Later, he grabbed me again and launched into a whole speech about himself.In plain language, it basically went like this:
"Come live in my palace. My bed's huge and soft—plenty of room for two.Even if you can't walk because, you know, you're a mermaid, that's fine. I've got servants who can carry you anywhere you want.My father always says, 'A blessed mermaid doesn't need another home,' so—"
Ugh. Human men are so casual. We've known each other for, what, not even a few days?And he's already mapped out the softness of his bed, how many people it can fit, and exactly how many attendants I'd need hovering around me.Please. Who's impressed by that?
We girls with a rock-solid material foundation and unwavering realist principles don't get lured away by that kind of nonsense.Hmph. …
So this shameless man had known me for less than a few days, and he was already planning to take me home.Even if he didn't turn me into grilled fish, there was no way anything good would come of it.
I found him annoying, so I did a perfect backflip and dove back into the sea.By the time he even realized what happened, I was long gone, disappearing into the waves—and I made sure to toss his bandage back to him on my way down.That thing was useless to me anyway.
Honestly, after hanging around with him for a while, my wound was pretty much healed.Mermaids recover fast—sometimes ridiculously fast.Even if it wasn't fully closed yet, it didn't hurt and it had stopped bleeding.I had to admit, though, that little bottle of miracle oil he put on me was… interesting.
I thought that would be the last time we met.But no—there was more to come.
Apparently, fate wasn't done tying us together.
I went back to ruling my underwater queendom and stopped by Aunt Ursula's place to get some beauty oil—the kind that guarantees no scars and even grows back shinier, prettier scales.She told me to apply it morning and night, and by tomorrow morning there'd be no trace of a wound.Of course, the price was 500 pearls.I paid with my Mermaid Pearl Black Card.
Back in the palace, the memory of that gentle human—applying medicine for me, talking to me, bringing me food—kept replaying in my head.
He said he'd bring me more jewelry next time…Will he really?
Ever since I met him, my private Ariel Museum has been filling up with all sorts of strange and wonderful new treasures.
The crystal coral palace beneath the sea shimmered under the morning sunlight.
Clownfish danced through the coral gardens, and jellyfish of every color drifted lazily, painting the underwater world in ribbons of rainbow light.Sea lions strolled without a care, shark soldiers patrolled the castle walls, and the great whale buses glided between distant waters—year-round travelers, always carrying along sea creatures eager for a long journey.
When the first shaft of sunlight pierced into the waters I knew so well, I was busy with my lobster, flounder, and crab underlings, collecting the trash humans had tossed into our world: plastic pipes, beer bottles, caps, and broken nets, all while blocking out the gasoline slicks, chemical waste, and other filth.
And yet—that single, dazzling beam of light still caught my eye. I couldn't resist; I began to rise, slowly, toward the surface.
The water was cool, but the sun above the shore was gloriously bold—warm and gentle, like it could lull you into a nap. The breeze, when it touched you, carried a faint, refreshing chill.Since that day, I've had the feeling that something from above has been calling me.
I'm not waiting for anyone.
What I love is this sunlight—and the crisp, clean breath of air where the sea and land meet.
Half my body is in the water; the other half is bathed in sunlight. The warmth of the sun quickly dries the water from my skin, each strand of hair falling in loose waves over my shoulders, carrying a faint, creamy scent of the sea.
I tilt my head back and watch seagulls wheel across the sky, diving now and then to snatch an unlucky fish from the waves. Farther off, the tall palace towers on land gleam under the sun, guards pacing the walls, servants bustling to begin another busy day.
Yes—our merfolk have exceptional eyesight. Even across the distance of the sea, I can make out the smallest details of the human world.They hurry through their days, chasing their livelihoods from morning to night… though, truth be told, they move rather slowly.
A mermaid's tail can slice through the water at fifty miles per hour at the very least, and much faster when we push ourselves. By comparison, those two human legs go thump-thump-thump along the ground—it's almost comical to watch. Sometimes one of them trips—oh, so running too fast on land can make you fall? You might even get hurt. That doesn't happen so easily in the sea; at most you bump into a rock, and even then, real injury is rare.
I float there, watching in silence, thinking—whether you're mermaid or human, you'll always be drawn to the world you don't know.Curiosity is a universal weakness. Even for a princess.
I wonder: how does it feel for them, walking every day on dry, solid ground?Do they ever imagine what it's like for us—tails gliding through the water, rising and sinking with ease, crossing a thousand miles in a single day?
Humans always covet what they lack. So do mermaids.But still, I'm grateful to the Sea God for all I have: beauty beyond compare, eyes blue as gemstones, hair the warm brown of sunlight with strands of gold and red that burn like an endless flame. My lashes are long, my skin luminous, my lips the color of deep-sea blood coral.
Our noses are small and fine—mermaids don't need to breathe the damp air of the land. My tail is long and powerful, my arms lean with muscle, my chest and waist full and well-shaped.It's not just a gift of birth—it's the result of a lifetime in constant motion. Without the burden of gravity, we swim year-round, twenty-five/twenty-four hours a day.
No wonder this princess was born beautiful—and trained into the kind of figure that makes even the fiercest sea beasts stop and stare.
I was deep in thought, soaking in the warmth of the sun—
when suddenly, a familiar, mood-ruining voice cut through the peace.
Prince (eyes sparkling): "Do you want to come to the surface? There's so much fun up there!"
…Good lord.He startled me so badly I almost tail-slapped myself into the sea.I'm pretty sure in that split second my facial composure broke completely,and my nostrils could've blown out a tidal wave.
But I'm a princess—poise is everything.So I smoothed my hair, fixed him with a level stare, and said:"How is it you again? Did you bring the pastries? The jewels?"
To his credit, he knew the drill.Out came a pile of jewelry, necklaces, and trinkets.Then—my favorite—strawberry cream mille-feuille.
And finally, a tiny, elegant bottle filled with shimmering liquid.
I raised a brow. "And this is…?"He smiled like he'd just invented romance."Oh, this is for your injury."
I flicked my tail. "But my injury's already healed."He shook his head. "This is different."
The moment he popped the cork, a wave of floral scent spilled out—and I knew instantly this was from the human world.No underwater flower could ever smell like this.
He carefully dabbed the oil over where my wound had been, murmuring:"This will make your skin even better, your scales shinier.Under the sunlight, they'll glow brighter, smoother than silk.Wherever you swim, you'll leave a trail of fragrance."
His touch was… surprisingly gentle.I just sat there, watching as he worked his way slowly up and down my glorious tail—
"Alright, alright, alright—hold it, buddy!
You've rubbed enough oil on me to deep-fry a whale!Another minute and my scales will start developing a patina!"
"Look, pal, I appreciate the gesture, but there's a limit. Stop rubbing, stop touching.It might not be a sensitive area, but a mermaid's tail—a princess's tail—isn't something you just get to paw at!"
I shot him a side-eye, thinking:—Keep this up and I swear I'll tail-slap you back to shore as a taxidermy exhibit.
Then I pushed his hand away, nice and firm.