icy chill coming from the water. It felt like a draught in her chambers, though the day was very hot. All the ladies at court were waving their fans vigorously. Suddenly there was an underwater chill in the princess’ apartments. Lilophea noticed that in a puddle on the table bloomed most real water lily. What a miracle!

She must send the peacock away on some errand while she looks around and tries on all the pearl adornments.

“So you are Seneschal,” she smiled at him. “I’ll call you that if you like. Do not present yourself as so to the other courtiers, or you will be confused with the head of the household. He might think you are making fun of him and tease you.”

“Let him try it,” the peacock hummed haughtily. Apparently, he’d never been chased by a cook’s knife before. But Lilophea had once seen a swan roasted for a feast, and the sight made her sick. How can you make a feast of a beautiful bird? People can be so cruel sometimes.

“You love waterfowl! You have a good heart! You have a water heart! Come to me! Come into the sea!”

Who said that? It was certainly not the peacock. His insolent bird voice is not capable of whispering with such inspiration.

“I’ll tell you what,” Lilophea opened her writing bag. “Take a couple of letters for me.”

“I’m not a messenger,” the peacock grunted.

She scribbled a few lines on two sheets of paper, sealed them with the Royal Seal, and handed them to Seneschal. “Here, one is for the cook, let him not cook birds yet, better let him treat the ambassadors with fish and crabs from the local coast.”

Here the peacock understood her and nodded sternly.

“It is no birds to eat,” he agreed and clutched the envelope in his beak.

“Can you find your own way?”

He nodded again.

“And the second letter is for my father’s honored guest. He is coming today. He is the famous navigator and privateer. You know what that is.”

Peacock dropped the envelope on the table for a moment.

“Capering is legalized piracy, with the profits from the plunder paid to the crown,” he resented. “Capers are sneaky, sneaky fellows, to think of such a thing. Stay away from them.”

“This fellow’s not bad. He is quite a charming little rascal. His name is Morrin.

He’s quite handsome. He has brown hair and brown eyes. He’s tall. He prefers to wear green caftans. In his left ear is an earring with an emerald in the shape of a drop.”

“And you want me to give him a love letter.”

“It is not a love letter. I want him to do me a favor and find out something for me.”

“Well, all right,” the peacock took both envelopes in its beak and finally flew away.

Lilophea waited until his trail had gone cold outside the window, and then she rushed to measure the jewelry. Bracelets, necklaces, rings, beads — she strung a whole row of them on herself. How beautifully the pearls had transformed her outfit. She became like a sea queen. The twisted-frame mirror on the wall even flattered her. It showed not an ordinary princess, but as if a goddess from the depths of the ocean.

In five minutes Lilophea managed to try on everything but the intricate pearl pendants, with their many pendants and drops that must fall on her forehead. There was only room on her head for one piece of jewelry — a crown. For some reason she liked it best. As soon as the crown of the sea pressed on her forehead again, a succession of visions akin to daydreams came back into her mind. All these dreams were of an underwater kingdom, of water flowing between lilies and of incredible underwater creatures.

She even closed her eyelids with pleasure. It seemed to her that the mirror had become a waterfall. All she had to do was stretch out her hand and touch the stream. There was something sparkling in the water. They were pebbles of some kind, colorful as a rainbow. The waterfall runs down the rocks and flows into the river. Unusual creatures with green curls and pearls instead of noses float in the river. A tender music spreads over the water flow. The melody is mesmerizing, depriving you of your ability to think straight. Lilothea walks forward and sees the one who is playing. The musician wears a heavy crown with pendants of coral. It is made in the shape of gills. So unusual! He also has gilded wings in his back. They grow straight out of the bluish skin. Or is it the clothes he’s wearing that are azure? She wants to touch him with her hand, but she does not dare. He turns around himself. The musical instrument that made such marvelous sounds turns out to be nothing more than a shell into which he blew like a horn. Out of the shell pours sparkling water. What she thought were wings and crowns are actually gills. They grow right out of his skin. He is not human!

Lilophea awoke when the blue hand closed around her wrist. The peacock had interfered again.

“Don’t sleep, silly,” yelled the Seneschal, who had already delivered the letters and returned. “You might not wake up at all.”

“And I don’t want to!” Why had he plucked her from such a beautiful vision? Yes, it was a little scary, but it felt good, too. How to go back to that dream? The mirror on the wall still reflected a waterfall of iridescent pebbles, but the musician was no longer on the shore. Soon that vision, too, faded like an illusion.

The peacock was already busily packing the jewels back into the casket.

“We must throw it all back into the sea!”

“Don’t dare!” Lilophea shouted at him.

“You will fall asleep in your wonderful crown and what shall I do? I will be thrown out of the palace or given as a snack to the ambassadors.”

“You’ll go back to the great sorceress you served.”

“You know how far it is! And it’s dangerous without an escort. The first privateers like your friend will catch me and sell me into slavery.”

He complained as a merchant who was anxious to have his goods shipped by sea, or as an old courtier who feared he would set sail for a long journey to see his family far off in the world. And this is all coming from a bird! Seneschal must be repeating, like a parrot, what he has heard from his former masters. He wouldn’t have thought of it himself with his tiny peacock head.

“Your old mistress must not have loved you too much to try to bring you back. With her great charms, all she could do was wave her magic wand if she missed you.”

“Oh, what do you know?” The peacock brushed her off.

Lilophea suspected that he had been taken from his old duty station in a cage and with his beak tied up, because he was boring his mistress with his chatter.

I wonder how quickly he would bore her herself to the point where she would start begging her father to sell him? Lilophea was usually patient. She wasn’t easily driven out of her mind. But even she was beginning to think about giving the chatterbox to Morrin.

“By the way, your handsome caper is already hanging around the gallery waiting for you,” the peacock for some reason decided to report this only now, and not immediately when he flew in. “Indeed, a handsome fellow, and what is phenomenal these days, polite!”

“Which gallery is it?” Lilophea was worried. “There are many in the palace.”

“That one is overlooking the sea. There’s only one. All the others face the gardens or the inner courtyards.”

“Thank you for telling me now. You could have waited another hour for him to leave.”

“He won’t,” said Seneschal defiantly. “The boy is very much in love with you. I’m even beginning to respect you, seeing how cleverly you keep young men on the hook.”

“Stop talking!”

“He not only thanked me, he even bowed to me to thank me for delivering your letter to him,” said Seneschal.

Let him talk, Lilophea decided. As long as he keeps his beak shut in front of Morrin. After all, it is from him she can ask about all the secrets of the sea and whether or not there really are unusual creatures living underwater. Morrin spends so much time swimming that he must surely know about them.

Danger from the Sea

A coral necklace was scarlet on the edge of a large marble amphora, from which water flowed in a fountain. Who had left it here? Was it one of the ladies of the court? Lilophea was so insatiably tempted to take it for herself that she couldn’t help herself. The coral felt good on her fingers. It felt as if they had just been taken out of the water. Not surprising, considering that there was a fountain flowing nearby. There were many in the palace, both in the garden and in the corridors, one even in the throne room. It was because of the heat. In a large island nation, surrounded on all sides by the sea, it is perpetually hot. The ambassadors called it a paradisiacal climate, but many locals disagreed with that definition. Yes, there were plenty of palm trees, fruit, and warm lakes to bathe in, but for the sake of grain and cloth, it was necessary to conduct lively trade with overseas powers. Often this was not entirely convenient, and the heat exhausted the inhabitants. A quarter of the treasury was spent on the fountains that were set up in all the streets. The capital even began to be called the City of Fountains after them. Most of them, though, were in the king’s park and palace. Round, cone-shaped, oval, large and small, in the shape of shells, amphorae and spheres, or with sculptures of nymphs pouring water — in general all shapes, kinds and sizes.

