Ursula

Chapter 4 Dear Sister

Ursula

"Can you do that?" he asks. The merman's trepidation gets the best of him as he nervously looks around the cavernous room. This is what he gets for making deals with a witch. Although, maybe choosing the corpse of a leviathan as a lair wasn't such a bright idea after all. Not that I'd ever admit that aloud. His tail is practically shaking enough to cause a whirlpool as he floats around the entrance to the main body. I can tell he's eager to conduct our business and leave.
"Of course I can! You know who I am and what I can do. I'm here to help you, after all. Let me gather a few things..." I tell him to calm his nerves... and mine.
My practice on Vanessa earlier worked marvelously. I turned her muddy brown hair into a lush chocolate, thicker than before. Her eyes changed to a beautiful violet from the ashy blue eyes she was born with. Her nose was now petite and upturned, losing that bump she used to have. She really became a walking work of art, thanks to myself, of course. Some of my finest work, I'd say. A small part of me was jealous; I could have changed myself to look like how she does now. Maybe get rid of that mole that adorns my face below my lip on one side. There's a list of imperfections I would change if I had the gall. I've struggled enough with how I look. I know my tentacles are not the most flattering thing when surrounded by tails. I am also a bit heavier than some, try as I might to stay thin like every other merwoman. I can't help but look curvier than most. I want so dearly not to care anymore and be comfortable in my skin. I'm different, and a part of me used to hate that more than I do now. I have dark hair and haunting grey eyes. Most Atlantians have lighter hair and bright, colorful eyes. I suppose that's why some mermen sought my company. I was different, intimidating even. Perhaps I was a conquest to some. I've since stopped caring what other mermen thought of me. My heart belongs to only one now.
I must keep up appearances now more than ever; Mother wouldn't like it if I went and changed how I looked. The entire Atlantica will turn their eyes to me once Triton's and I's engagement is announced. My imperfections will be scrutinized even more than when I was a child. If I appeared as Vanessa now does, perhaps I would be accepted readily into the role. I unfortunately can't use my magic in this way to get what I want. I must rely on my smarts and what I can get from others' misfortunes. Even if Vanessa now mimics the beauty of Aphrodite, I cannot become like her.
"Now... where were we?" I tsk. "Ah yes, the deal. I do this—change your appearance to attract—who was it again? A beautiful merwoman?" I ask half hazardously as I shuffle through my things, looking for the right ingredients.
"I—I want to look stronger and more masculine—for Josephine—a merchant merman's daughter," he stumbles to say. I roll my eyes, still facing away from him, searching through the shelves as I grab the last of the items required for this spell. Thankfully, I had time to bring most of my ingredients and equipment to my new stead earlier with Vanessa.
"Ah, young love. What a wonderful and magical thing. I'm sure you two will be very happy together. Live out your days growing old together. Have children to raise and send off into the sea. What a dream come true... I'm afraid this comes at a price, you know?" I ask, turning to face him with a grin, throwing the objects I held with my tentacles into my newly acquired cauldron. Colors flash, and bubbles begin to form, rising out of the pot. Maybe I was too proactive to start my spell before he signed the contract; I knew he wouldn't back out. I could tell by the determination he had to meet me here. No sane merfolk would willingly enter here without being desperate enough. That's why I thought this to be the perfect place. What a brilliant way to determine whether someone was severe enough or not.
"Yes, I know, I'm willing to pay anything!" He pauses, looking down. "I love her. I have to do this before—before she marries another." His hands begin to tumble around each other, his forehead pressed into a hard line. He needed this more than ever, and I would happily oblige as long as I get a proper payment.
"If we have a deal, then sign here," I offer him a contract I conjured up on a scroll and a pen to sign his name. "You have exactly one month to marry this merchant's daughter, Josephine; by then, you will provide me with enough materials to stock up my supply of ingredients. I expect monthly contributions to ensure I stay stocked, I'm afraid."
"One month?!" he exclaims, pulling the hand away that was reaching for the pen.
"What? Don't you think your love is enough to win over your merwoman's heart within a month? I thought you truly loved her. True love wins all... as they say. I suppose I was wrong. Maybe I can't help you after all..." I move to turn.
"No, wait!" He rushes, grabbing the pen. "I'll do it! I can do it! One month, you say?" He signs his name. "I—I think I can manage that..."
"Excellent."

