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“I don’t get it. This is tradition in your culture?”
“I know,” Prince Eric leaned on the railing, looking down into his daughter’s bright brown eyes. He grinned. “I know, it’s strange, isn’t it. I guess I never looked at it any other way as just…a thing we do.” He tickled Melody’s tummy, laughed as she broke into a smile, and kicked her tiny legs. Straightening, he turned to his wife. “You don’t have any strange….rituals? Customs? Anything like that when it comes to birthdays?”
Ariel folded her arms over the bodice of her seafoam green dress and raised an eyebrow. “Nothing as strange as what you’re suggesting.” She picked up Melody from the crib and laid her on the bed to change her diaper. Melody kicked and babbled to herself, eyes taking in everything in her parent’s bedroom. “I don’t understand. You let the baby eat cake…and make a mess.”
“Exactly!” Eric shrugged. “Why is that so hard to conceptualize?” He ran a hand through his dark hair and propped himself in the window seat.
Ariel picked up Melody and bounced her on her hip. “Your mother had this dress specially made for this day, and you expect to put her in front of chocolate for the first time ever and have her make a mess of herself and the dress in front of the kingdom?”
“Which part confuses you?”
Ariel cocked her head sideways, staring at him. “ All of it. Your mother spent how long I was at the palace with you all teaching me how to sit straight and eat properly so I didn’t get things on my clothing-”
“Ariel, you weren’t one ,” Eric interrupted. “It’s….it’s all right when you’re a child to be a little…messy. You wash it off and then you’re fine.”
She handed the baby to Eric. Eric shifted Melody so her back rested against his chest and tucked his arm under her legs, swaying with her. “I’m guessing you weren’t allowed to be messy as a baby, were you?” Eric asked.
“I lived underwater. Hard to get messy.” Ariel picked out the dress Eric's mother had commissioned for her, a pretty yellow one with ruffles. “Is this acceptable to get cake on?”
Melody squealed and reached for the dress with her tiny fingers.
Eric laughed. “Perfect.”
That evening, after Melody had gone with the nurse to be put to bed, Ariel padded barefoot down the hall toward Eric’s study. Despite palace etiquette and appearances, she spent most of her time in bare feet around the castle. Eric’s door was open a crack, and she knocked before pushing it in.
“Eric?” The lamps were low, casting soft shadows around the room. She finally spotted him near the window. He was standing with his back to her, listening to the ocean. “Eric, what are you-”
She paused as he turned toward her, a smile on his face and a small plate in his hands. “Cake?” Ariel asked.
Eric nodded. “Leftover from Melody’s birthday. A smashing success, I might add, the people adore her. Then, she looks so much like her mother, so it’s not surprising.”
Ariel blushed. “She has your eyes,” she disagreed.
“And that’s about it,” Eric nodded. “Anyway, I saved this because…I was thinking this afternoon while watching Melody that on one of our sailings, I saw another tradition I thought you might like.”
He used the fork on the plate to slice two small portions of the cake. Then, he picked one up with his fingers and offered it to her. “We were invited to a wedding. The bride and the groom each had a small piece of their wedding cake, and…” He held his piece up to her lips before feeding it to her gently. She smiled.
“Then do I do the same?” Ariel lifted the sliver in her hand to Eric’s face…and proceeded to smash the cake into his nose and cheeks.
His eyes widened and he burst into laughter. “I should have seen that coming!” Eric gasped, brushing crumbs and frosting off his face.
“You said it yourself,” Ariel pointed out, “it’s all right to get a little messy.”
He pulled her close, kissing her. Ariel tasted him, and lemon frosting. She sighed. “I like this tradition,” she decided.