Her father recently hinted at the council that he had created so many water portals to his country for nothing. How can a fountain be called a portal? Lilothea knew nothing of politics, so her father’s speeches often seemed rather strange to her. One thing she did know, she’d seen enough of the fountains to know that no one had ever forgotten the necklaces on them.

“Put it back!” The seneschal was already flying after her like an annoying duenna. “You can’t touch things that someone has forgotten.”

“It was just left here for all comers.”

“Dream on, princess!”

“Well, anything can happen,” Lilophea went through the beads like a rosary. The orange and red corals came in all shapes and sizes, just like the fountains in Aquilania.

“Drop it!” The peacock was clearly nervous. “If someone left things behind on purpose, it might be for witchcraft purposes.”

“I don’t believe in witchcraft,” she said, and was instantly struck down as she recalled the marvelous dream of the unearthly creature playing by the waterfall.

“I’m waiting for you… at the bottom of the sea,” his voice echoed in the murmuring of the water. Did the peacock hear it?

The seneschal grudgingly turned his nose up at the fountains and flapped his wings very aggressively.

“When things are thrown about like that, provided they are not old and unwanted, they want to do bad things,” he explained businesslike. “I wonder if you have a rival at Court who went to the witch doctor and told her to put on the necklace and make you ugly by wearing it.”

“And how did she know that I would walk down this corridor without someone else taking the necklace before me?”

“A fool would know. Your father’s office is next door. Only those closest to him go in here.”

“You can’t take a joke.”

“But your rivals, knowing your passion for shiny things, know what to lure you to.”

“One of them would like to go to the harem instead of me,” she joked again.

“What if they do?” The peacock replied seriously.

“They say there’s enough room in harems for everyone.”

“But there is competition there, too.”

“You’ll tell me later,” Lilophea wished she could cover his beak with her fingers. The peacock was flying too high under the arabesques of the ceiling and crackling about very unpleasant things.

“Don’t start talking about the harem and life in it again if you want to remain my friend,” she asked. Then the peacock understood and nodded. There, even he can be negotiated with. One has only to beat for pity.

“It’s a pity that Aquilania is so dependent on sea trade that my father will eventually have to give me in marriage to someone from the partner states. All the kings are already married, there’s only a chance of ending up in the sultan’s harem.”

“There are still kings of the sea, they’re not married.” The peacock didn’t say that. Lilothea looked around. There seemed to be someone hiding in the fountain. She spotted someone’s head behind the marble curb. It looked like a child who had decided to go for a ride and bathe in the wrong place. He had green hair on his head, too, so his actual color was impossible to see.

“Hey!” the princess called out to the prankster, but he only chuckled in response. Or was it a splash of water? She couldn’t tell if it was the child’s head or the shiny, scaly fishtail, which swung up and disappeared.

“They are cheeky creatures!” The peacock barked.

“Who are they?”

“They are sea creatures!”

“Don’t worry about them,” Lilophea gripped the coral in her hand. “It’s a fountain, not the sea. Learn to understand the difference.”

The peacock wanted to mutter something angry in return, but Lilophea sped forward down the corridor. She lingered at the door to the king’s study. There were no guards standing here with halberds. This was most unusual. Concerned voices came from within. The princess was tempted and put her ear to the door.

“What are you doing? The princess should not behave like a spy,” the peacock murmured concernedly over her head, but he himself also listened warily to the sounds of conversation.

The king was speaking to his advisors. Lilothea could distinguish them by their voices. Some had a bass, some a baritone, others pleasant tenors. By the coloring of their voices even a blind man could guess who was involved in the conversation.

“Things got too bad! It is all because of them!” complained the bass of the senior counselor. “I had to give them my daughter. They put poor Katarina not even on the ship, but on the back of a monster whale. We haven’t seen her since, but recently a sea gull brought a message from her in its beak. They won’t let her go. They even chained her with a gold chain to keep her from escaping. Back to the land… well, I mean our island nation.”

The older man was evidently shy, afraid to speak directly.

“There are more important matters,” the Second Minister’s amiable tenor contradicted him. “The first is trade, the second is the threat of war. On one side is the Sultan’s fleet, on the other a more powerful enemy. If we decide on an alliance with the stronger side, putting aside the unpleasant memory of the experience with Katharina, we will have an ally who will easily sink not only the Sultan’s fleet for us, but also the armadas of all the capricious kingdoms trading with us. We must choose the strongest. Then we will not be at a disadvantage.”

“It is too risky,” said the king. “We don’t know who we’re dealing with. If he sinks the enemy, he’ll destroy us.”

“I know how devious he is, and how dangerous and treacherous his people are,” said one of the advisors.

“It is exactly.” The others nodded. “He is a risky man to be around.”

“But it’s more risky to refuse him,” said the other minister again, and there was a silence in the room. Evidently there was nothing to object to.

“You shouldn’t have built so many fountains. They’re so easy to get through to the world,” the chattering advisers began. “Maybe we should fill them all with sand.”

“But that would leave lakes and rivers.”

“We’ll enclose them with high dams, fences, grates. Anything to make sure no one from the water gets in.”

“And where will people get drinking water?”

“That’s the problem. They come from the water. They can only be destroyed along with water, and without water, people can’t survive. So we are cornered, and they are free to go everywhere.”

Lilophea could no longer tell whose voice she was hearing. Everyone was talking at once.

“Be quiet!” the king pounded his fist on some hard surface, obviously the table. “The last message says it all. It seems we have lost to them. Of course, we can no longer catch fish with a message sewn in their belly, or let strange sailors with shells for ears into port, but the messages will still come. And they are becoming more and more threatening. And calling an army is useless. You can’t fight the elements.”

Again there was a rumble of indignant voices inside.

“They come from the sea.”

“They threaten us all.”

“How do we fight them?”

“Let’s give up the princess as they want.”

“No, it is not at all,” said the king and the first minister in one voice. The latter dreamed of marrying the princess himself. Lilothea knew this, so she tried as little as possible to get in his face. He looked at her too carnivorous. Naturally, considering that with a beautiful girl he was sure to get at least half the country.

Lilothea didn’t want the First Minister to succeed in the matchmaking, but the prospect of being given to who knows who didn’t tempt her either.

“Their leader wants the princess. He believes that she is of the same blood as him.”

“He will not drown her, at least not for a while, and we will have a head start.”

“On the one hand he can sacrifice her, and on the other he can give a generous ransom for her.”

“Either way, it’s the princess he wants, or he won’t leave us alone.”

Lilophea did not understand much. There was too little information, and it was too scattered and contradictory. Could it be about the Sultan? It doesn’t sound like it.

“Do you know what they’re talking about better than I do?” She asked Seneschal in a whisper, but he only flapped his wings anxiously.

“I think we’d better get on a ship and be on our way,” he said, moving away from the door. “So let’s hurry up and see your privateer.”

Lilophea eavesdropped for another minute, but the conversation was disappointing.

“They come from the sea! They are extremely dangerous! They could crush the whole kingdom! They want the princess! The best thing is to give her to them!”

It’s definitely not about pirates. The pirates of the seas don’t yet have a fleet of their own to take over an entire country. They act in isolation. She knew, for she had watched their ships at sunset. The king and his advisers must be talking about some foreign conquerors. She was only surprised by the phrase “coming from the sea.” Would it not be more correct to say they came by sea or from across the sea. Otherwise, the meaning would be fantastic. What kind of creatures could come ashore from the depths of the sea?

Probably the kind of creatures you saw in the mirage in the mirror, the memory reminded her. Immediately the cold voice of reason answered her. It was only a mirage. A mirage is something that does not exist.

Would you like it to exist?

Lilophea gripped the coral beads tighter in her hand. They were pleasantly cold on her fingers. They made her feel at ease.

