In the kingdom of Blognig, it doesn't do to be anything but human. People born with animal features are not tolerated, even though they're a perfectly natural occurrence. Even if neither parent has them, and according to both law and custom, such "unhumans" are transported to other, more tolerant countries. Possibly because execution would isolate Blognig politically, there are hints that that used to be their disposal method. Blognig prides itself on its "purity," so it's a major problem when the sole princess of the kingdom, Mio, is born with fins and scales – she's a mermaid. For probably political reasons, the king doesn't dispose of her but instead confines her to the palace, keeps her away from the salt water that enhances her powers and insists on hiring a doctor to concoct a drug to turn his daughter fully human.

If this sounds like a thinly veiled form of racism and ableism in a fantasy world, it is. In the Name of the Mermaid Princess very much wants to use fantasy beings to draw a parallel between real-world racism and ableism and their ills in its setting, and for the most part, it works. Mio is Othered to an impressive degree, and she has heard that she's not worthy or less than human for her entire life. She has internalized that until she's come to believe that her very existence is somehow wrong, if not an outright abomination. She wants to love her differences, but she's largely swallowed her father's insistence that her fiancé, Prince Chika of Aquatia, will only accept her as his bride if he doesn't know about her situation. Since his letters are one of the few positives in her life, telling him the truth isn't something she's willing to risk. She wants to be free to be herself but is afraid to.

Enter Yuri, a young Aquatian man who has come to Blognig to tutor Mio in the ways of that country. Yuri is aghast at Mio's treatment and not bothered by the fact that she's a mermaid; he tells her that it's wrong not to accept all parts of herself. This runs the risk of Mio learning to accept her mermaid nature because a boy told her to, and there are aspects of Mio and Yuri's relationship that feel condescending. Yuri's very direct, and at times, that comes off as abrasive. Author Yoshino Fumikawa tries to paint that as him simply being one of those "tell it like it is" people. However, there's still something a little uncomfortable about the way he plays the role of opening her eyes to her true beauty that would have felt more at home in a teen rom-com from the 1990s.

That's worth noting not just because of the mild ick factor but also because of the relationships between the heroine of the original short story set in the series' world included in the book "Eno's Flight." Eno, like Mio, is a young, unhuman woman, but in this case, an angel. After being put down and abandoned by her parents as a child, Eno meets a young man who invites her to join his circus. He plays it off as a safe place for her, but from the minute we see it in action, it becomes clear that Wondertini is much more of a freak show, where unhumans are put on display to "perform." We only get the first of what I presume will be two or three chapters in the back of this volume, with the rest to come in future books, but Eno's story parallels Mio's in the way that it puts her under the power of a man who says that he knows what's best for her. In Eno's case, that turns out to be untrue, and Wondertini (if that's his name as well as the show's; it's unclear) is more like the king of Blognig, wanting to use those he sees as Other for his benefit. Yuri does seem to be on the up-and-up (in fact, if he's not Chika in disguise, I will be shocked), and Mio is learning to have the strength to think and stand up for herself. It's interesting to watch the two stories unfold together, showing how Fumikawa changes her approach to her heroines over time.

Although In the Name of the Mermaid Princess can be a little preachy, possibly due to being published in the younger demographic manga magazine Ribon, it primarily manages to be an engrossing tale that's both easy to get into and hooked on. Mio shows impressive growth throughout this first volume, and we see that her servants, maid Rimore and footman Pernice, are not entirely what she believed them to be, trapped between loyalty to the king and their interactions with his daughter. There's an impressive level of nuance to a story with such clear points it wants to make, and the art enhances it beautifully, giving the story the feel of a literary fairy tale. If you're a fan of Rei Tōma but are looking for something a little lighter, give this a chance.