I heard my personal maid enter at some point. My head lolled towards her, my eyes wide and unblinking. Had I slept at all? I wasn't sure. I remembered laying in the candle light, wondering if the prince was vile enough to come into my room in the middle of the night and breed me before we were even married. I had no idea what I would do if he did, but I knew that I could not make myself vulnerable. The candle burned itself out, dying in a pool of wax. By then, the sun had started to peek in through the windows.

"Oh, you're awake," my maid murmured, dropping into a little curtsey.

I just watched her.

"And you're still in your dress," she whispered, her brow furrowing. She must have seen my weary features, the dark rings under my eyes, because she gave me a comforting smile and cocked her head to one side. "It can be stressful to sleep in a new place, especially when you get to meet your betrothed the next day. Come, let's get you into the bath and ready to meet your prince."

I felt no shame when my maid undressed me. I had grown up in close quarters with my sisters, after all. If anything, having her there made me feel less vulnerable. I was taken to the secondary room that I had seen before as a dozen women came bustling in, all carrying metal buckets filled with steaming water. Each bucket was poured into the tub in the center of the room. 

"What is that?" I asked, pointing to the strange contraption on the side.

"A toilet," my maid said excitedly.

"A what?"

"It replaces a chamber pot. You just pour a bucket of water on top and the waste is taken away. They're very new, but the king insisted we have them right away."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful," I agreed.

"And, obviously you've seen a bathtub before."

"Of course."

In truth, I hadn't. We had no need for one, as far as the other sirens were concerned. They could waddle into waist deep water in the middle of winter and the ocean would warm for them. All of their grime was washed away in comfort while I shrieked and whimpered and shivered as each wave touched me. Though, in fairness, when our sanctuary had been built, not even my own mother had been aware of my lack of powers.

So, when I sank into the warm water, I pretended that I had been used to this kind of treatment all my life. 

"Here, let's add some lavender oil to help release the stress."

The second those few tiny drops of fragrant oil hit the water, my head tipped back and my eyes shut. Surrounded by a dozen women whose only task was pampering me, I finally felt safe enough to doze. 

Sadly, I wasn't allowed to sleep long enough to recover from my stressful night. I was pulled out of the water, dried off with fluffy towels, still half asleep. But when my maid got me in front of my own looking-glass, I realized once again what she was prepping me for.

I was going to be meeting the prince that I was supposed to marry in less than a month. 

The prince who was going to toss me aside as soon as I gave him an heir. Or dispose of me in some other way. 

Getting dressed was quite an affair. The little cabinet that had been empty last night was now filled with what seemed like hundreds of dresses. Layers of various white fabrics were put on and strapped to me. Then a simple blue dress slipped over top of it all. I assumed I was done, but another two layers were added, each heavier than the last. In the end, I was already sweating beneath layers of pink, blue, and white.

I should have been in awe that they could waste so much on a single person, but I just stared at myself, thinking that this periwinkle blue dress must not have been designed for me. It looked positively heinous against my dark skin and somehow, all the frills covered me up too completely. The dress made it impossible to look upon my face, to see my smoldering brown eyes for what they were or my dark lips.

Maybe that was the point. Maybe my sisters had been right and I was not the definition of beauty here. Beauty was subjective and ever evolving. I might have been a goddess of sorts from wherever my mother and I had been rescued, but here, I might have been hideous.

My long dark hair was twisted up into some kind of fashionable updo that I also hated, just as there was a knock on the door.

"Oh, the prince is finally here!" my maid gushed, leaving my hair to give my shoulders a tight squeeze. She left me to fling open the door. I heard her soft voice, "Oh, your majesty."

I stayed perfectly still, my body tight with anxiety. This was it. I was meeting my future husband, the man that was supposed to help me reintegrate my sisters back into society. The man who wanted nothing to do with me.

But, in the mirror, I saw the queen.

I spun immediately and dropped into a curtsey. 

"Good morning, are you ready for your tour?" she asked, smiling a tiny grin.

"I'm waiting for the prince, actually," I explained.

