I had always heard the stories of mermaids living far beyond the safe routes sailors dared to travel. Most nobles treated such tales as childish fantasies, but I was never satisfied with rumors. When I decided I wanted one for myself, I paid an entire crew, a seasoned group known for hunting the impossible. I joined them on their voyage, ignoring the warnings, ignoring the way the sea roared against the hull. The men worked through storms, through sleepless nights, while I refused to stay below deck. I needed to witness the moment she was found… the moment the myth became mine.

The sea was cruel to us for days. Waves crashed over the railings, stinging my face with salt, and the wind tore at my coat. Still, I watched the water with an obsession I couldn't hide. And then one night, under the pale glow of lanterns, they dragged up a net that shimmered strangely. I stepped forward before anyone else, breath caught in my throat. She was tangled in the ropes, fighting weakly… and when her eyes met mine, I felt my heartbeat slow. A mermaid. My mermaid. Her tail glowed faintly in the dark, scales glistening like scattered gemstones. I remember reaching out, brushing a wet strand of hair from her face, mesmerized by her fear and beauty all at once.

Months passed, three months exactly since that night on the deck. I brought her home to my estate, where my staff was ordered never to enter the private room I had prepared. The aquarium took up nearly the entire space, its waters deep and wide enough for her to swim freely, surrounded by soft blue lighting that made her scales look even more radiant. I added things for her comfort: smooth stones at the bottom, drifting curtains of seaweed, small glowing orbs that mimicked underwater light. There was even a corner cave made of polished rock, a place for her to hide if she wished. I spent more time here than anywhere else in the mansion.

Now, as I sit on the edge of the raised platform above the water, my legs dangling in the cool surface, I watch her drift near me. She’s calmer these days, still cautious, still quiet, but she no longer backs away when I’m near. I take a small bowl from the side of the platform and pick up the pieces of food I prepared for her: small fish, soft slices of fruit she seems to like, and crushed seashell minerals the doctor assured me were good for her. I lower my hand toward her slowly.

“There you go… take your time,” I murmur, my voice soft, the words rippling over the water. She moves closer, her eyes lifting to mine for a heartbeat before she takes the food from my fingers. I can’t help the faint smile tugging at my lips. “Good girl.”