"Ursula, can you help me with my hair?" Morgana asks, staring into the mirror of her vanity, struggling with taming her wild hair.
"I will never understand how you can have a bad hair day—every day. We live in the water for Poseidon's sake. You'd think being constantly wet it wouldn't do this." My sister's hair had a knack for floating straight up. She hated it. Her hair was dark like mine but had dark mauve highlights in it.
"Can't you just help me? I don't need to hear more about how my hair is the worst," he huffs, crossing her arms.
"What are older sisters for? If not to help their younger sister tame her unruly hair." I swim over and begin to work her hair down. "What you need is more product in your hair. Something to weigh it down..." I grab a nearby bottle and, squeeze out the thick product into my hands, and working it through her hair.
My sister looks at me through the mirror and comments, "You know Mother doesn't approve of colored shadow."
I roll my eyes. "Yes, well, I'm trying something new." I look at myself through the mirror and see the blue shadow lining my lids. The color helps brighten my eyes and make them more appealing and less... dead. "Besides, Mother can't wipe it off me once I've walked into the grand room. It would cause a scene she very much wants to avoid."
"You'll hear about it later, you know."
"I think you should be more concerned with what mother will say to you. Red lipstick, Morgana? We both know red is my color," I tease.
"I—I—I just wanted to look—"
"I'm teasing Morgana. You want to look like your big sister; I'm flattered, really."
"Ursula—"
I gave her a look, lifting my brow, daring her to continue. It's no secret my sister is jealous of the attention I receive from our mother. I'm 'the favorite child,' 'everything comes easy to Ursula,' 'no one ever cares about Morgana, ' all arguments my baby sister has made. She has always lived in my shadow, and although I love her, she gets on my nerves with all her complaining.
"Mother is never going to give you the praise you want so long as you hide in my shadow," I tell her. I finish her hair, and it stays down... for the most part.
Morgana sighs, "Nothing I do is ever good enough. She's always asking, 'Why can't you be more like your sister, Ursula?' Always 'Ursula this' and 'Ursula that.' When does Morgana ever get a turn? How do I get out of your shadow when I'm constantly being forced into it?" She slides out of her seat and crawls over to the window.
"How else do you get rid of a shadow, then to shine brightly?" I told her.
"It's harder than you think, sister."
"Well, with that kind of attitude, of course it is. You'll never impress Mother if you continue to let yourself be in my shadow!" I exclaim.
Morgana rolls her eyes at me.
"Fine, if you're going to sit there and pout, I will head down to the grand room for the feast. I'm sure Triton is there waiting for me."
Morgana, still facing away from me, waves me off. "Go ahead; I'm sure Mother is waiting for you too. Eagerly boasting to everyone in the room about how her eldest daughter will be Queen of Atlantica someday."
As I began to walk out of the room, I stopped and turned to face her. "You know, I think your biggest problem is that you feel sorry for yourself. Maybe if you got out more, maybe took your head out of those grunions you've read a thousand times and actually did something, you wouldn't be sitting around pouting half the time about how you'll never be good enough. It's time you faced the music, sister, and realized that maybe you are the problem. It's not me. It's not mother. It's you, dear sister." With that, I leave to let my sister stew in her own misery.
I make my way down to the grand room. I see my mother off speaking to other families in court. Poseidon, off in a nearby crowd, engaged in deep conversations with other high-ranking officials. Prince Triton is nowhere to be seen, it appears. I narrow my eyes, looking through the crowd. Perhaps his lackey of a crab is somewhere nearby. A telling sign that Triton is not here is if his crab isn't as well. So, I began shuffling through a myriad of merfolk and looking for any signs of the prince.
I don't see any.
"Excuse me, have you seen the prince this evening?" I asked the closest servant. She holds a tray of hors d'oeuvres in one hand and a long napkin resting on her other arm.

"No, Ma'am. The prince hasn't arrived yet."