Morrin had been waiting for her on the gallery for a long time. There was a wonderful view of the sea. The privateer paced to and fro, an earring in his ear gleaming in the sun.

“He is a beauty!” The peacock said. “We must go away with him.”

“He didn’t invite us along,” Lilophea shushed the bird.

“Good bye!” Seneschal corrected her. “Your job is to flirt with him to get us comfortable quarters on his vessel.”

“What have I come to? The bird is telling me what to do.”

“I’m not a bird, I’m your friend.”

It is a pity that the feathered friend did not think of the fact that during the sea voyage the unguarded beauty could be captured and sold into slavery. And along with her in captivity will be her bird. She must ask Seneschal if he has been in a cage before.

Right now Lilophea was more interested in looking in the mirror. There was one framed in brass in the gallery between the columns, but Morrin was standing in the doorway to it. He had tanned himself on his voyages and was so handsome that she wished she had worn a dress and tiara to meet him. Since when had Morrin become so fond of her that she wanted to dress up for him? Could it be Seneschal had cast a spell on her? He decided to bewitch her to someone who had a ship at his disposal. What absurd thoughts were going through her head?

It was quiet everywhere, except for the distant lapping of the waves. Lilophea could even hear her skirts rustling. Azure with white lace, they themselves looked like waves. Morrin liked to jokingly remark that the blue hue of the morning sea was the princess’ favorite color. It probably was. Lilophea didn’t think much about what shade of fabric to choose. But seamstresses also noted that the color of the sea wave was her favorite. So be it. The sea is beautiful. It’s all right if her outfit resembles the sea.

“Your Highness!” The privateer gave her a bow that many courtiers would not have dared. Where did he learn his gallantry? Does he have a teacher of etiquette at sea? Is it any kind of newt? Lilophea wanted to make a joke on the subject and suddenly felt the salty taste of blood in her mouth. How did it happen that she bit her tongue? And from the waves in the distance, quiet singing voices sounded as if they were coming:

“Do not divulge our secrets!”

Lilophea looked back at the waves lapping on the shore.

In the presence of the privateer, Seneschal was busily silent. He was probably afraid that Morrin might want to kidnap the talking bird and sell it at a profit.

“His name is Seneschal and he is my best friend,” the princess announced, but the peacock did not make a sound. As if he was full of water in his mouth. How cleverly he suddenly turned from a chatterbox to a reticent!

“It is a magnificent bird,” praised Morrin. “It is blue! They’re rare here.”

He’d acquired an amusing hat with many colorful feathers. He wondered what bird’s tail they’d been plucked from. Of course, Seneschal hesitated at the sight of the feathers, and wondered if he should ever speak to their owner.

“I have a favor to ask of you.”

“I am at your service.”

And she was afraid to even breathe a word of what she wanted to ask. The sea reeked of cold. It suddenly seemed dangerous. She wondered if she should ask about the creatures that supposedly lived in its depths. Lilophea bit her lip for a moment and then said something different from what she wanted to say.

“You don’t know who Father is afraid of. I heard him talking to his advisers about those who come from the sea. It is strange, really.”

“Well, if you mean the island savages. But it’s hard for them to get here, even in junks.”

“Ask somebody, though. You know a lot of people in the port. I don’t know anyone. And you sail the seas, you talk to other captains. Yes, and in the sea itself you might notice something.”

Lilophea stammered. You have to give him a few compliments to flatter him. Then he would do her errands more willingly. A little flattery never hurt. Morrin must understand that he was the best privateer that came to court and that was why she was turning to him. The real reason was that he happened to be the youngest, and he was the easiest person for her to get along with. Well, he’s better off not knowing that. The main thing was to praise him as a navigator.

Her compliments flattered the young man. He even began to tell the princess about his activities and plans for the future.

“I want to be not just a sailor, but a discoverer. I want to find a luxurious deserted island with tropical forests, waterfalls, mountains, in which the ancient gods are carved, and make a new state out of it.”

“And…”

“If I found such an island, would you be my queen?”

Did she hear him right? The rascal is proposing to her. But you have to admit he’s a charming rascal.

“Have you found it?”

“I have one in mind, but the magic that dwells there interferes.”

“Is it magic?”

He nodded.

“Is it real?”

He nodded again.

“Well, there are also all kinds of crooks, swindlers who pretend to be fortune-tellers, soothsayers, and fortune-tellers.”

“Or they are royal wizards.” He nodded slyly at the passing barnacle, so busy calculating that he hadn’t even noticed the strange pair, the princess and the privateer.

“Well, yes,” Lilophea looked behind the old man in the blue, silver star-embroidered robes and pointy toed cap. There were several in the court. They all scattered strange chips, looked through spyglasses at the night sky, drew whole maps of different symbols and numbers, but no one could truly predict the future.

“Will there be a harem on your island state?” She asked Morrin, as if in passing.

“That depends on you.”

“What do you mean?”

“It will be my kingdom, so I will make the rules. I confess I have a liking for Oriental customs, and would have had a harem, but that was before I had a woman in mind who I thought would be worth more to me than a harem on her own.”

“Does my father know of your ambitious plans yet?”

“Not yet,” Morrin looked cautiously around. “Better not to tell him just yet.”

“It seems you plan to keep your little island nation independent of ours and free of taxation.”

“Well,” he grinned charmingly. “But I’ll call it by your name when I conquer it, of course. I wanted to call the new lands after myself first, to honor my own kind, but your name sounds better. Lilophea. Sounds like a tune. May I call you by your name when no one is around, of course?

“Father won’t approve, nor will the courtiers.”

“But they won’t hear.”

“I wouldn’t vouch for it. There are too many idle and curious people in the palace.”

“What are they all doing here?”

“Like you; serving someone, paying tribute to someone, asking for something. By the way, you said the island must be conquered. But there are no inhabitants there. So from whom should it be conquered?”

“I didn’t say there were no inhabitants. I only said there are no people there. But in the waters around it… um, how shall I explain it?”

“Are they in the waters?” That’s what intrigued her. “Who could live in the waters?”

“It is not who, but what.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. That’s the essence of magic. We mortals don’t understand it, and therefore we don’t know how to fight it.”

“What is magic? And where does it come from?”

“Most often it comes from the waters.”

“But the island itself is a piece of land, albeit small.”

“It is not small!” Morrin objected seriously. “It has springs. And by the springs…” He glanced cautiously at the fountain in the form of a mermaid with a pitcher. “I will not fill your pretty head with nonsense, Princess Lilophea. I’ve wrested the island from those freaks. They come out of the water at night. I’ll at least kidnap you and make you an island’s queen.”

“You don’t have to kidnap me. I might agree to it anyway.”

She felt as if someone’s wet fingers closed around her throat and began to choke her. It was hands of water. Water rushed into her mouth and eyes.

“What’s the matter with you?” Morrin shook her.

She wanted to say she was all right, but there was water in her throat. The gallery was deserted. That was why she had arranged to meet Morrin here. No one would see them. And now no healer had answered her call. She had to come to her senses herself. The nausea passed quickly. The invisible fingers stopped choking her, and the coral in her hand felt strangely warm, like coal in a furnace. She felt as if she could open her fingers and her hand would be scorched.

“It is a strange ship!” Lilophea only now noticed the ship in the bay. It resembled a mermaid of wood, with gills on its sides. And pearls glittered in its masts.

“What ship is it? I can’t see anything!” Morrin stared at the horizon in bewilderment.

He must be pretending not to reveal his pirate friends who had illegally docked off the coast, Lilophea decided. She herself had never given away pirates or smugglers. She liked to watch them. And now she liked the ship. It reminded her of a fairy-tale creature, stiff and sailing across the sea on its own. And above it was a bridge of rainbows.

