It had been three months since Ariel had given birth, and every day the nannies brought the babies to the parlor in the afternoon for her and Eric to "visit" with. For three months, this daily ritual had consisted of Eric holding Melody for a few minutes while Ariel watched, ignoring the nanny's attempts to get her to hold Michael. It wasn't that she liked that her son was being ignored, but she just couldn't bring herself to hold him. He was so small, so delicate, so squirmy. And when she glanced at him—or Melody—she still felt nothing. And that angered her a bit. They were her babies. Why couldn't she love her babies? What was wrong with her? Even Eric clearly felt some kind of connection to Melody. Sometimes when he held her, he actually smiled—something very rare indeed.

Ariel wasn't sure why Eric seemed to favor Melody over Michael. Michael was his heir after all. It would stand to reason that Eric would prefer him, that he would spoil and coddle him, but that wasn't the case. Honestly, Eric barely seemed to realize Michael was alive.

"Poor Michael must be the most unloved future king there's ever been," Ariel had once heard one of the nannies whisper to the other.

Sadly, that was probably true.

Today, when the nannies arrived with the twins in tow, Eric reached for his daughter as per usual. He rocked her in his arms a bit, looking enamored, and Ariel felt slightly ill. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't she have that with her children? She wanted that.

And so she found herself reaching out her arms to the nanny holding Michael, who responded only by gaping at her in shock.

"I would like to hold my son, please," Ariel said.

Wordlessly, the woman handed her the baby.

And for the very first time, Ariel held one of her children.

She gazed down at him and he blinked up at her. Then he opened his mouth and began to giggle.

Ariel felt her heart flutter in her chest. And then she fell more deeply in love than she had ever thought possible.

Eric watched as Ariel held Michael, her eyes widening with delight as the baby began to giggle. She glanced over at him, grinning widely and at first he thought he had to be hallucinating. He couldn't remember the last time Ariel had looked at him with anything other than contempt.

"He's perfect," she said, gesturing down at Michael. Her gaze shifted to Melody, who had fallen asleep in his arms. "They both are, aren't they?"

"We did a pretty good job making them," he replied. "Maybe someday we can make another one."

Eric wasn't completely sure what made him say it, and he expected her to react to this statement with anger or disgust. They hadn't been together like that in ages. She seemed to want nothing to do with him.

But instead she smiled almost flirtatiously. "Maybe someday," she murmured.

She turned her attention back to Michael, and Eric found it difficult to take his eyes of her. Motherhood suited her, it seemed. Somehow she looked even more beautiful than usual.

When Ariel was bored, she usually went for a walk along the beach, sometimes with Andy, sometimes with Flynn, and sometimes just by herself. It didn't matter how much time she spent there, the ocean was always the most comforting and most familiar thing in her life. She never tired of being near it, of smelling it, of feeling the sand between her toes and the water nipping at her heels.

It was March. Reissa had a fairly warm climate, but it was still a bit cool out. Not cool enough to keep Ariel away from the beach however. She simply wrapped herself in her warmest shawl and made sure she didn't go too close to the water.

On the way home, she took the long way, the route that led all the way around the castle, past the stables and sheds and whatever else. She always wanted to put off returning to the castle for as long as possible. How was she supposed to live there the rest of her life, cooped up in that dreadful place? Sometimes she didn't think she could make it another day.

She sighed, coming to a stop in front of a small garden shed, leaning against it to rest for a moment as she stared up at the looming structure she was supposed to call home. It was a beautiful castle, but there was just something about it that never felt quite right.

A thumping sound from within the shed pulled her from her thoughts. She took a step back, startled. What was going on in there? Perhaps a raccoon had gotten inside and was wreaking havoc. She pushed open the door and peaked inside.

But the sight that greeted her inside the dark little room was not a raccoon, or any animal for that matter. It was Eric in a rather compromising position.

Now, Ariel knew that Eric was involved with other women. She neither expected nor particularly desired for him to be faithful to her. It didn't make her angry or jealous. Probably because she barely even considered him her husband. Yesterday, when she'd first held Michael, she and Eric had shared at bit of a moment. But that had been the first bit of friendly interaction they'd has in ages. She wasn't even sure why it had happened, why she had responded to him so flirtatiously. It must have been the good mood that connecting with her baby for the first time had put her in. Because she loved Flynn, not Eric. And she knew Eric didn't love her either.

