Daniel had been sleeping peacefully when a sudden weight pressed down on his chest beneath the blankets. It was warm, solid, and very much not part of any dream.
He frowned and shifted slightly. "Hmm… who—"
He pulled the sheet down.
Tamara was sitting on him.
For a moment he simply stared, trying to determine whether he was still asleep. She was straddling him inside the bedsheet, hair loose, eyes bright in the dim light.
"…Are you quite right in the head?" Daniel asked slowly. "Or is this some new sea custom I'm unaware of?"
"You mean human," she snapped, pressing her fingers firmly over his mouth. "Shut up your nasty mouth."
Her movements were a little too loose, a little too unbalanced. That was when the scent reached him.
Alcohol.
Strong enough to sting.
Daniel's expression shifted.
Wait.
Who gave her alcohol?
It was already troublesome enough managing a clear-headed mermaid who had once tried to eat him. A drunk one was an entirely different problem.
He tried to sit up, but Tamara pushed him back down with surprising strength, leaning forward to pin him more securely.
"You will not leave," she declared, words slightly slurred yet filled with conviction. "You nasty man. You kidnapped me from my home. You made me wear these shameful human clothes."
"They are not shameful," Daniel replied evenly from beneath her. "They are practical."
She grabbed his collar instead, pulling him closer as if that somehow proved her point.
"You think you are powerful," she accused. "You think you can take what you want."
"You attempted to eat me first," he reminded her calmly.
"That was survival."
"And this is?" he asked.
She hesitated, clearly losing the thread of her argument, then tightened her grip instead of answering.
"You will not leave," she repeated stubbornly.
Daniel studied her flushed face and unfocused glare.
"Yes," he muttered under his breath. "Definitely drunk."
He exhaled slowly, weighing his options. Breaking free would be effortless, but that would only escalate things. For now, it was far more interesting to see where this unpredictable storm intended to go.
"So," he asked evenly, "what exactly do you want me to do? Do you want me to drop you back into the ocean?"
Tamara's grip tightened for a second.
"No," she said quickly. "I like the human food. It is better than the human meat I used to eat."
There was no embarrassment in the statement. It was simply fact.
She frowned slightly, clearly struggling to form the rest of her demand.
"But you should treat me like…" She paused, searching for the right word as if digging through a foreign language in her head. "…what is it?"
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
"Queen?" he suggested. "Princess?"
Tamara's eyes sharpened at the first word.
"Queen," she declared with sudden certainty.
Daniel looked at her for a long moment.
"You broke into my room, sat on me while drunk, attempted to bite my neck, and now you are demanding royal treatment."
She lifted her chin defiantly.
"Yes."
He considered that.
"And what exactly does 'queen' treatment involve?" Daniel asked calmly. "Servants? Tribute? Bowing?"
Tamara leaned closer, eyes glinting with drunken authority. "I want you as my servant. You will feed me and do everything I say."
Daniel stared at her.
"…No."
Her lips curved into a sly, unsteady smile. "Then I will make you."
Before he could react properly, she yanked the bedsheet up and over both of them in dramatic fashion, as if that somehow sealed the declaration.
"Wait—stop," Daniel said, catching her wrists before she could escalate whatever chaotic plan her intoxicated mind had formed. "You are not in your right mind."
"I am perfectly fine," she insisted, though her balance suggested otherwise.
Downstairs in the hall, Evelyn paused mid-unpacking.
"Did you see Tamara? She was here a moment ago."
Elizabeth folded a dress carefully. "She said she was thirsty and wanted something to drink."
Evelyn's expression shifted.
They both slowly turned toward Art and Ronnie.
"You two," Elizabeth said evenly, "did you see her?"
Art and Ronnie froze.
"No, madams," they answered in perfect unison.
They did not mention that they had seen the mermaid empty an entire bottle of alcohol as if it were water.
***
The next morning, the mansion hall looked less like a living space and more like a battlefield.
A chair flew across the room.
It shattered against the wall—nowhere near Daniel.
He was seated calmly on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, watching the chaos with mild interest. Every object Tamara hurled at him curved away at the last second, as if the air itself refused to let it touch him.
A table flipped.
A vase exploded.
None of it reached him.
Tamara stood in the center of the wreckage, face flushed—not from alcohol this time, but humiliation.
"Shameless human!" she snapped.
Daniel raised a brow. "Good morning to you as well."
"How dare you!" she shouted, grabbing a cushion and throwing it with unnecessary force. It veered off course and smacked into a wall instead.
"I dare many things," he replied evenly. "Breathing. Sitting. Existing. All very bold of me."
She glared at him, fists clenched.
Fragments of last night had returned to her in cruel clarity—her drunken demands, her attempt to assert dominance, the sheet incident. The memory alone was enough to make her want to sink back into the ocean.
"You took advantage," she accused.
Daniel's gaze sharpened slightly.
"I stopped you," he corrected calmly. "Several times."
Tamara faltered for half a second, because she knew that part was true.
Her pride, however, refused to accept that.
"You let it happen!" she shot back.
"You were the one issuing royal decrees," he replied. "I was under strict queen orders, if you recall."
She grabbed what remained of a decorative lamp and hurled it across the hall.
Before it could complete its dramatic arc, Ronnie—unfortunately—decided to speak.
"Umm… boss lady, no need to be angry," he stammered, raising both hands in surrender. "Things happen in bedrooms between couples when you drink. It's normal."
The room went very still.
Tamara slowly turned her head toward him.
Her face changed.
Her pupils thinned. Her teeth extended subtly, not fully transforming—but enough. A low hiss escaped her throat as she lunged forward.
Ronnie froze.
That was not a human expression.
That was a predator.
She crossed the distance in a blink.
Before she could reach him, Daniel moved.
In one smooth motion, he caught her mid-air, hoisted her effortlessly over his shoulder like a sack of grain, and stepped back.
Tamara immediately began striking his back with her fists.
"Put me down!" she snapped, still half-hissing.
Daniel held her firmly in place as if she weighed nothing.
"Quick advice," he said calmly to Ronnie, who was now pale and reconsidering his life choices. "Never joke with her like that."
Tamara growled.
"She is a man-eating mermaid," Daniel continued evenly, adjusting her slightly as she squirmed. "Not in a romantic sense. In a cannibal sense."
Ronnie nodded rapidly.
"Understood, boss. Completely understood."
Tamara twisted, baring her teeth again. "I will eat him!"
"No," Daniel said flatly. "You will not."
*****
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