Sharp blades of agony shot through Ares with every time his feet made contact with the ground. Each step felt as if it fell on broken glass. The pain was excruciating, making his eyes water and his new lungs struggle for breath. Was it because he was walking on fresh skin, on limbs that had never had the chance to build muscle mass or practice movement? Or was this another of Proteus's 'payments' - like the one he'd cackled after Ares had drank the potion.

The one that made his heart drop into his stomach as he looked at Erica now.

Three weeks. He had three weeks for Erica to fall in love with him, otherwise the potion would become poison, and Ares's life would vanish like his tail. He couldn't even think about it.

He shouldn't have too. This was meant to be the happiest moment of his life - he was here. On land. On legs. Beside the princess he'd spent months thinking about.

He couldn't wait to fill in the gaps in his knowledge. Ten minutes together on the beach and he already knew that she was brave and kind, because of the way she'd dashed to his aid. The sadness that had been clear in her late night distress was even more acute up close: her eyes were shadowed with grief, her skin pinched. And she was thin; her limbs wasting away from disuse. They should have been far stronger than Ares's own newborn legs, but instead she seemed to be struggling to support him, her own breath as laboured as his own.

When they reached a small emerald door, Erica cursed. "They're locked," she added at the startled look on Ares's face. "From the inside. By royal guards. We'll have to keep knocking until someone notices us."

Ares's lips had already started forming a response before he remembered that he couldn't utter it. He settled for nodding instead.

He'd never really thought about how much he relied on his voice before; it felt as if a vital part of him had been stolen. The pain of its absence was worse than the agony of his steps.

Short of sitting down on the sand and writing out his response, he had no way to communicate with the princess other than with his facial expressions. He wished he'd learnt sign language - assuming the motions they used beneath the waves were even the same as they used on land.

It didn't take long for the door to be pulled open, hinges groaning under rust and disuse. The guards on the other side looked startled to see their princess, their eyes widening in shock, but neither of them questioned her presence on the other side of the wall. They stepped aside silently so that she and Ares could pass by them.

"Do you require any assistance, your Highness?" One asked, gesturing to the way she supported Ares's body with her own. Ares braced himself for her acceptance, ready to be passed to an unknown guard and carried away from the princess who unknowingly held his life in her hands.

"No, I'm fine, thank you." Ares's eyes widened, mirroring the soldiers' shock. Erica was going to escort him to the palace herself - seemed determined to, despite the sounds of protests the two guards made. "You may return to your posts," Erica said, waving them away. "Thank you for your assistance with the door."

She lead Ares through a city that had been constructed of sand. Warm, brown buildings towered three or four stories into the air, walls inlaid with shimmering shells, windows small and deep and filled with green glass. It was as if someone had taken the most beautiful parts of the sea and displayed them on land, free of water and salt. It was stunning. Ares's felt more at home in these sand strewn streets than he ever had beneath the waves.

Above him, the sun beat down, kissing his skin - dry for the first time in his life. The sky was a perfect, cloudless blue. This far from the wall, he could barely even smell the sea. Despite the absence of his voice, despite the pain shooting through him with every step, despite the deadline hanging over him like an expectant knife, Ares was happy.

So happy that he didn't realise how close they were to the palace until Erica pulled to a stop.

"Oh," she exclaimed, her voice soft. Ares raised an eyebrow, the only way he could think to ask her what was wrong. "I was going to take you through the main doors, but there are people everywhere." She was right: a large crowd had congregated outside the palace walls, all shifting impatiently and muttering to each other. Ares was amazed they could focus so entirely on each other with the Merpolia palace before them. The city streets - which had seemed so beautiful only a moment before - now seemed drab and dull in contrast to the structure before him. It towered to the sky, with peaks and turrets topped with shells of gold and silver. Its walls looked to delicate to stand, yet too firm to topple. The glasswork was a multi-toned mixture of blues and greens, which seemed to swirl in their frames like the sea they reflected. The same intricate detail had been rendered on the palace doors.