Gifts from the waterman

It was impossible not to attend the reception in honor of the ambassadors from Etar. On her way to the throne room, Lilophea found another unusual thing on the railing of the stairs — a mother-of-pearl box full of large pearls. They shimmered with a pale, dead gleam, and Seneschal kept talking about the drowned women they reminded him of.

“Have you ever seen one in your life?” Lilophea asked bluntly, which made him cover his beak briefly. It’s nice to have a peacock friend, but sometimes he gets tiresome. The large polished pearls in the box were much prettier than the one the caper had given her in the sink. It was as if someone was jealous of that gift and decided to give her something better. But who was it? There was no one at the stairs. It was useless to look around for the giver. And that was what happened every time she found a gift from someone she didn’t know. And lately she was finding them everywhere. In the garden, under the palm trees in the park, on the lawns, in the groves of magnolias, most often by the fountains and springs, but sometimes coral and pearls were brought right into her bedroom. She woke up in the morning and jewelry made of shells and some strange sea stones were lying on the dressing table or right on the pillow. It was a miracle. Lilophea found jewels in the shape of starfish, seahorses, jellyfish, and assorted fish. And one day she noticed that in the gallery someone had paved an entire path of sparkling stones under her feet. They shimmered under her feet in all shades of the rainbow. She had to stoop down to collect them one by one to keep from treading on any one. They shimmered like fireworks.

Even the Seneschal said they were rare and very expensive and should not be thrown back into the sea where they came from. And he had always been against her keeping jewels from an unknown giver.

“I didn’t know there were gems like that in the depths of the sea,” Lilophea said in surprise.

“There’s more than meets the eye,” the peacock muttered, but he didn’t specify what it was. He didn’t like to talk about the underwater world. He wasn’t a water bird, and he couldn’t go to the sea bottom to see all the local wonders with his own eyes. Naturally, he was angry. Lilophea couldn’t breathe underwater either, but she was still curious about all the underwater wonders. If you can’t see everything with your own eyes, you can at least gossip. If mermaids really existed, she would gladly be friends with one to gossip about the underwater kingdom. Of course, if there was such a thing. Even the lore that mermaids could drag her to the bottom didn’t scare her.

Seneschal was much more cautious. Perhaps that was the only reason why he was still not in a cage, but was flying free. A talking peacock would be put in a cage, so in the presence of strangers he pretended to be silent.

Entering the throne room, where the solemn assembly was already taking place, Lilophea was surprised that the peacock became straight as a mute. Not even a squeak. But he obediently sat on her shoulder, pretending to be tame.

Nevertheless some lady wondered why he did not have a golden leash-chain attached to his leg, as tame birds like falcons, parrots and even peacocks in rare cases are supposed to have. And the case of the princess’s personal peacock, of course, was considered rare.

Lilophea hurriedly stepped away from the annoying lady. The seneschal, fortunately, was not heavy at all. Nestled on her shoulder, he resembled a rare piece of jewelry. The stone on his forehead shimmered with iridescent reflections under his colorful tuft, his puffy tail tickled her skin pleasantly, and when it opened it resembled a frieze around a princess’s dress.

“Is he your new admirer?” Her confidant, Morissa, took a lively interest in the peacock. It was the girl’s duty to keep close to the princess at all times, but she often slacked off. And now she was bored at the reception. But she didn’t mind plucking a luxurious feather from the peacock’s tail. The seneschal didn’t even hiss at her. He must have taken a fancy to the pretty brown-haired girl in the canary-yellow dress. Morissa immediately tried to arrange a feather as an adornment for her corsage.

“You have a whole bird, and that is enough for me,” she explained playfully. “By the way, it is a beautiful peacock. What country was it brought from?”

“It speaks!” Lilophea bragged.

“Aren’t you mistaking him for a parrot?” Morissa doubtfully looked at the silent bird.

“It is absolutely not!” Lilophea did not want to look like a liar in the eyes of her friend, so she even touched the peacock by the lush tail. “Come on, Seneschal! Say something!”

But the peacock had a lot of water in its beak.

“I guess he only indulges in conversation with royalty. He doesn’t have the courtesy to talk to a court maid like me anymore.”

Morissa was surprisingly frank when she and the princess were alone. But, like Seneschal, her rudeness wore off as soon as anyone else came along.

Her widowed father left his daughter at court without a dowry. So the beautiful Morissa would probably have to spend her life as a maid of honor, unless her looks and pedigree were more important to someone than her financial situation. Lilophea had heard rumors that Morissa’s father liked to gamble, so the family was constantly short of money.

Morissa was not discouraged. Secretly she ran on dates with the capers. Until it ended in trouble, so Lilophea too was not afraid to watch their ships from the shore, but still did not come close. What’s the worst that could happen? The worst thing would be if people back home found out how she was enjoying her leisure time.

For Morissa, it was all right, even if she was suddenly kidnapped and taken across the ocean. Still, she had almost nothing to lose.

“Look at the way he’s staring at you,” Morissa pointed to one of the lavishly turbaned Eastern ambassadors. He was actually staring at them. “He wanted to kidnap you from here.”

“They are ambassadors from Etar.”

“What crooked swords and feathered turbans they wear,” Morissa said as if she had not heard her. “And the trousers are of expensive silks. And what ornaments! If it is so rich in Etar, I shall pretend to be you and go to the harem instead of you.”

“It is right now! Let’s swap roles.”

“We’ll just have to find a wizard who can change our faces as well,” said Morissa playfully grinning.

Meanwhile, the ambassador was staring at the princess so intently that it seemed as if he was trying to capture her mind.

Lilophea turned away. She suddenly felt heavy and stuffy under his gaze. Meanwhile, the ambassador leaned toward his escort and whispered something.

“She no longer fits! She is theirs now, not ours. She is underwater…”

Did the murmuring of the fountain’s jets really make her hear those words? Or was she only imagining it?

The peacock on her shoulder grumbled.

“I want to buy a monkey and wear it on my shoulder, too,” said Morissa dreamily. “It would be both a pet and a fun addition to my outfit. What do you think?”

“You can have a monkey from the King’s menagerie. You have my permission.”

“No, I want to bargain some cute and scholarly monkey from the sailors myself. And then I’ll teach her all sorts of tricks.”

Lilophea only shrugged her shoulders. Her confidant, Morissa, was sneaky and charming. Often, through flirting, she found out information that even spies would not have known. But even she knew nothing about underwater states.

“Ask your suitors,” the princess insisted. “You have so many of them on the dock.”

“My suitors are nothing but pirates,” Morissa snapped back. “They are more interested in those who can be robbed, and mermaids are not one of them. So they know nothing of the underwater kingdom. But I know a lot about pirates, and how nice it is to kiss them, and get presents from them. I can tell you all about it.”

“What would your father say if he knew how you spend your leisure hours here?”

“It’s a good thing my father isn’t here. Besides, he’s so busy trying to find me a decent stepmother, he doesn’t think about anything else.”

Morissa was right. Lilophea sighed sadly. Not everyone has good fathers. And some mothers left a lot to be desired, too. Many of the maidens complained that their noble mothers had been unnecessarily strict with them as children.

Lilophea thought that her kind and caring father would one day be forced to give her in marriage to someone she had not chosen herself, and she immediately felt gloomy.

Iridescent streams flashed in the water in the fountain, as if someone was trying to comfort her. But the box of pearls in her hands became heavier.

“Who gave it to you?” Morissa asked.

“I don’t know? But I think each one of these pearls has a woman’s name.”

“Is that so?” The girl giggled softly.

“My peacock says that all the pearls are the souls of drowned women.”

“But I hear him say nothing but silence.”

Morissa even began to tease Seneschal and provoke him to say something, but he remained stubbornly silent.

“You see! It looks like he is deaf and dumb.”