And that was why the most shocking thing about what she was seeing in that little shed was the fact that her husband was having intercourse with someone that wasn't her. It was that her husband was having intercourse with a man.

She froze for a moment, as her brain tried to fully register what she was seeing. Was this something that happened? Two men? Together? She'd never heard of such a thing.

Eric's eyes met hers, widening in surprise.

"Shit!" he exclaimed loudly, shoving the other man away from him.

"Sorry!" Ariel squeaked, backing away. "I'm sorry. I….I…Sorry!"

She turned, hurrying toward the castle. Behind her, she heard Eric shout her name. He sounded angry. She glanced over her shoulder. He was standing the doorway of the shed, still trying to get his trousers back on. She kept running.

He found her not too long after. She was in her room, sitting on the bed, waiting for him. She knew he'd come find her. It the kind of thing a husband and wife should talk about – the wife walking in on her husband and another man going at it a garden shed.

She hadn't, however, expected him to come storming in looking as angry as he did. She had thought he would be embarrassed, ashamed maybe…But not like this…

"Eric," she said, as he paused a few feet away from her bed, his eyes flashing in a way that made her shrink back slightly. "What I walked in on, it doesn't—"

She was going to say that it didn't matter. She didn't care. He could do what he wanted with whomever he wanted. It made no difference to her if he had sex with men in garden sheds.

But she didn't get a chance to say any of that – or anything for that matter – because he cut her off before she got the chance.

"You can't tell anyone what you saw!" he snarled. "Not a single fucking person, you hear me?"

She stared at him, shocked.

"DO YOU HEAR ME?" he roared.

Eric was an ass more often than not, and they'd had their fair share of arguments, but she'd never, ever been scared of him before. In that moment, however, she was downright frightened. A vein in his forehead throbbed as his face grew redder and redder. He looked like he could explode at any second.

She shrank back farther, trying to make herself as small as possible. "Yes," she murmured. "Eric, I'm not going to tell anyone, I swear. I don't—"

He grabbed her arm, yanking her up from the bed. She let out a yelp of pain; he'd nearly pulled her arm out of its socket.

"If this gets out," he growled, his face mere inches from hers, "I'm ruined. I won't let that happen."

"Let go of me!" she cried, trying to pull herself from the tight grip he had on her arm. "You're going to leave a bruise."

He squeezed harder. "Good," he hissed. "Maybe the bruise will be a reminder to keep your mouth shut!"

"I don't need a reminder!" she snapped. "I won't tell anyone!"

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she lifted her leg and kneed him in the groin. He let out a howl of pain and dropped her arm.

For a moment he was incapacitated, bending over and wincing in pain. But then he straightened up and the look in his eyes told her she'd made a big mistake. He looked even angrier than before, something she hadn't thought was possible. She turned to run from the room, but he was faster. He grabbed her arm again, this time slamming her up against the nearest wall. She winced, as pain shot through her body.

"You're going to tell Andy, aren't you?" he hissed. "You tell him everything."

"I'm not!"

He slapped her across the face.

"Don't lie to me!"

She lifted her hand and touched her cheek, staring at him in shock. "I'm not lying! I swear, Eric. I'm not going to tell a soul."

"Not even that boy who lives in that shack on the beach?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust. "That fisherman's son you've been fucking?"

Her eyes widened. "How did you know about—?"

"That's not important. What's important is that I know you aren't going to go running off to your little plaything and tell him what you saw."

"I think I've made it perfectly clear that I'm not going to!"

"That's good," he growled quietly. "Because I would make you regret it."

"Are you threatening me?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "I'm threatening him. You tell anyone what happened today and I can guarantee you'll never get to play with your little toy again."

Her eyes widened. Was he saying what it sounded like he was saying? Was he threatening to kill Flynn? She opened her mouth, trying to think of something to say, something that would assure him she wouldn't tell a soul, something that would keep the boy she loved safe. But, without meaning to, she burst into tears instead—loud, ugly sobbing. She tried to pull herself together; this was only going to make Eric madder. But she couldn't. The tears kept coming. How was this happening? How could any of this be happening?