Erica didn't seem to notice that her home had taken Ares's breath away. "They're all stood around waiting for something," she continued, tutting in frustration. "Come on, we'll use the side door and then find out what's going on from someone inside."

"Erica, I've been looking everywhere for you." The man who strode towards them was tall and thin, his face marred by the same grief that filled Erica's own. "Oh, you have a ... friend with you." His nose wrinkled, displeased.

"This is Ares, I rescued him on the beach-"

"The beach?" He cut her off, the displeasure on his face deepening. "What were you doing on the beach?"

"I was on the wall and I-"

"The wall?" An eyebrow raised. Ares had the impression that he was witnessing a discussion that he ought not to be. But the ire in the man's voice, the fury that seemed to radiate from his skin, made him pleased that he was. He'd had enough run-ins with his own mother to know that she was always easier on him in public. It had possibly saved his life the day she found the hair clip - destroying Erica's own in the process. Guilt flooded through him. He shifted, bringing the man's attention away from Erica and back to the stranger in the castle.

"We will finish this discussion later. Right now, I need you to hurry to the steps; I have a proclamation to make before the people."

Erica looked at the man in confusion. "A proclamation? What about?"

His eyes shuttered. "If you'd been in the castle as you were meant to, you would already know. Now you will have to wait and find out along with everyone else. Hurry up. Your friend can watch from the bottom of the steps."

"He needs a doctor!"

"It can wait."

Before Erica could say anything more, he'd swept through the double doors to the waiting crowd beyond.

Erica looked after him, her jaw slack. Ares wasn't sure what to do. He clearly wasn't welcome in the castle at the moment, but if he left now, he might not be allowed back in, and he only had three weeks to - somehow - convince a girl who's life he'd destroyed to fall in love with him. It was ridiculous. He may as well give up now and resign himself to his fate. He'd gotten himself into this mess, after all. It was no one's fault but his own. He'd got what he wanted - his legs. He should leave Erica alone and make the most of what time he had left on land.

But the broken look on Erica's face - the look he was responsible for - kept him at her side. He gestured towards the doors.

She bit down on her lower lip. "No. You need to see a doctor. Whatever that was can wait."

Ares gestured to the doors again - this was more important. He'd be fine. He shook his head. When she still wavered, he took a step towards the door.

Whatever the announcement was, they could listen to it together.

"The time has come for me to step aside," he uncle said, to a chorus of shocked gasps from the crowd. "This job was never meant to be mine, and my late-wife and I did it as best we could for the years we had together. Now that she is gone, I wish to retire from private life and live the rest of my time in peace." Ares watched Erica as he spoke. Tears shone in her eyes. She hadn't expected this at all, and the quivering of her balled fists suggested she was struggling to keep it together.

Even standing still was agony; it felt as if knives had been pushed into the sole of his feat, pain spearing up his legs, so acute he almost crumpled. To have feet - and legs - for the first time in his life and to have tears in his eyes every time he tried to use them. It was a cruel irony.

Erica's uncle shifted. "I hope to step aside within a month." More gasps. A few people looked towards Erica, their expressions sceptical. Ares thought he could see why; the young princess looked too frail, too heartbroken, to take on such responsibility so soon. "However, I will not leave my niece to rule alone. Invitations have been sent out to neighbouring kingdoms, inviting all eligible young princes to compete in a contest for Erica's hand. I am delighted to announce that four delegates will arrive tomorrow and the first contest will take place immediately. The winner will be her husband, to rule Merpolia alongside her. Thank you for your time."

Before any of the people crowding the steps could ask him further questions, the regent turned and reentered the palace.

He didn't even glance at his niece.

Didn't look towards her as she fought to keep herself from unraveling in front of the expectant, questioning crowds.

"Are you ready to become queen?"

"What will the challenges entail, Princess Erica?"

"Is there anyone you're hoping enters? Perhaps someone you met at school?"

"I hear Prince Snowdon is quite the catch."