“It is not true!” Lilophea herself did not understand why she had to defend him. Seneschal was so often rude to her.

“By the way, have you seen an unusual ship by the shore, looking like a large carved figure of a mermaid?”

Morissa shook her head in the negative. She and Lilophea were getting out of the crowd that had gathered for the reception, because they were both tired of it. Thankfully, Aquilania was a tropical island nation, and they didn’t have much regard for etiquette. Besides, the king never reprimanded his daughter for her manners, nor did he let others.

It was a good thing he didn’t know yet that seafaring gifts had begun to be delivered to the princess’s palace. Boxes appeared by themselves at springs, fountains, and once, instead of a jug for washing, Lilophea found an amphora with pearls and a wonderful mirror in which you can see the underwater world.

Morissa had already traded the monkey from some pretty caper by then. But the mirror, which could see mermaids, schools of fish, and tridents of newts, fascinated her so much that she was ready to give the monkey in exchange for it.

“Curious, how does it work?” She was nervous. “I knew a toy-maker in the province, where I lived with my father. He made such marvelous mechanisms, but even he couldn’t have made such a marvelous thing.”

“What if it was magic?” Lilophea watched the swarms of piranhas that pounced on those drowning in the water, wrinkled at the sight of the mermaids picking up and eating the bodies that fell into the sea after the battle of the ships above. In the mirror there were glimpses of sunken palaces, lagoons of sirens, colorful jellyfish, and some strange underwater flowers that caught and devoured the fish that swam by.

“Do not show it to anyone,” Morissa advised in a whisper. “If it really is magic, it is better to keep it a secret.”

Lilophea wanted to tell her that the jewels she had been given by someone unseen were also magical, but she did not dare. What if Morissa started sneaking them around and something bad would happen to her. She herself remembered what visions began as soon as she tried on one of the gifts.

Lilophea went for walks closer and closer to the sea shore, but she no longer saw a ship in the shape of a mermaid. But once she noticed a strange girl, who was diving into the sea waves and after a couple of minutes swam out. Her hair shimmered in the setting sun with multicolored strands. Strangely, there wasn’t even a dress thrown on the shore. What had she come to the sea in? Her shoulders, occasionally peeking out of the waves, were definitely bare. The swimmer suddenly disappeared for a long time under water, and Lilophea even worried about whether she would drown, but a bright head with purple-green strands suddenly came up very close. The stranger and the princess were separated only by a coastal boulder.

“Hello!” The stranger’s voice sounded like the echo in a shell. Lilophea only now noticed that her pale face had some bumps on it, and the pearl on her forehead looked as if it were growing right out of her skin.

“Who are you? I have not seen you at court. You must have just come in from across the sea.”

“You could say that.”

Probably she was by that peculiar ship that looks like a mermaid.

“I am Nereida,” the setting sun disappeared behind the horizon, and the girl in the water suddenly began to behave more bravely.

“And I am Lilophea.”

“I know.”

She must have heard the name of the local princess before. But how does she know that it is the princess who walks unaccompanied on the seashore?

“I wish they would let me swim in the sea,” Lilophea sighed. “Sometimes I want to dive into the waves too.”

“Try it!” Nereida beckoned her with a pale hand. “Come on, let’s swim together. Let’s dive deep! It’s very exciting.”

Lilophea didn’t mind, but she was ashamed to take off her dress. What if someone walked along the shore and saw her naked. Besides, a corset without a maid couldn’t be undone. Better just to chat with a new acquaintance for now.

“Are you from far away, Nereida? Your homeland must be very far away.”

“It was measured by depth or height.”

What did she mean by that? Lilophea grimaced as she noticed the white skin between her fingers. It looks so much like webs.

“You must be bored at the beach,” Nereida suggested. “Ashore is always boring, unless it’s a siege of a fortress or a battle at sea. I like to see armadas in action.”

“Have you ever seen one? I haven’t.”

“I’ve seen a lot of things.”

Nereida’s eyes flashed strangely as she stumbled over the mother-of-pearl mirror in Lilophea’s hand.

“It is better to see things in real life than inside toys,” she hinted. So the mirror is a toy after all. And Lilophea decided that it really was magic.

“Don’t stay on the beach, come to me!” Nereida tried to clutch at Lilophea’s dress, but she was just a little short of it. In addition, Seneschal was already flying toward the shore, squeaking something anxiously as he flew. Seeing him, Nereida’s face twisted so sour that it became almost ugly.

“See you later, Lilophea,” she ducked under the water quickly. You could only make out a long tail of her multicolored strands and what looked like fish fins. Lilophea looked after her for a long time, and the foamy circles on the water diverged in the form of some signs.

In the company of the peacock

Morissa was glad that she had successfully traded the monkey. The amusing little beast was worth nothing more than a kiss. She had trained him to sit on her narrow shoulder, where he could only fit with difficulty, and always had his tail around her neck to keep him from falling over.

“I’ll call him Traitor, because he only wants to jump on someone else’s shoulder where there’s more room,” she said.

“Better the Cheater,” said Lilophea, noticing the way the monkey had deftly removed the ring and pearl from the gift chest.

“Traitor sounds more romantic, it’s as if I were a fairy who bewitched the cheating lover into a monkey and now takes him with her,” joked the girl.

Cheater meanwhile offended snorted and dropped the ring, as if burned on it. He even blew on his paw.

“Your jewelry chills me,” said Morissa reluctantly. “I tried it on while you were away, and it looked as if I were freezing at the bottom of the ocean, snow and angry swordfish. It was horrible! I took them off right away, and I felt warmer. Aren’t you cold in them?”

“No!” Lilophea wore a pearl bracelet made of many strands, and she felt no cold at all.

“You’d better be more careful. The pirates in the harbor are wondering if it’s easy to kidnap the Princess,” Morissa hinted.

“And they weren’t teasing you.”

“I could betray them to the harbor-guard, but they gave me Traitor for that. And he’s so pretty!”

“Not for nothing, it is for a kiss. Which means you didn’t get him for free.”

“A kiss is not money. It didn’t make me poorer.”

Lilothea did not remind Morissa that she couldn’t get any poorer, because she was penniless. Her father was losing everything. She would have been better off looking for a worthy match at court, rather than tangling with dubious individuals at the wharf. She even got herself a telescope so she could watch the smugglers from the gallery by starlight. Strange how no one had ever caught them in the dangerous vicinity of the royal castle. Dashing fellows! She even began to respect them for their courage and recklessness.

“They’re in a hurry to earn their keep,” Morissa explained. “Not everyone loves a girl for free.”

“How do you know?”

“They only socialize with those who wear a bright yellow and red dress, and that’s what only portly whoremongers dress like. They always have brightly colored faces. If we can get them, we could walk through the town incognito, and no one would suspect us of being noble ladies.

“It’s too risky,” Lilophea began to suspect Morissa. She might be conspiring with the pirates to sell the princess to them. A penniless freedwoman at court is sometimes capable of all manner of intrigue to secure a well-fed future. Morissa’s prospects were grim. As soon as she was old enough no one would hold her as a lady-in-waiting or a maid of honour. And her father had bankrupted the estate. Where could she go? Except marry a pirate or a smuggler and sail the seas with him.

“I’ll go to the ball,” said Morissa, smoothing her canary yellow dress with puffed shoulders and spreading the feathers of her lemon-colored mask. “I will go with the Traitor. He’s my beau tonight, and let everyone else be jealous.”

She already knew that no one would be jealous. Stately and rather handsome, Morissa was not particularly popular with refined courtiers, but she was easy to get along with all sorts of criminals: pirates, bandits, smugglers. They all tried to oblige her. But at the masquerade ball, where she was going, most likely no one would even notice her. Perhaps such an exotic appearance as hers only appealed to rugged men.

