No Longer Our Sea (Book 1)

13

At the beginning of the morning sunshine, Valora's bright scarlet-orange hair glistens radiantly, almost as much as the sun above. Her hair is smooth and well kept -despite how long it measures- and the brush bristles move through her mane with ease.

My fingers skim through her hair as I begin to divide it into bits. Braiding feels like it takes a lifetime, especially since it reaches just past her stomach. I have no idea why she keeps it this long. Not even the sirens in the sea -known for their radiance- keep their hair this long. If not for beauty for it, the whole process would be a useless headache. No wonder why she has me maintain it.

The Princess is seated in front of me, waiting patiently for me to complete her hair. She talks to her other three ladies, all circled around her, waiting on her like the soon to be Queen she is.

I made little work to memorize my colleagues' names. Having not wanting to affiliate with them any further than I have to. Instead, I remember their identities by physical appearances, they all vary in differences.

One girl, with blonde hair and grey eyes,  is plagued by an array of freckles. Another is slightly tanned with squinted, upturned, black eyes. Her hair is black also, but she owns a different kind of beauty to her, one even Valora doesn't possess. The last one reminds me of Dorinara. She is almost her spitting image, with similar features of black eyes and coffee-colored skin. Her hair is shoulder length and curly. Like Valora, her hair is healthy and shimmers in the light.

All of them, capable of so much more,  chose to lead a life servitude to a Princess who'd turn on them in the first moment she could.

Most of the time, Valora talks about the problems of the kingdom and its royal court. Complaining to all of us how Bavia can't even compare to Karthmere, the kingdom she was born in.

"Have you heard?" Valora addresses all of us, most of them nod their heads, not wanting to start more conversations with her.

Normally, I'd just nod and confirm with them, but I was desperate for information. Anything could be essential. "No, Your Grace," I respond and the other girls glare at me, their eyes like mighty daggers.

Valora turns around in the comfort of her seat to face me. Her movements make me let go of a half-way-done braid; it untwirls instantly. Shame, how easily hard work can be undone.

"The expedition," she states. I'm utterly confused. "Where the sirens will be slain," she explains. My heart stops.  I hope my concern isn't written over my face. "This time, every noble at court has been given a ticket to watch."

Watch. Valora speaks of watching murder as if it's some sport. Indeed, sirens think the same way about humans, but it bothers me that people think this way at all. The only way to solve conflict is with peace. On both sides. Fighting fire with fire was only going to lead to our ruin. Eventually, my mother would find a way to retaliate. Then there'd be no humans and enemy to fight. We'd have to make enemies of each other.

Just the thought of our future boils my blood. Surely, someone else has to see the fate we're all blindly running too. Someone who's on both sides, who sees the bigger picture we're all slowly painting. Soon, that painting is bound to go up to and flames and all that will be left of the world is ashes.

"In how many days?" I ask. Being that I could have the outcome of this situation in my power, I had to know how much time I had.

Valora laughs, making a mockery of my ignorance, "You haven't heard anything, have you?" I make no effort to nod. We both knew she already knew the answer. By this point she's turned back around, having grown tired of gazing at someone beneath her. "In a week," she says. My hands begin to shake.