Part of Your World (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,48

just like a human, too.

Eric couldn't remember Vanessa lookmg any different. His princess had just appeared, walking on the beach. And then she met Eric... and sang... and married him... and then... all was grey.

He was like a fairy tale creature come out of a long sleep to fmd everything changed, moved on without him—despite being awake the whole time.

The door to the balcony opened but Eric didn't bother looking around: he knew from the way it was carefully, precisely manipulated that it was Grimsby.

"Master Eric, are you feeling all right?" he asked, his tone absolutely neutral.

"Grimsby, what is that ship they are buildmg there?" Eric asked, pointing toward town. The dry docks, which he often liked to watch from his spyglass if he couldn't get down there himself, were a strange mass of activity, like ants where you don't expect them. It was the peak of summer fishing; all energies should have been bent on catching summer flounder. Only after they been dried and salted properly, only after the autumnal equmox and harvest festival, should the town go back to the business of repairmg nets and building ships.. .before the winter flounder and cod fishing seasons began.

"That is the Octoria, the first of three warships commissioned for the glory of Tirulia." Grimsby said it delicately, as if he had wished to clear his throat before answering but didn't get the chance. He busied himself with pulling out his pipe and preparing the bowl, possibly to give his hands something to do.

"I approved this?"

"You signed the order, Prmce Eric, but I believe it was Princess Vanessa and her advisers who originated the plan and wrote up the decree." The butler frowned at his pipe, then went to tap it on the balcony and empty the old ash out into the water.

"Don't," Eric said distractedly, putting a hand out to stop him. "People live down there, you know."

Grimsby's eyes widened m concern, but he decanted the pipe onto the balcony floor instead, sweeping the ash mto a corner with his foot.

"It's for the invasion of the north?" Eric asked, nodding at the warship.

"An alliance with Ibria requires that Tirulia provide the sea power, Your Highness."

Both men were silent for a moment. Eric stared out to sea; Grimsby looked at Eric, his pipe forgotten m his hand.

"She is going to bring us to war with the whole continent before this is over," the prince swore.

"Oh, I hardly think so, sir," the butler replied mildly. "Unless you conscript literally every citizen of Tirulia, you will be dealing with a civil uprismg long before then. Sir"

Eric blinked. Grimsby's cold blue eyes and stalwart face gave no mdication if he was bemg serious or flip. The man never offered his uninvited opmion on affairs of the kingdom, much less made jokes about it.

"I came out to say that I had lunch delivered to your study smce you and the prmcess left before you had fimshed. Master Eric," he added after a moment, finally putting the pipe away m his pocket. "So you may take it m private while you work on your music after your walk, as you are accustomed."

"Lunch? Compose? Walk?' Eric looked at him, aghast. "There's too much to do to have time to eat or...play around with music! I don't know where to start! Brmg me the decree I signed for the warships, and the origmal order for dynamite, and any official correspondence with Ibria! At once!"

Grimsby's face broke out into a warm smile, like a beach that mostly sees cold rain and the pummel of waves but wants to prove it is entirely possible for it to enjoy the sun, if only given a chance. "I.. .felt there was something different about you today.

"Welcome back. Master Eric."

After attending to her maquillage, Ursula put her muffler back into place and nodded approvingly at her public" face in the mirror.

"Everything is arranged with the guards. Mistress," Flotsam hissed.

"Excellent. Now all I need to do is figure out this mess." She pointed at her throat, not bothering to whisper. No one was around who mattered. With a wave, she dismissed Vareet. The little maid scampered off, hopefully to make sure the rest of the royal apartments were being cleaned properly. That stupid dog's hair got everywhere.

"Perhaps a new voice would help? A new ...donor?" Jetsam suggested.

"That's not a bad idea," Ursula said thoughtfully. "Not a bad idea at all. I'll get right on that, later. So much to do., .throwing the little redheaded twit