“She looks like a mulatto,” said the peacock, as soon as her maid left.

“Who is she?” Lilophea wondered.

“Well, let’s say, even a Creole or a Quaternary.”

“What does that mean?”

“That she has an admixture of black people’s blood in her.”

“Are there people with black skin?”

“People are rare. Mostly wild island tribes that try to enslave. But I have seen with my own eyes black-skinned wizards and peri.”

“Tell tales!” Lilophea was indignant. It was curious that somewhere there were creatures so unlike the usual people around her.

“There are whole islands in the sea with black peri.”

“What are peri?”

“They are Genie girls. They twirl around the fires at night, like pillars of fire, and lure sailors with their charms to the slaughter. And they are supposed to be kind. That depends on whom! One plucked feathers from my tail to make herself a fan. Can you imagine?”

“You could write a whole novel of adventures about your life before you came to my prosperous palace under the guardianship of a royal daughter.”

“By the way, I was the one who came under your tutelage, not the one who got in. You frowned for the first minute, wondering whether I should be invited to live in your chambers or sent straight to the pigeon-house with the other peacocks.”

“It’s not a dovecote, it’s a greenhouse,” said Lilophea, who had some difficulty in guessing that he was referring to the glass structure in the garden.

“If the peacocks are white, it’s a dovecote.”

“No one’s ever seen a blue one here before you.”

“And in countries other than Aquilania, peacocks are mostly blue or blue with green flecks.”

The Seneschal flew around the room worriedly.

“So are we going to the masquerade ball?”

“I don’t feel like it,” Lilophea went through the pearl and coral jewelry in the chest. It felt so good to touch them. It was as if water were gurgling inside them. And the miraculous mirror showed ever new vivid pictures of the amazing underwater world, where the tridents of newts shoot lightning bolts, and mermaids ride in a chariot drawn by sharks or stingrays. Truly magical stuff!

“By the way, I got you a mask to match that beautiful mauve dress with the cape you never wore.”

Seneschal had indeed got a mask of feathers and sequins. It resembled the tufts of a peacock. Lilothea put it to her face. It really looks magnificent, and the princess is unrecognizable in it, except for the tiara. And the purple bouffant outfit is worth wearing for once. The peacock helped her tighten the lacing in the back like a caring chambermaid. The corset was so tight it was hard to breathe. You wouldn’t think a peacock could pull the laces down like that with one beak.

“Come on, let’s go!” He flew ahead, of course, and talked nonsense until they reached the door of the ballroom. Here the Seneschal fell silent as usual. He does not want to be caught and put in a cage for chattering so that in the future he will entertain the king and his ministers exclusively. Perhaps even give them some advice for everyone’s amusement. The scholarly peacock is an unheard of wonder. It can be bragged about in front of ambassadors. He circled over Lilophea’s head like a devoted cavalier.

How long since he sang that she didn’t believe the waterman? He could even now sing for the amusement of all the guests and visitors. They, too, must be warned not to believe the watermen and water waders, or suddenly they crawl right out of the sea.

Instead of water girls, Nereida was carelessly bathing in the fountain near the entrance to the ballroom. Her graceful head stood out against the border of balls and shells. She had lost all shame. At court one must be mindful of propriety. She smiled defiantly at the princess.

“You’re in a hurry to have fun!”

“Yes I am, and what is about you?”

“I prefer to watch from a safe distance.”

“Bathing in the fountains is not permitted.”

“But it’s not forbidden either.”

“That’s because no one’s thought of climbing into them yet.”

“Don’t worry, the guards won’t catch me.”

Lilophea really noticed that there were no guards around for some reason. Usually they were standing guard at the door. Maybe they’re having fun, too.

“Swimming in the sea isn’t enough for you anymore?”

“I like all kinds of portals.”

“What do you mean?”

Nereida was slow to respond, and Lilophea remembered that before entering the ballroom, the mask must be put on her face, otherwise everyone would recognize her as a princess and the fun would not be so interesting. The beauty of a masquerade is that no one will recognize you. A masquerade is like a game of hide-and-seek. Will anyone guess your identity or not? Nereida was in no hurry to go to the masquerade, and Lilophea passed her by.

“It’s not nice to leave a friend,” came a resentful cry from the fountain and the princess was followed by a splash of water.

“So you’re already friends,” the peacock whispered indignantly. “You’ve only talked to her twice, and she’s already asking to be your friend.”

“Don’t you like her?” Lilophea noticed that the peacock kept well away from the fountain while she talked to Nereida. And for some reason Nereida was still squinting at him angrily. Apparently their dislike was mutual. There are some ladies who dislike even very beautiful birds. Personally, she liked it better in the company of a peacock than a cavalier or a friend. The peacock is much easier to handle. He has a funny way of talking. And if he becomes too annoying, he can simply be locked up in a cage. But you can’t get rid of the Sultan that easily if he comes to visit.

It’s a good thing only ambassadors have come from across the sea so far. None of them has approached the princess in person. All negotiations for a possible alliance were conducted only with the king and his ministers. Even all gifts were passed through the king. Lilothea received rolls of fine brocade, spices and silk. She could assume that the Sultan himself, arrived in Aquilania disguised as an ambassador and demanded a masquerade ball to suit the bride-to-be. Also, all the gifts left at the fountains might have been from him. Only this assumption was contradicted by the boxes of jewels from Etar, which turned out to be quite ordinary jewels of opals, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, even amber. But among them were neither unusually large pearls, nor coral, nor rare sea stones. Not to mention the coldness of the water and the visions that did not emanate from them. So it was not the sultan who had given the chests of pearls as a gift after all. But that would be a fairy tale.

“Don’t make friends with just anyone,” the Seneschal advised. “It can turn into trouble.”

“Is it in your case?”

“Have I ever caused you any trouble?” He flapped his luxurious wings vigorously, trying to keep up with her.

“Well, except for the chatter…” she tried to remember. What had he done wrong already? The princess herself had admired his abilities and taken him in. Had he behaved with dignity? He was certainly not grateful to Lilophea. He took her shelter for granted.

“It was dangerous to meet strangers!” He repeated like a parrot.

“Well, I met you!”

Lilofea expected that such insolent and truthful remark will be followed by a barrage of objections, but the peacock somehow dejectedly hushed. Did he really think he was a danger to her?

She felt unusual in his company, but he certainly couldn’t be dangerous.

“Those creatures of the water…” he murmured.

“Nereida is just spoiling. She probably wasn’t allowed to do that at home. I think she came with ambassadors from Etar, which means that in her homeland, she even had to cover her face with a veil. By the way, we should go back and ask her about her country.

“No need!” The peacock was frightened. “You shouldn’t talk to crazy people who bathe in fountains. She might want to drown you in it!”

“Stop it!” Seneschal was understandable. Having found a worthy hostess, he feared he would not lose his nourishing place. If anything happened to her, where would he find the second princess, and how could he become her pet? No wonder he was jealous of everyone.

“Tonight you’re the only one who’s my beau! I promise not to dance with anyone else.”

It would look like fun. She would be spinning around her own axis in the ballroom and a peacock would be flying over her head. But, alas, the young men reached out in succession to ask her to dance. Lilothea wished she had started a ballroom card. It was hard even to remember who she had promised the cotillion and who the quadrille. All around were masks. She should try to remember her admirers by them. Forest elf mask, black dragon mask, scarab mask, falcon or eagle mask, even a mask of peacock feathers, to which Seneschal grunted unhappily.

She did not get to dance with the peacock. Morissa, on the other hand, was luckier. No one asked her to dance at all. Apparently, both the princess and the hapless girl were easy to spot, even under a mask. Morissa came in wearing a half-mask in the form of a dragonfly. The monkey sat on her shoulder, and no other suitor was expected for the evening. Neither pirates nor cutthroats were invited to the ball, of course. Morissa walked dejectedly among the dancers. Even the monkey was not particularly faithful to her and kept trying to jump on the shoulders of the more elegant ladies, which sometimes raised a squeal in the hall.

