Die Melusine - Chapter 28

The endless wait began once again. Anne hesitated over whether to call Melusine, who had been lingering near the door since sunset. She kept going back and forth about it.

“Miss Mermaid,” Anne eventually said.

“Hm?”

Melusine, who seemed lost in thought, flinched and turned around.

“The bathwater… it’s going to get cold.”

“Oh, should I… take it now?”

“I think that’d be best.”

“Okay… He didn’t call again today…”

Peeking through the slightly ajar door, Melusine craned her neck to glance wistfully at the silent corridor. It had been two days since the outing to town, yet Kieron had not summoned her.

In the meantime, Anne had been reprimanded by the head maid and even made to sign an agreement: she was never to act impulsively regarding Melusine unless directed explicitly by His Highness.

“Is this rose-scented? It’s so sweet,” Melusine said, closing her eyes as if savoring the floral fragrance that filled the castle’s halls.

“Yes, it’s quite strong, isn’t it? These come from nearby estates and even duchies overseas. The purple roses—this is the first time I’ve ever seen them!”

“Really?” Melusine nodded and closed the door, but her movements were slow and reluctant as she kept glancing back at the corridor.

The grand ducal castle was bustling with preparations for next week’s festival and the numerous banquets to come. The entire interior had been transformed into a massive greenhouse, adorned with colorful fresh flowers at every turn.

Even decorations and sculptures that Kieron had deemed too cumbersome and banished to storage were now being brought back and placed throughout the castle. Priceless silks from other duchies were draped over surfaces, and hundreds of gold candlesticks encrusted with jewels were arranged in the grand dining hall and reception rooms.

Melusine didn’t mind the liveliness of the castle, which was usually so quiet. What saddened her was that the one person she wanted to share this excitement with wasn’t by her side.

Weeks of cleaning and repairs were nearing completion. Every staff member was pouring their energy into the preparations, often sacrificing sleep. However, Anne was completely removed from these tasks after the incident in town. She was now solely responsible for guarding and tending to Melusine.

“Anne, can’t I… just this once?”

Melusine stopped in front of the bathroom and suddenly linked arms with Anne, resting her head on Anne’s shoulder and nuzzling gently, much like a cat seeking affection.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Anne asked nervously, dreading the possibility of another reportable incident.

“Can’t I go?”

“Go where?”

It had been only a few days since Melusine’s curiosity had caused a commotion. Anne wanted to refuse immediately—wherever it was—but held her tongue.

“To see Kieron…”

“You can’t!” Anne blurted out before she could stop herself. She was startled by her own reaction, while Melusine tilted her head in mild confusion.

She couldn’t understand. Why was she always the one waiting for him to call? Why couldn’t she simply go to see him if she wanted to?

“Why?”

Melusine pouted as she asked again, and Anne, helping her undress, pondered how to respond.

Thinking back, the mermaid had always been like this. Even when the Grand Duke didn’t call for her once, she continued to wait for him. She spoke, walked, and practiced for his sake.

If she were an ordinary noblewoman or a Triton noble, this relationship would clearly offer tangible rewards—a guaranteed trove of priceless jewels and gowns, along with the status of being the woman who shared even one night with the Empire’s second-in-command.

But Melusine, with her utter lack of understanding of such worldly considerations, couldn’t possibly be acting this way out of self-interest. It seemed she was simply… genuinely, purely sincere.

“If you wait just a little longer, I’m sure he’ll call for you. Then you can speak to him directly, Miss Mermaid,” Anne finally said, choosing her words carefully.

In her heart, Anne felt relieved that Melusine hadn’t yet been cast out. The lack of news after several days suggested that the “next time” Melusine was waiting for might never come.

Yet, the day Anne was reprimanded for taking Melusine to town, a glimmer of doubt crept into her mind. If they were planning to banish Melusine, there would have been no need to make Anne sign that pledge.

“Right? I’ll do that then!”

Sitting in the warm bathwater, Melusine splashed playfully, her face lighting up with a bright smile. Anne, unable to suppress her complex feelings, forced herself to smile back.

After all, that radiant smile of the mermaid—blue and sparkling like the morning sun glistening on the sea—was far too beautiful to ignore.

***

The garden in front of the annex felt barren, likely because all the flowers suitable for the banquet had been cut. Even as Melusine stretched her arms as far as she could, her fingertips brushed only bare branches.

“It just smells like grass now,” she murmured.

It seemed as if all the fragrance from the garden had been transported into the castle. Feeling a twinge of disappointment, she walked quietly across the lawn. The damp grass tickled her ankles with its cool, dewy touch.

Melusine recalled the day she had met Kieron here not long ago—the man whose golden eyes shone even with the sunlight at his back. She remembered the butterfly that had fluttered its wings after being caught briefly in his hand.

Though she knew he wasn’t far away, the inability to see him made her longing harder to suppress.

As she mused, her eyes fell on a flower lying on the ground. Its wide, white petals were delicately tinged with pink at the center, fragile and beautiful.

Anne had mentioned the name of this flower before. What was it again? Anea…?

