Adrift: A Little Mermaid Retelling

14: Daniel

The morning after Master Allore's funeral, I went out early to draw water. This had become my least favorite ritual of the day, because it reminded me sharply of the master and the mistress's deaths. But it had to be done, and I was the best one to do it.

I came up to the well with my buckets and lifted my head to scan the horizon. This was as much a part of my morning ritual as anything else—to see if there were clouds, to judge what the day might bring. I was surprised that morning to see a small figure standing in the distance on the other side of the road. She was silhouetted against the pale sky.

I left my buckets and started after Ness. She did not turn to look at me as I approached, nor even as I came up beside her. I looked her over, noticing her disheveled appearance, her exhausted face. The dark hollows beneath her eyes made her look thinner than she'd been. Her hair was uncombed and caught back in a ribbon that had slipped halfway down through the length of it. The wind coming up off the sea swept over the cliff, teasing strands of her hair up to float around her.

"Ness," I said.

She glanced at me, as if she truly had not noticed me until I spoke. "Hello, Dannie."

The way she looked at me, the way she was standing out there all alone at the crack of dawn, worried me. The memory of her mother diving naked off these cliffs a matter of days ago was impossible to push from my mind. "What are you doing out here? It's cold. Where's your shawl?"

I made to take off my jacket to put it round her shoulders, but she raised a hand and shook her head. "I'm fine. It isn't that cold."

I frowned, but dropped my hands. "You look tired, Ness. You should sleep."

She looked back out at the sea, pensive. "Do you suppose she'll wash ashore someday?" she asked. "Will someone find her body, do you think?"

The morbid thought turned my stomach. I hesitated. "I don't know. The sea is vast."

"Have you ever been out there?" she asked.

"No," I replied. "Father was a sailor once, but I've never been on more than a fishing boat. Never out to sea."

"I wonder what it's like," she said.

With a frown, I turned to follow her gaze. Past the steep drop of land upon which we stood, the water stretched out before us, gray and grim. I shook my head. "I imagine it's lonely," I said. "And cold."

Agnes smiled faintly and glanced sidelong at me. "Like here."

Her words hurt, I'll not deny it. Was she lonely? What about me? I had thought us friends. The sadness in her flat, gray eyes made my heart turn over. "I wish you wouldn't say that," I said. "You don't have to be lonely, Ness."

But I knew she was right. She was alone. Perhaps we had fancied ourselves friends, but we could not be, not truly. She was a lady, I a servant. I loved her, yes, but I knew it was foolish to love her. Nothing could come of it. Someday, some lord or wealthy merchant would take her to wife, and she and her music would be his.

Ness searched my face for a moment. "Why do you suppose they married, Dannie?"

I knew she meant her parents. A good question, but not one she could truly expect an answer for. "Why are you asking these things?"

Without answering me, she brushed her dark hair away from her cheek. The wind pulled it back into her face, and I had the urge to reach out and smooth it back for her. I stayed my hand. We stood in silence for a while, contemplating the sea, weighed down with the thoughts of what had happened in the house and how we could possibly move on from it.

Finally, Agnes turned toward me. I thought she meant to speak, so I faced her, but she didn't say anything. She reached up with her small white hands, placed them on either side of my face, and moved up onto her toes.

She kissed me full on the mouth.

I was surprised, but not so much so that I couldn't kiss her back. Heat flooded my face. My stomach turned over, then twisted itself into a confused knot. I raised one hand to brush her cheek and comb gently back into her hair.

She was the one who pulled away, and when she had broken the kiss, she looked up at me with guileless eyes as if to judge the effect on me of what she had done. Bewildered, I met her gaze.

"You're a good friend, Dannie," Ness said.

"I—" Could I tell her how I felt? Should I?

What was this? I was being a fool. If Wylliam or Cuthbert were to look out the window—if even Sorla were to see, crossing the fields from her husband's house ...

Agnes pulled away from me, her cool fingers brushing down from my cheek to my neck as she did. She walked back across the frozen ground toward the house, leaving me standing there.

After a moment, I made to follow her, raising one hand to touch my lips. As I did, I saw that the ribbon had come free from her hair and had tangled in my fingers. I looked down at it, a pretty green satin thing. I would give it back to her, but I would do it later. Later, after all this confusion had passed, after I could tell what she wanted from me.

I slipped the ribbon into my pocket. I walked slowly back to the house, allowing Agnes to move on well ahead so the space between us would widen, as it must.