To her surprise, Eric dropped her arm and stepped away from her. His face had gone from angry to unreadable. She didn't stop to ponder this, however. She just got the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

Eric watched as Ariel ran out of the room in tears. He contemplated calling after her, but then realized it would be pointless. There wasn't a chance in hell she would turn around and come back into that room. And he didn't particularly blame her.

He sighed, throwing himself down on her bed and closing his eyes. Why had he let himself lose his temper like that?

Of course, he knew exactly why. He was scared, something he hated feeling. Scared at what would happen if people found out his secret. And if he'd once pushed a man off a cliff to keep that secret safe, it wasn't that surprising that he'd reacted like he had with Ariel.

Still, he couldn't help feeling a bit guilty—which he also hated. He'd threatened that boy he'd seen her with before on the beach, she'd started sobbing, and his anger at her kind of just dissipated. And had instead turned into a strange mixture of guilt and jealousy. Ariel had looked so heartbroken at even the thought of something happening to that fisherman's son. And right away Eric had known he could never hurt him. Because that would hurt Ariel. And he couldn't do that (not any more than he already had). He was really quite fond of her, despite that fact that she had originally been nothing more than a key to the mer-kingdom, despite the fact that she probably hated him, despite everything.

He groaned, wishing he could go back in time and prevent all of this from happening. Why had he dragged Danny into that shed in the first place? It had been a stupid idea. And reckless, very reckless. It's just that Danny had shown up to give him some good news. He and Schmitt had been traveling all around the countryside, recruiting men for their mission, and it had apparently been a success. They were very close to having enough people to pull this off. Very, very close. And in the excitement of the moment, Eric had pulled Danny into the garden shed to thank him…

And then Ariel had caught them.

And suddenly, what he wanted more than anything in the world was to find her and apologize. And that was unacceptable. He stood up, feeling his anger returning. But this time, it was directed towards himself. He was acting weak, going soft. And for what? Her? He didn't love her. He didn't love anyone.

He stormed out of the room, nearly colliding with his brother.

"Whoa," Andy slurred, looking Eric over with blurry eyes. "You look maaad."

"And you look drunk!" Eric snapped irritably. "It's four in the afternoon."

Andy shrugged this off. "So?"

"Are things not going well with what's-her-name?" Eric mocked, knowing full well what Clarissa's name was. "Is alcohol the only thing helping you forget that she still won't fuck you? I'm surprised you even still want her. I heard she's damaged goods—already let someone go where you so desperately want to."

"She was raped, you asshole!" Andy snarled.

"Well, that's what she wants you to think anyway," Eric taunted. "So that when she finally lets you between those pretty legs of hers, you won't wonder why the little slut's hymen is already broken."

Eric probably should have expected it, but Andy's fist smashing into his face still managed to catch him off guard.

"Shit!" he howled, clutching his nose. "Fuck, Andy, that hurt!"

"Good!" Andy snapped. "You ever say anything like that about her again, it'll hurt a lot fucking worse!"

"Are you in love with her?" Eric heard himself asking, as he wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve. And he even as he said the words, he couldn't for the life of him understand what had possessed him to say them.

"Yes," Andy said shortly. "Of course."

"But how do you know?" Eric asked. "What's it feel like?"

Andy shrugged. "You just know, Eric. I can't explain it." He paused, tilting his head. "Why are you asking me this? Are you in love with someone?"

"I'm married," Eric muttered irritably.

"So you're in love with her then?" Andy asked, looking genuinely curious. "Ariel?"

Eric thought about how he'd felt yesterday, seeing her with their son, how he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her. He thought about how he'd felt when he'd seen her cry only minutes before. For a moment he had felt jealous that it was someone else that she loved that much, someone else who she was so frightened of losing that the thought of losing him had caused her to burst into tears.

Andy was still staring at him expectantly, his question hanging in the air between him.

"I have things to do!" Eric snapped, not wanting to think about the answer for a second longer. He pushed past Andy and hurried down the corridor.

What the hell had gotten into him?

Sorry it's been so long since I've updated! Things have been super busy for me recently. Right now I'm working full time 6 days a week at my school's newspaper and taking a summer class, so I don't have a lot of time to devote to writing, sadly.

Please review!