Erica blinked, frozen in place before a sea of questions. Ares acted on instinct, taking her hand in his and guiding her back towards the door. Her fingers were like ice, her hand shaking in his. He couldn't even begin to imagine what must be rushing through her mind. His mother was cruel, but she kept herself well out of her children's love lives - and she had no plans to relinquish her throne to any of them; it wouldn't surprise Ares if she attempted to continue her rule from beyond the grave.

He rubbed a finger over the back of her hand, expecting her to pull away at every moment. Instead, she leaned into him, seeming thankful of the support he offered.

When the door was shut behind them, Erica slumped against the wall. Ares tried not to look disappointed as she pulled her hand back from his - not in disgust - just so she could clutch her head, pulling at her dark chair.

She was muttering under her breath, the words too low and rushed for Ares to make out.

Words stung the back of Ares's throat; all the comforting things he wanted to say were stuck. He didn't even have anything to write on. All he could do was be here, be present, and hope she didn't push him away.

She'd closed her eyes, rubbing the base of her palms into them as if she could rub away what she'd just encountered.

"Oh," she said when she looked at Ares again. "The doctor. I promised to get you to the doctor." Her voice quivered. "Please forgive me, I... I don't know what came over me." She was rubbing her eyes, sniffing away her tears. Embarrassment coloured her cheeks. "I'll... I'll take you to him now." She smoothed down her dress, which was rumpled and sand covered after everything that had happened that day.

Before Ares could respond, she swept off along the corridor, leaving him to follow. She was trying to hide her tears, to take a moment to compose herself. Ares had seen Lilaea pull this trick enough times to know he should trail a few metres behind, giving her the space to think, to come back to herself.

The doctor had no solution to the pain in Ares's legs. He was as confused as Erica, but keen to take a closer look the following morning, which was fine with Ares if it gave him a reason to return to the palace. He also gave Ares a small black board and a white stick which he called chalk, giving Ares a means of communication.

But despite the board, they began their walk back through the palace in silence.

"I..." Erica started, then paused to clear her throat. "I could find you a room, in the palace, if you'd like? We have a lot of space and, well, Merpolia isn't used to visitors anymore. All of the inns have closed their rooms. There isn't really anywhere else to stay and... I know it sounds silly... but I found you on that beach, and I'd really like to make sure you're alright."

She was babbling. Nervous. Ares didn't need to use the board or the chalk. He nodded his head, joy shining in his eyes. She wanted him to stay.

"Great. I'll go and find Carla - she's in charge around here really - and she'll find you somewhere inhabitable..." Erica trailed off, her face paling as she beheld the room the stood outside. The open door. The man hunched over a desk inside.

Ares pulled to a stop outside the prince regent's study. Give me one minute, he wrote, then entered the room before Erica - or his own nerves - could stop him.

I want to compete.

The man looked up from the board, grey eyes meeting his.

"Impossible," he said, returning to his paperwork.

Ares's wasn't going to give up so easily. He'd come too far, sacrificed too much, to give up at a single world. He tapped the sign.

The regent shook his head. "My niece must marry a prince."

I am a prince. The words were scrawled, written in haste. It was the truth, after all. His kingdom may not be recognised by the people of Merpolia; he may be an outcast among his own family, but he was still a prince.

The regent scoffed. "Do you have any one who can prove your claim?"

Ares thought for a moment. His sister would, but he'd never get her to come to the surface to do so, and bringing Lilaea here would reveal who - and what - he truly was.

He shook his head.

"I didn't think so."

Ares couldn't think what else to say. He couldn't prove his claim. Couldn't argue with a man who wouldn't even look up from his work for long enough for Ares to write something that might change his mind.

That was it. The regent didn't even bother to dismiss Ares, he just returned to his work, behaving as though Ares wasn't even there.

Ares left the room with his head held high, pain punctuating his every step, and tears beading in his eyes. 

{Thank you for reading. Please vote and comment to let me know what you think of the direction the story is taking.}