“Traitor! Get back!” Morissa shouted at the unfaithful pet. Sometimes one shout was not enough to calm him down and she had to catch him with her hands. It was no accident that she had chosen such an expressive name for him. The beast had indeed proved itself to be a thorough traitor. Lilophea thought, with a chuckle, that a guy who wanted to cheat wasn’t that easy to deal with. Morrin, for instance, can’t be caught with the hands, and you can’t keep him away from a whole group of girls he’s flirting with. The newt mask is clearly him. But the adorer of beauties suddenly lifted the mask to smile at passing Lilophea, and it turned out that it’s not Morrin at all. Apparently he’d borrowed the camisole and mask from the lord, too.

And where is Morrin? Have the royal privateers been invited to the masquerade ball, or are they not allowed here either?

Lilothea recoiled in horror from the bear mask that some fat man had worn. In size, he looked like one of the ministers who strenuously advocated that the princess go to the Etar’s harem. He managed to frighten her. He marched to the table with treats and wines. The fat guests all adored the refreshments, and those who were stout preferred to dance. On the high gallery musicians gathered. The lute, mandolin, harp, and flute sounded. It was a wonderful quartet.

Seneschal flapped his wings to the music, careful to keep his distance straight over his hostess’s head, but Lilophea had to dance with the others. She lost count, memorizing the masks of everyone she danced with. Meanwhile, Morissa was training Traitor, catching him off the plumes of the next ladies he jumped on, and reprimanding him for infidelity. Curious, did he understand anything at all? Seneschal was an exception, he had mastered human speech, but could monkeys speak human?

Nereida’s multicolored hair seems to have flashed in the fountain already in the corner of the room. Or was it colored tinsel? Lilothea wanted to look closely, but the dancing pas got in the way. She had to wait until the minuet was over. And now she had some free time. We could skip the next dance. But then someone in the mask of a water king approached Lilophea. How suddenly he appeared. It was as if he had grown out of the floor! A luxurious mask with spikes of coral stretched a crest on the back of his head and back, oriental clothing hinted at the status of the sultan of a distant overseas country. It was probably him! How greedily he looked at her!

Lilothea wanted to slip away from him and could not. Cold arms encircled her waist. The stranger spun her in a dance. Gliding across the parquet with him was much more pleasant than dancing with others, or alone. The dance was like swimming. The unusual couple was already being looked at enviously by others. Lilophea had such a fabulous feeling, as if she were dancing not with the mask, but with the water king himself.

Suddenly she noticed wet footprints on the parquet. Her beau’s hands were wet, too. They soaked his expensive corset with water. Lilophea noticed that the mask’s eyebrows, eyelashes, and lips were lined with gold ochre, and the forehead was decorated with pearls and coral. What if it wasn’t a mask at all? And would it be an insult if she tried to rip it off him right now to see the face under it? What if there is no other face under it? If there isn’t, there’s no one more beautiful than him. This mask is not just a work of art. Such forbidden beauty can only be created by magic.

Where did the cold and sea breeze suddenly come from in the ballroom? Lilophea tried to break free from the hands that held her and could not. The dance was not over yet. The cavalier wouldn’t let her go. And the peacock suddenly flew up to the ceiling and hovered above the chandelier, as if he’d never met his mistress. What a jittery he had become! Instead of being jealous of his mistress and making snide remarks, he seemed to be frightened.

Lilophea became dizzy. Before her eyes flashed the blues, gold, and purples that made up her partner’s costume. She should have shown up at the masquerade dressed as a waterman. All those coral spikes and gold gills made a strong impression. It feels like she’s being danced on by a real waterman who got in here from a lake in the park. It leaves a wet trail on the parquet. Lilothea slipped. And the waterman backed her up.

“Where did you come from?” She tried to distract herself with conversation from the feeling that she was dancing with an underwater creature. What if it turns out that in fact he is just a sheik or a rajah from a distant country? “Have I not seen you at court before? Have you come from afar?”

“Came from the stream in the garden,” he whispered in her ear, and at once she had vivid visions of someone with blue skin and scales climbing out of the spring among the jasmines and leaving wet footsteps on the grass. She glanced sideways at the floor. Small puddles had already collected there. Water was running off her partner. He’d probably just taken a dip in the creek in the garden and was teasing her. There are some very picturesque places in the royal gardens of Aquilania. And in the evening, in the darkness, few are able to see that a guest is swimming in the pond or the streams. Even in a fountain, like Nereida.

“You decided to live in that stream,” she decided to tease him back. “You have a very underwater look. I’d even say seawater!”

“That’s right, Princess,” his voice sounded serious enough, without mockery. “I live in the sea, not in a stream.”

“Then it is strange why you came from the creek, for the coast is very near. Don’t sea carriages go overland? Did you have to get there some other way?”

“You guessed again, as if you’d traveled on the seafloor,” her partner put his arm around her waist so tightly that it was suddenly very cold. It was as if she had fallen into the river instead of his embrace.

“Seaways aren’t meant for land, but I’m lucky, all the waterways are connected. It’s easy to get from the sea to a pond or a river.”

“Or even a fountain?” She remembered Nereida.

“It was true again!” The waterman held her tighter against him. “How did you know about the sea coach made of shells and jellyfish? Your mirror is an eye to the underwater world, but it has not shown them to you yet, or I would know.”

Only the one who gave it to her can know about the miraculous mirror. Lilophea involuntarily tensed.

“Who are you?”

“Haven’t you guessed that yet?”

His face, with its bluish skin and golden eyebrows, leaned right up to her face. Why does she think of the mask as a face? She’d have to dodge and pull that mask off him, and then she’d know there was only a man underneath it.

The peacock under the chandelier became very worried and flapped its wings so vigorously that the crawler must have been staring at it. And Lilophea cautiously ran her fingers over the luxurious mask of the waterman. It was not silk or cardboard or papier-mâché that was palpable beneath her fingers. It was real cold skin, smooth and gliding like water. Droplets of moisture protruded from the coral spikes that grew on her head like a crown.

“You are a waterman! A real waterman! Not a mask!” She whispered faintly, but he caught every sound. His golden lips almost pressed against hers. It felt good and cold at the same time. There was only one thought pounding in her head: How beautiful he was, and how much she wanted to go down with him. Around her was a ballroom, but her partner seemed to draw her into the abyss of the sea. How tempting to be there with him, to see the wonders of the sea. But at the bottom she would not be able to breathe and would drown!

On the galleries above, rows of torches suddenly flashed. It was the king ordering them to be lit. Lilophea heard the excited shouts of the heralds. The flames were blazing everywhere, like monochrome orange fireworks. It was getting warm all around, and she was freezing in the embrace of the watery creature. So someone shouted from the other end of the hall. The water creature! How can you call this handsome creature that? Yes, he is unusual. He has corals and golden gills growing right out of his skin, but how graceful his features are. How athletically built he is! With him it is a pleasure not only to dance, but also just to stand beside. She was only embarrassed by the puddles on the floor, in which small fish were already fussing.

“It’s water, not blood,” he remarked, “but I’ll drown your whole kingdom in it if you don’t marry me.”

Lilothea didn’t have time to tell him that threatening was unnecessary. She was ready to go anywhere with him right now, even if it meant dying in the waves. He had bewitched her. But the flames erupted quite close by. Someone threw a torch right at him. It seems the Second Minister had told him to build a bonfire right in the middle of the ballroom so that the unholy things would crawl back out to sea. How could that be? Lilothea wanted to shout something indignant, but the blue-gold figure with gills and tail had already rushed into the nearest fountain. That was it! In a minute the waterman was as good as gone. The guards didn’t even have time to release the hounds.

