The cozy mood does nothing to chase away my sleepiness, adding a few extra pounds to my heavy eyelids. Same as before, everyone gawks at me without shame as we pass. The difference now is a few actually smile in greeting or bow out of respect. Nausea, which moments ago wreaked havoc on my stomach, lessens and I suck in a deep breath, my gills contracting in response. Maybe the spectacle of a half-human princess will wear off quicker than I thought. Many are fixed up fancier and more extravagantly than they were earlier. One young mermaid is covered entirely in scales, real and painted. It’s hard to discern where the tail ends and the torso begins. A merman passes with starfish woven into his flowing hair, then another with neon pink curls. The odd sights are so interesting and I ignore the urge to gawk. The hall we enter is another immense, beautiful space filled with stone tables and matching chairs. Jars of luminous fish sit on each table, casting shadows on the walls. Desma escorts me to the front, where my father is.
