Mermaid_ A Twist on the Classic Tale - Carolyn Turgeon [80]
A dozen other women sat playing games, reading, and sewing, scattered about the room like place settings for a feast.
Margrethe met the eyes of Astrid and stared, despite herself. Up close, she was even more stunning. There was something mesmerizing about her, almost familiar. Like someone she’d met in a dream. Her mind flashed again to Lenia. The unbearable beauty of the mermaid glimmering on the beach, the prince dying beneath her. The thought came to her again: she was beautiful like that, and Margrethe’s heart ached with the most terrible loss. A sense that she would never find such beauty again, in all the world. This girl had a hint of that same beauty to her. How could she, Margrethe, compete with such a woman?
“Welcome,” the queen said, and Margrethe tore her eyes away, hoping her face had not betrayed her.
She bowed. “Thank you,” she said. “We appreciate your hospitality, and I hope to return it one day.”
The queen nodded. “Join us, please.” She looked around at the women in the room. “We need to welcome my son’s betrothed.” She smiled at Margrethe then, but it was not the kind of smile that would make anyone feel warm inside.
Margrethe and Edele sat, awkwardly, a little away from the others, on chairs by a large window hung with colored glass. They picked up a deck of cards nearby and began to play.
The other women were talking, laughing. Margrethe noticed that Astrid did not say a word but seemed anxious. She was sewing, but fumblingly. Her hands were so perfectly formed and elegant, yet her movements were those of a child.
Edele, under her breath, said, “She is watching you.”
“Really?”
She looked at Astrid, straight on, and their eyes met. The girl’s burning blue eyes on her own. Margrethe looked away immediately, nervously. There had been something strange and pained in the girl’s expression.
“Well, I am here to marry her lover,” Margrethe said, surprised at the sense of triumph she felt saying the words. She had never had such a feeling before, tucked away in the study with Gregor, surrounded by books, in a castle where everyone adored her.
A viciousness rose in her. She needed this, she realized. Not only for her kingdom but for herself. She wanted to walk with him by the sea, bend over him the way the mermaid had done, her lips on his forehead. She wanted his heart as well as his hand in marriage, and she knew that, if he remembered her, just thought about her and those moments by the sea, he would forget anyone else. People said that Astrid couldn’t even speak. Despite the girl’s beauty, how could the prince love a woman who could not speak, who couldn’t laugh with him or challenge him, who couldn’t sing lullabies to the children she’d bear him? There she was, sitting at the queen’s feet, not saying one word, as the others chattered around her.
Margrethe hated the prince’s lover. The feeling flashed through her, nearly pushing her to her feet. She could have screamed with it.
“Do not let her fluster you, my friend,” Edele whispered.
Margrethe started, felt the color rise in her neck.
“Don’t be absurd,” she whispered.
Edele met her eyes. “Perhaps you should pay the prince a visit. That’s all he needs, you know. Go talk to him.”
Margrethe nodded.
A moment later, she stood. “I am feeling tired,” she said. “My lady and I will retire for the night.”
“As you wish,” the queen said, nodding.
To Margrethe’s annoyance, she thought she detected a smirk on the woman’s face, but she did not have time now to worry about the prince’s mother. Not until she had won him over.
AS SOON AS they left the queen’s wing, Margrethe turned to Edele, bursting with feeling.
“I’m going to him,” she said. “Now. You’re right. I will talk to him.”
“Good,” Edele said, placing her hands on her friend’s shoulders. “Remember: you are a princess, the most beautiful woman in the Northern kingdom. And slightly intelligent, too, even.”
Margrethe laughed, grateful at how Edele could always make her relax.
“He loves you,” Edele said, lowering her voice as a guard turned the corner and entered the corridor. “Now