Die Melusine - Chapter 31

“Is Miss Melusine here?”

“Huh?”

Anne, thinking this might be the news she had been hoping for all day, flung the door open eagerly—only to realize something was off. No one in the Grand Duke’s castle would ever refer to Miss Mermaid as “Miss Melusine.”

“Melu… well, yes, but… what’s this about?”

Standing at the door was a young maid Anne had never seen before. Eyeing her suspiciously from head to toe, Anne narrowed her eyes.

“Miss Melusine is invited to the ball in the main castle. My lady has sent for her.”

“Invited?”

Anne snatched the invitation from the maid, her jaw dropping as she stared at the name written on the envelope and the purple seal stamped over it. This was what she had been waiting for all day—but the sender was the last person she would have expected.

Estelle von Hesnal.

The name of the Marchioness’s daughter, written in elaborate, swirling script that looked more like art than handwriting, was almost unbelievable.

“Who’s that?”

Melusine had sidled up to Anne, tilting her head curiously.

“I’ll let my lady know you’ll be attending,” the young maid said, bowing politely. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked away with swift, deliberate steps.

Anne and Melusine stood frozen, staring blankly at the maid’s retreating figure.

“What just happened…?”

Melusine took the envelope from Anne’s hands, turning it over and inspecting it from every angle. Her gaze lingered on the shiny, round seal in the middle. It smelled faintly pleasant.

Is it edible?

Before anyone could stop her, she stuck out her tongue and leaned forward to lick it.

“Miss Mermaid, don’t be surprised—you’re going to the party tonight!” Anne cried, nearly shrieking as she grabbed Melusine and hugged her tightly.

“Huh? A… party?”

In Anne’s excited embrace, Melusine tried hard to recall what a “party” was.

“You wear masks, gather together, and dance! It’s going to be amazing! And you’ll get to see His Highness too!”

Most of it confused her, but the last part lit up her face with delight.

“Really? Kieron? He’ll be there? I can see him?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Melusine grabbed Anne’s hands, and the two spun around the room several times in giddy circles. The world soon became a blur, but Melusine’s clear, radiant face blossomed with joy, her happiness as bright as spring flowers.

***

“Miss Mermaid, it’s time to go! You need to leave now!”

“I can’t. I can’t do this,” Melusine muttered, pushing away yet another pair of shoes. She had already rejected all five pairs Anne had prepared—each made of sleek silk with elegant pointed toes, every one beautiful.

“But you absolutely cannot go to the Grand Duke’s ball barefoot like always! It’s simply not allowed!” Anne insisted, her expression almost tearful.

Normally, Anne would give in after a bit of persuasion, letting Melusine do as she pleased. But this time, she stood firm.

“They hurt too much. I can’t walk in them,” Melusine complained, crossing her arms.

“Then how about these? The heels are the lowest out of all of them!”

Anne held up a pair of deep blue silk shoes, adorned with a rectangular jewel at the toe. They were flatter than the rest, with only a slight rise at the heel.

“Fine…” Melusine reluctantly nodded.

“Thank you! You’re the best, Miss Mermaid!” Anne exclaimed, quickly sliding the small shoes onto Melusine’s delicate feet before she could change her mind.

Melusine’s feet were unusually small, soft, and smooth—likely a result of her life in the water. They felt almost like a child’s, free of calluses or roughness.

Hand in hand with Anne, Melusine practiced walking back and forth across the room a few times. Though she found the sensation of the soles pressing against her feet uncomfortable, it wasn’t unbearable.

Anne stood back and surveyed her work with immense satisfaction. She had spent the entire day creating her masterpiece—Melusine’s transformation. Anne wanted everyone to be astonished by her Miss Mermaid’s beauty. To her, Melusine deserved nothing less than to be the most dazzling presence tonight.

But suddenly, a troubling thought struck Anne, a premonition that she had overlooked something crucial.

“Miss Mermaid… you do know how to dance, don’t you?”

“…Dance?” Melusine blinked her bright blue eyes innocently.

“Yes! Like a galliard, an allemande, or a minuet?”

Tapping the ground lightly with the heel of her shoe, Melusine tilted her head and asked, “Galli… what’s that?”

Oh no.

Anne realized with horror that all her hard work might have just gone to waste.

If only I had taught her to dance beforehand! But wait—how could I? I don’t know how to dance either!