Just as she crouched to pick it up, she sensed someone behind her. Could it be?

Her heart raced as she stood abruptly, turning with anticipation.

“Kieron?”

“Would you mind stepping aside? My lady needs to pass.”

“Huh?”

But it wasn’t Kieron. A middle-aged woman stood before her—someone Melusine had never seen before.

The woman, dressed in modest yet elegant clothing, furrowed her brow as she looked Melusine up and down, like someone inspecting an obstacle in her path.

“Ma’am, please, that’s impolite. And besides, I know her,” said a sweet, familiar voice from behind the older woman.

The voice belonged to someone Melusine recognized—the beautiful blonde young lady she had encountered in town.

“Ah, then she’s one of your attendants?” asked the older woman, who turned out to be the lady-in-waiting of Lady Estelle, the Marchioness of Hesnal. Her sharp eyes scanned Melusine, who stood frozen, wide-eyed.

To be honest, the first sight of Melusine had almost drawn an involuntary gasp from the lady-in-waiting. But to cover her surprise, she had deliberately put on a more severe expression.

Without any flashy jewelry or accessories, the woman’s stunning beauty was striking. Even for someone as seasoned in high society as the lady-in-waiting, this face was unfamiliar.

Judging by the outdated design and embellishments of her silk dress, she likely wasn’t from a prominent noble family. Her waist-length pink hair, casually left to hang, seemed exotic, adding to the mystery.

“Well… I’ve only met her once, but yes,” Lady Estelle replied with a radiant smile, meeting Melusine’s gaze.

Standing tall—whether from her heels or her natural height—Estelle looked down slightly at Melusine. From the pink-haired woman came a scent like flowers, mingled with a hint of vanilla, sweet enough to make one’s head spin.

The same irritation that had bubbled up when Estelle first saw this woman in Kieron’s arms in town resurfaced.

The pink-haired woman’s eyes, resembling the ocean Estelle had passed on her way to the Grand Ducal Castle, sparkled vividly. They stirred an inexplicable thirst that she couldn’t seem to quench.

“What’s your name? I think His Highness called you something… Mel…”

“Melusine!”

“Ah, that’s right. Such a unique and… beautiful name. How about we go for a walk?”

By “walk,” she likely meant strolling together, just as Melusine did with Anne every day. Melusine beamed and nodded eagerly, her enthusiasm overflowing.

Estelle’s smile, in contrast, wasn’t born of sincerity but was more like a garment of decorum—something put on to suit the occasion.

Still, even Estelle’s perfunctory hospitality thrilled Melusine. Her innocent delight was so radiant that it felt oddly grating to Estelle.

Walking at a slower pace to match Melusine’s, Estelle asked, “Which family do you belong to? Or should I ask which duchy you hail from? You don’t seem to be from the Empire.”

The words “family,” “duchy,” and “Empire” were familiar but still confusing to Melusine. She struggled to respond quickly.

“From the Kingdom of Clémond? Or perhaps McKillan?” Estelle ventured.

Melusine, understanding that Estelle was asking about her origins, replied simply, “The sea.”

“The sea? Oh, so you’re from across the sea? Another duchy, perhaps?”

Melusine’s childlike tone and slightly clumsy pronunciation had already clued Estelle in to her unfamiliarity with the Empire’s language. Still, most neighboring foreign lands considered fluency in the Imperial tongue a basic requirement—especially for women of noble upbringing.

Estelle tilted her head in puzzlement.

“The sea. From Vercez.”

“Vercez Duchy? That… wait, what?”

Estelle’s polite tone faltered, replaced by a startled exclamation. Normally, she prided herself on composure, but this time her shock overrode her etiquette.

“Vercez? The Vercez? Are you talking about the island of Vercez?”

“Mm-hm,” Melusine confirmed with a casual nod.

The mythical island of mermaids, said to lie in the middle of the ocean. Estelle had read countless childhood fairytales where Verses and mermaids often appeared.

She had lost count of the nights she fell asleep imagining shimmering mermaid scales glinting under the moonlight or tears of mermaids transforming into priceless gems.

While Estelle stood pale and speechless, Melusine crouched nonchalantly, rummaging through the grass as if entirely unaware of Estelle’s reaction.

That’s when Estelle noticed something—Melusine’s bare feet sticking out from under her skirt.

For the first time in her life, the refined Marchioness’s daughter felt a shiver run down her spine. A pink-haired woman, barefoot, with an unnaturally sweet scent that lingered in the air, now mingled with the faint tang of the sea breeze.

“This,” Melusine said, interrupting Estelle’s daze.

She smiled brightly, oblivious to the shock she had caused, and held something out to Estelle—a flower she had just plucked from the dirt. That’s what she had been searching for.

A white anemone with fluttering petals layered delicately around a dark, bead-like center, almost resembling a human pupil.

“It’s pretty, so… it’s a gift,” Melusine said, her tone as innocent as ever.

Estelle accepted the flower reflexively, and despite her trembling lips, she mustered a smile befitting a noblewoman of her stature—a skill honed over twenty years of rigorous training.