"Oh, were you not informed? The prince is busy today. I will take you on your tour to get you comfortable with the palace in his stead. As long as your...situation has been handled."

"The prince is too busy to meet his future wife?" I blurted, a little too hotly, oblivious to her discomfort.

All of the politeness fell away from the queen's expression and I wanted to bit back the words, though I felt they were valid. There was something icy about her, even in her softer silences. 

"Prince Leo will meet you when he is able. I hope you can respect that he is a busy man and be patient, like any eager bride. He will be king, not a commoner which means you will not always be his first priority."

I swallowed hard and bobbed my head once. I wondered if all of those tales about men leaving their thrones behind, abandoning their families, were too good to be true. 

The majority of the tour felt like one giant opportunity for the queen to flaunt. I quickly learned that the castle was in the shape of a circle, the center an open garden, and to my delight, a babbling fountain. But, even with the gaping hole in the middle, the palace was massive and the queen was delighted to tell me about each detail. She showed me the grand room, the play room, the covered terrace, the conservatory  filled with exotic blooms, the west wing that was much like the east wing. 

Every time she showed me a new room, I was baffled. None of these were staff quarters. None of these were for commoners to use. At the very most, they were for entertainment or for relatives that occasionally visited. Rooms and spaces for people who weren't even permanent residence.

And it was such a damn waste. My sisters and our mothers and our grandmothers could not fill all the places at the dining table, could not take up all the sitting place in the drawing rooms.

But, when I was finally released outside, I became excited again. A natural spring fed the fountain in the courtyard. I could smell it. And I needed a reminder of home, no matter how small. The queen noticed how I perked up and began babbling more intensely about things like the orange grove- which I now detested- and the apple orchard nearby. I nodded along, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fountain as we strolled idly. Sadly, she decided that my enthusiasm should be geared towards her flowers, a new hybrid that she and her gardener had come up with.

And that's when I saw the very thing I feared.

Well, I suppose I heard it first. It was the distinct sound of a woman whimpering that made me pause, unconcerned with the queen who walked on, still talking. And when I heard a sharp wail, I followed my ears and began running, though it only took me a few paces and dodging behind a bush to see what was going on.

"Keep your hands out!" a man bellowed, right in the middle of the courtyard. His face was a frightening shade of red. Veins were apparent on his forehead.

A woman, barely older than me, quivered before him. Her pale face was streaked with tears and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Still, she did as he ordered, her trembling hands extended before her. I watched her lower lip shake and her eyelids squeeze shut.

The man raised a thick cane above his head, cracking it down upon her delicate palms and fingers.

She screamed and jerked her hands away instinctively. 

"Hey!" I shouted, rushing towards the pair. This was absurd, how were the guards watching this and doing nothing? How were other women just walking by and turning a blind eye as if nothing was happening? The man raised the cane again, paying no mind to me. "Stop that!" I ordered.

But I was not a normal siren and I could not compel people, no matter how hard I tried. 

And, a hand wrapped around my wrist, jerking me backwards before I could intervene physically. I stumbled backwards, barely able to keep my balance before turning around, ready to deliver a wind of fury.

The queen was faster. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed in my face.

"Someone needs to help her. He's hurting her!" I shouted, trying to wriggle free. Was she blind or just too obsessed with her damn flowers?

"He is disciplining his wife, as is required. She must have misbehaved. Not that it's any of your concern. You do not meddle in others affairs, is that understood?" she warned.

I wanted to protest. I wanted to argue and wriggle free of her grasp. I wanted to jump on that man's back and claw at his face until he relented. 

But what would happen to me then? Would I be punished? I didn't have a husband, but did that mean that someone else would make a show of my disobedience?

"Come," the queen ordered, her voice returning to normal.

I felt that I had no choice but the scamper after her, continuing on our tour. As she pointed to the guards' equipment shed, I listened to the woman wail. When she explained the guards' shift I blinked back tears, hurting so badly for a girl I had never met.

I remembered all over why I hated this world and that sour oranges were the least of my problems.

~~~Question of the Day~~~

What book or series would you like to see turned into a movie or movies?