The torches burned, but the water on the parquet had time to form letters:

“Come to the bridge!”

What bridge? That’s all the water had time to say! The Second Minister ordered torches around everything, and the night got even hotter than it was.

“This is no longer an island of paradise, but a scorcher!” Lilophea appealed to Seneschal, who finally flew up to her head. He came down from the top when it was safe. The torches all around the palace did not frighten him. Apparently peacocks are afraid of cold water, not hot fire.

A fire was indeed built in the middle of the ballroom to chase away any remnants of the sea invasion. The Second Minister will probably even invite clergymen or wizards here to close the impure ways back with witchcraft or prayers. It doesn’t matter what. The main thing is that he vigilantly guarded the royal daughter he liked so much, and with her the safety of the whole state.

He bowed to Lilophea and went with the guards to search and find the waterman, who, in his opinion, had probably not yet swum back out to sea from the palace ponds. How well he appeared to be aware of the habits of the sea-dwellers. She, on the other hand, had not been told a word about them. She was fortunate that he knew nothing about talking birds, or he would have taken Seneschal away from her and locked her up so that he would not teach the princess all sorts of nonsense.

The guests began to disperse, talking excitedly about what had happened. The waterman was long gone. Lilophea was left alone, not counting the Seneschal hovering overhead. She left the ball in the company of a peacock as she arrived.

Sea Rainbow

The gifts were from the waterman. The mirror was from him too. And as it turned out, it was capable of showing not only the depths of the sea. Now, for example, it showed a picturesque and gruesome picture of the water apocalypse, when the waves overflowed and flooded all of Aquilania. And inside the sinking state, beautiful and terrifying underwater inhabitants crawl out of rivers, lakes, springs, even fountains and suffocate all those who have not yet drowned.

At the ball, the waterman made it clear to her that he would destroy everyone if he did not get what he wanted. The mirror clearly showed her what could happen if she refused the underwater lord.

“For now it is only water, but I will drown your entire kingdom in blood if you do not marry me!”

This phrase rang in her head for a long time before she went to sleep.

The palace stood on the very shore. The sea beat beneath the balcony. Aquilania is an island kingdom. It is surrounded by the sea everywhere. To get out of here, you have to get on a ship. And what does it cost a waterman to destroy just one ship instead of an entire country? Once on the ship, she will be in his territory, and therefore completely at his mercy. After all, the sea is his element. It turns out that Morrin’s offer to sail away together and become mistress of the small island kingdom that he will take over is now, alas, unfeasible. The waterman messed up all the plans. He disturbed court life and now all the guards walk through the galleries armed with torches to scare away the water spies by means of fire. The torches looked ridiculous in the daytime. But what can you do if the creatures that crawled out of the water are only afraid of fire. Ordinary weapons, it was rumored, could neither wound nor frighten them. The flames, on the other hand, had a devastating power over them.

“I wish there were dragons in Aquilanía, like in the mountain kingdom of Tiór,” complained the First Minister. “I wish we could negotiate with the local lord to get one for us. A dragon would be a much better defense against maritime incursions than flaming arrows. Besides, what’s the point of shooting them from the towers if they can fit through any fountain?”

“All fountains should be drained,” the royal advisers said. “And all rivers and pools could be ringed with torches. Dragons are dangerous to summon. They could easily burn down the realm in self-defense. And Aquilania would be nothing but a pile of ashes in a sea of fire.”

Lilophea was tired of hearing them argue. No one locked themselves in their father’s study to discuss falling out of the water anymore. Arguments were held around the clock in the council chamber. The doors there were wide open so that everyone could come in and voice their plan on how to protect themselves from the watermen. The king was not particularly embarrassed by the fact that they came sneaking around at night and making mischief. So, they sank a couple of merchant ships in the port, dragged a few decent pages or fishermen to the bottom, demanded to give them some maidens as a sacrifice, flooded the market square once on the day of the High Tide Festival. It’s all nonsense. The kingdom itself survived! But the waterman’s kidnapping of the king’s daughter from the ball was serious! It was almost a kidnapping. But the clarification was of little concern to anyone.

The creature from the sea! Lilothea cringed when she heard such a nickname again. How could such a charming creature be called a creature from the sea? Yes, the waterman is treacherous, powerful, surely he is mean and cruel if he sinks ships and demands human sacrifice, as they say about him. But he is so fabulously beautiful!

She closed her eyes dreamily.

He has a tail of coral, he has gills of gold, he has skin the color of the sea, but he could still be her lover. Earth girls would not understand her in this. Even Morissa would not approve of such a choice. But Lilothea herself believed that it was a sin not to fall in love with a waterman, if otherwise the whole of Aquilania would end. She was a princess, after all. She just has to be a patriot and at least drown herself to save her kingdom from water invaders. And here it is required only not to sacrifice herself to the waters of the sea, but to fall in love with the king of the sea. Although, no… He did not mention anything about such a condition as love. Only that she must marry him. Lilophea knew that princesses marry strangers from the other side of the world without even asking for consent. The main thing is that the future husband himself should be a ruler: a king, emperor, sultan, shah, raja, or even an underwater king. However, no one has ever married an underwater king. She would probably be the first. Lilophea was saddened to think that it was just an ordinary dynastic deal, devoid of romance. Apparently, the waterman only wants her for some political reasons. For example, he cannot possess all the surrounding islands until he marries the princess.

“Don’t worry!” Seneschal hummed to her as he had to be caged up at the behest of the ubiquitous Second Minister. He appeared to have a keen enough ear to know that the bird was speaking in human tongues. And such a bird is dangerous, suspicious, and may well turn out to be someone’s spy. Seneschal was not favored by the fact that all the king’s birders and trappers refused to recognize him as a local. Nor was he on the list of gifts received from ambassadors and sailors. Still, he’s talked his way out of this one! For a very well mastered human language, his reward was a very fine silver cage with a sturdy lock.

“So you will be locked up someday,” a tiny voice whispered to her from a shell-shaped fountain growing out of the wall. The waterman reflected there, but he was nowhere near her.

She must have imagined it. It was a pity that the reflection with its coral crown and golden gill crests could not be captured as a picture. She would have liked to hang such an unusual portrait on her wall. Such a painter would have to sail a long boat and summon the watermen by some magic tricks. Lilothea knew from experience that to create a portrait, court painters need to look for a long time at a sitter, such as the princess they are painting. She posed like that herself, standing still for hours, while Morissa, meanwhile, frolics, eats oranges, and rejoices that no one has commissioned her portrait.

It is good to paint a princess who knows the rules of etiquette and sits still, but how to keep a slippery creature from the sea in place. You can hurt your fingers on its scales. His body reeks of freezing cold.

“Sing something about the underwater kingdom,” asked Lilophea to the peacock. He answered defiantly, closing his beak and ceasing to hum at all. She belatedly remembered that he can’t stand underwater topics.

“What’s wrong with you?” She wondered. “Whenever you talk about the sea, you get moody. Have you been hurt by the sea people?”

“Morgens,” he said reluctantly, “are members of the underwater race.”

“I’ve heard that before,” the words came to her in a whisper, like a call from a shell.

“Morgens is also the name of a wondrous deep sea state. It united many underwater races, but they have only one ruler. Morgens used to be a fragmented country. There were mermaids at one end, sea serpents at the other end, and underwater sorcerers at the third.”

“You know so much about life under water,” she marveled. Why didn’t he say anything before?

“I’ve heard things from sailors,” he murmured.

“You look so upset. The birdseed they brought you from the pigeon-house wasn’t very good, was it?” She really wanted to tell him a cautionary tale about talkers causing their own misfortune. But the cooped up peacock looked so hurt that he should not have been further upset.