Adrift: A Little Mermaid Retelling

27: Agnes

[A content warning: This part of Agnes's life is very dark, dear readers. Please bear that in mind if you choose to read further.]

Captain Dremmer did not expect his wife to live a life of leisure; he was a military man, and discipline was his chief concern. Tana might have managed cooking, cleaning, mending, and sewing on her own for herself and her master, but now, the captain was a married man. More comforts would be needful to suit his status; there would be more guests, more social obligations; his wife would require petticoats and dresses and chemises to keep her looking trim for him.

There was more work to be done than one woman could manage. I found all this enough of a challenge beginning the first full day of my marriage, but it was at dinner that night when my main duty as a wife was made clear: to bear a child.

"If we have a son, Wife, we shall name him Rem, after my father," Aroc told me, spearing a cube of pork with his fork.

I sat beside him. The weight of my inescapable future had settled around my shoulders, stifling me. The first night in his bed and the first day trailing behind Tana attempting to learn the running of a household—something for which I had never been prepared, even in the smallest measure—had left me overwhelmed.

I did not care what our son would be named. I did not care if we had a son at all. I opened my mouth to say as much with a spark of the rebellion that once had come so easily to me, but as I tried to shape the words, I found they would not come.

Aroc tilted his head at me, his gaze flitting down to my open mouth. "Are you quite alright, dear?"

I met his gaze, suddenly terrified. I stood up. He, a gentleman, stood too, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. He frowned at me as he set the napkin aside. "I have not excused you, Agnes. Sit down."

I stood there for a moment, wanting to run—wanting to leave the house, leave him and go anywhere—but as these thoughts raced through my mind, I found myself battling an urge to do as he said. As the seconds passed, I could not stand against it; my limbs moved without my consent, and I sat, my hands quivering on the edge of the table.

At first, I thought it must be the command of marriage. I had vowed to be obedient to him, and now I must. Then, I remembered when once Dannie had controlled me in just such a manner, and I grappled with the terrifying mystery.

Aroc gave me a look of mingled disapproval and curiosity as he, too, sat. "Nerves, dear? There's no need to be anxious. Soon enough, we shall have a son—and many more children besides, I hope."

The thought of children was not what frightened me, although I certainly had no wish to have them. I was so frightened of the strange command he seemed to have over me, though, that I simply said, "Of course, dear. And we shall name our son Rem."

I knew nothing of Aroc's father, and did not care to ask.

None of my nights were my own. Aroc had given me a chamber to myself, but he knocked each night at sundown as I was combing my hair. None of my mornings were my own, either; Tana came early with cold water for my basin, almost as soon as the sun was in the sky.

My only solace as I dressed for the day was that my hands were only hands, even when I washed my face. From the first day after my wedding day, I had been left in peace. I was so relieved, that first day, to see nothing but pale skin when I dipped my hands into my basin—no webbed fingers, no scales—that I stood alone in my room and cried.

I could not make sense of it. The transformations came and went. I could not afford to let my guard down; any day, I might slip into a bath and change into the monster that lurked inside my skin.