Ursula's Beginning

27. I want more

Flotsam and Jetsam drug Ursula to her morning appointment. Making herself presentable after her wild night had exhausted her. Cleaning her hair was such an ordeal, she had wrestled with the temptation to chop it all off on the spot. After that battle, she had no energy left to swim. She flung an arm over each eel and let them propel her to the palace.

The High Priest greeted her warmly and offered her a cup of something bitter and bracing.

"Drink all of it. You need it," he said. "I was there," he added in an ominous tone.

Ursula laughed. Ephram didn't joke around often, but she loved it when he did.

As she forced tiny bits of liquid medicine down her throat, she looked around Ephram's grand sitting room. It was larger than her entire house, and her eyes were drawn continually toward the towering bookshelves that lined one wall.

"Where would you like to begin?" he asked, gesturing that she be seated.

"I don't know. What do you wish to discuss, Venerable Ephram?"

"Everything."

Ursula gulped.

"First, I should say I am impressed by the self-sacrifice you displayed at the hearing. I am quite pleased that Triton is king."

Ursula nodded, holding her breath.

"But I want to know why you never came to me...or any of our folk...for help during this ordeal. You were clearly suffering, keeping secrets, evading our questions. Why, Ursula?"

"I didn't think anyone could help me."

Ephram's hoary eyebrows shot upwards. "When your tentacles were severed, you didn't think anyone from the temple could help you?"

"Ephram, I couldn't get to the temple. I was incapacitated."

"What happened that day? What happened, that you couldn't heal yourself? What became of your tentacles?"

Ursula looked away from his intense gaze. "It's difficult to speak of it."

He softened. "I imagine so. Can you try?"

She shook her head.

"If you can't tell me, I want you to talk with one of the nautili. Let them help you, so you can tell your story. Secrets are a burden. A poison."

Secrets are a burden. So true. Ursula began to cry, just a trickle. "I'll select a counselor today."

Ephram patted her back. "Very good. I want to know why you never reported Alphon's attack? Or the problems you were having with him before he assaulted you?"

"There were never witnesses for what was happening. And who could I report it to? The queen? Who hates me? What's the use? And once I got his knife and realized there was probably more where that came from, I wanted to use the element of surprise in exposing him, and to a much larger audience than just his mother. It just got very complicated, very fast and—"

"Shhh. One thing at a time. Queen Galataye does not hate you. Why do you believe otherwise?" The old priest poured her more of the loathsome drink.

"She's so cold. She connects me to all of the awful things she has endured lately. Losing her husband, then her firstborn. I don't feel she blames me for Nepp, but she certainly does for Alphon."

Ephram sighed. "I understand. She can't help but connect you to painful events and if you say she's cold, I believe you. But you're witnessing grief, Ursula, not hatred."

"You should've seen how she looked at me at the coronation feast last night."

Ephram laughed. "I think, in that case, you know why," he said gently. Jetsam and Flotsam looked up at their master, intrigued.