Anne quickly shifted to damage control. “If someone approaches you and offers their hand to dance, just smile and laugh politely! Say you’re feeling too dizzy to join them—oh, like this!” She mimicked placing a hand lightly against her forehead, pretending to swoon.

Carefully, Anne fitted the mask she had prepared for Melusine over her face, adjusting it to sit perfectly around her eyes. The mask, adorned with lace and beads, was much more elaborate than the plain one the castle had provided, and it complemented Melusine’s deep blue eyes beautifully.

“There. Perfect.”

“Where’s Kieron?”

“What?”

“If Kieron… if he asks me to dance?”

Anne froze. All her meticulous planning seemed to unravel at that single question. She swallowed hard, trying to think of a response.

“Ah…”

The idea of the Grand Duke dancing made Anne shiver as she tried to imagine it. She quickly stopped.

Balls were rare in the Grand Duke’s castle, maybe once a year if that. Unlike other noble families, who endlessly hosted hunting parties, greenhouse teas, or grand galas, Kieron devoted his brief stays at the castle to drills and administrative upkeep.

“But they say he dances incredibly well,” Anne murmured, recalling the stories that had circulated last year after the engagement ball at the Imperial Palace.

The maids had spoken about it for weeks—how the Grand Duke, dressed in a white tailcoat instead of his usual uniform, had appeared so radiant that it seemed light itself had gathered around him.

“Of course,” Melusine said simply.

“What?”

Anne blinked, surprised by how naturally Melusine used the phrase. Where had she learned it?

“Kieron… he’s good at… everything.”

Melusine’s cheeks turned pink as she spoke, her gaze lowering in shy embarrassment. Anne couldn’t help but laugh softly at her innocent expression.

“Well, yes! Our Grand Duke is just like that.”

Still, Anne found herself unable to get used to how Melusine casually referred to him by name. If she stayed at the castle longer—and Anne was beginning to suspect she would—there were a few things Melusine would need to learn, like how to use proper titles and eat with a fork.

Melusine turned back to the mirror, staring at her reflection. After a moment, she sighed softly.

Her initial excitement about seeing Kieron again faded as she took in her altered appearance. The face looking back at her was unfamiliar, adorned with the makeup and ornaments Anne had applied. The colorful ribbons and feathers in her hair, while lovely, felt heavy and uncomfortable.

The dress, too, was far heavier than anything she was used to. She couldn’t help but think of the last time she’d worn something similar. She had been in Kieron’s bedroom, and he’d torn it off her. The memory made her heart flutter with a confusing mix of heat and unease.

What if I don’t see him tonight? What if he doesn’t call for me tonight—or ever again?

It was her first human festival, but she didn’t feel entirely happy.

Unbidden, the words from Kieron’s fiancée in the garden resurfaced in her mind. The warning had been clear: if Melusine bore his child, both she and the baby would die—by Kieron’s own hand.

Why would a baby’s life be a reason to die? Do humans hate when mermaids have their children? Is that why all my sisters hurried back to Verses?

No, Melusine knew better than anyone that wasn’t the reason.

Maybe it’s because Kieron is special. Because he’s the master of this great castle.

Her chest tightened, as if it were filling with seawater. She wanted to ask Kieron directly, but no matter how much she longed for answers, she had no way of reaching him unless he came to her first.

She shook her head and glanced at the mirror again.

On her neck, faint but unmistakable, was a mark from the night Kieron had bitten her. The memory of his movements, filling her and tearing her apart all at once, sent a shiver through her body.

He had planted his seed in her that night. She was sure of it. He wouldn’t have done so otherwise.

That was enough for her.

Estelle’s words must have been a misunderstanding. Melusine’s Imperial speech was still clumsy, after all.

“Kieron…”

His name, now almost a spell, lingered on her lips as she whispered it softly.

No matter how much she thought about it, she still couldn’t make sense of it all. The human world, its endless stream of events and words, remained a puzzle to her.

In moments like this, Melusine chose to hold onto one thing.

Her honest heart, her unmistakable feelings. The unbearable longing to see that man again, the uncontrollable pounding of her heart that yearned to be enveloped once more in his vast embrace.

She didn’t want to simply let things drift aimlessly.

Melusine knew exactly why her emotions swelled, like waves crashing over her, relentless and untamed.

Kieron. Her Serenhide.

Tonight, when she saw him, there was something she desperately wanted to confess.