Excerpt from Fish out of Water

I place the crown upon my head and clasp it into the top of my pleated brown hair as I sit in front of my sea glass.

The green eyes of my reflection stare back at me, unflinching and unfeeling. My lips are set into a straight line under my noble nose in a face pale from seeing so little sun, per my father’s orders.

In every way, I resemble what a queen should be. What my mother was.

Using my silver tail to propel myself upwards, I smooth down the ceremonial grown woven from kelp to flow down my torso and half my tail, as modesty permits.

For a moment, I miss the feeling of my hair flowing free around me as a skirt, but I push that emotion deep inside and lock it in my chest along with so many others. A queen doesn’t need to feel free. And she certainly shouldn’t show grief for the previous queen.

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