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.
A week; that was it. That's all the time I have before more of my people would be killed. A week is about the time span I've been here, during which I've uncovered nothing. This time, their blood would be on my hands; it'd be my fault. Mother would condemn me for it. I panicked. How could I possibly save them in that amount of time? I barely knew where to start.
Even from behind her, I can see Valora's cocky smile. It makes me want to gag.
I begin to braid again; this time twisting and pulling so vigorously and fiercely I fear her hair would rip out. But this is effective; she doesn't move and it makes it easier for me to get it done.
"Ow!" She whimpers. I have to refrain myself from rolling my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness," the apology isn't even close to sincere.
She calms herself before she fumes at me and turns around again, making me let go of the braid. I grit my teeth in frustration.
She tips her head, "You seem tense, Lianna," her concern is false, I can't hear it in her tone, "What's the matter?"
I smile at her, "Nothing."
She stares me up and down, eventually making a mhm sound and turning back around in her chair.
I presume she means to continue her hair so I go back to sectioning. I move a piece of her red locks in front of her shoulder so I can finish braiding the other side. Before long, her eyes catch a glimpse of the bracelet shining on my wrist. With her own hand, she snatched my wrist and peers her head innocently over to me, "May I see it?"
A warning blares into my head. I know exactly what she's indicating but I don't want to believe it. "Of course," I say, and move from behind the chair. Soon, both of us are standing.
The other girls cower behind her, ready to follow every and any command she may give. It's like a small army against me.
I extend my hand to reach her eyesight and her green viper eyes soon glue themselves to my wrist. "It's stunning," she says, she's almost at a loss for words. I never realized how beautiful organic pearls to humans.
Valora begins to glance at it for a little too long, I fear she's going to command me to take it off. Instead, I jerk my hand back before she can say anything else, securing it a place at my side. "Your Majesty is too gracious," I announce and the other girls around us nod in agreement.
Valora smiles at me, I smile so fabricated and staged that it almost makes me want to do the same.
She sits back down in her seat waiting for someone to continue her hair. When no one steps up to the plate she calls for one of her ladies. This time it isn't me. "Eyva!" Valora calls. The girl with the coffee-colored skin and curly hair comes rushing to her side. Immediately, she takes initiative and continues the hairstyle I had started.
I sigh. That had been to close, too close of a chance. Valora could have easily slipped it off and along with that Lianna would have followed with it. I would have been revealed as the siren I am. I might have even been killed along with any that would be dead in the coming days.
But no, I couldn't think like that. No one would die; I won't let them. The fate of my people laid in my hands. This time I wouldn't let them go.
I have one week.
~
The castle halls are deserted at midnight, which makes it the perfect place to wonder at this time.
Everyone is well asleep, having too busy schedules to sacrifice sleep for more hours in the night. It's convenient for the siren lurking between their halls. We thrive during the hours of the night.
I'm not blind and I know exactly what I'm looking for. I remember the look and smell of the Aegunic like it was yesterday. Today, I wouldn't give up that sense. My instincts would lead me right to it and I'd find a way to destroy it.
From wandering the halls the previous day, I already know where I've left to discover. I wiped the other passways clean, making sure I knew exactly what was inside of every room.
The candles are dim and giving out, but even I still notice the stairs lead up to the fourth level; a level that's been left uncharted. Curiosity interest overtakes me, and soon I found myself climbing the steps in rapid speed.
The stairwell is out in the open: for all to see and enter. It's no wonder I hear other footsteps climbing the steps...right behind me.
I try to sprint up the steps but the person behind me quickly follows my momentum. Soon, I hear their steps right behind mine and I have no other choice than to turn around and face them. It's him again: Nik.
"Nik!" I exclaim the small scream of pure fear, "What are you doing?"
He'd followed me up the stairs, surely he saw me glide down these halls too? If he was wary, he'd be able to combine my behavior to a final conclusion about me.
I'd seen how he acted in the tavern. How he would put himself at risk just to make her his people would have the correct poison if the time came to be. How he talked of my race like we parasites, referring to us as "them"; the enemy. But I can't blame him, it's all he grew up to believe just as the sirens in Draesa are taught.
If he connected the dots, I'm certain he'd inform his father immediately and I'm sure they don't take accusations like that lightly. It would be my word against his, and why would they believe a supposed Northwell over their Prince?
No, I'd have to try to steer him in a different direction, I needed to convince him otherwise.
He's perched against the stair rail, grasping it slightly as he stands with ease. "I couldn't sleep and went for a walk. Then I saw you go through the halls and up the stairs," he explains. I decide to feed off his information and make mine similar.
"I couldn't sleep either," I lie, "So I decided to explore the castle." He stares me up and down; I don't look like I just rolled out of bed.
No, actually I'm fully dressed in the blue-colored gown from earlier today still on. His story is more believable. He's dressed in simpler trousers and a thin chemise shirt. If anything, the contrast in our dress is apparent. It didn't help my case at all.
He tips his head slightly, doubting me, "At Midnight?"
I nod, "Precisely."
"The fourth floor is off-limits at night. You do know, right?" He asks.
I freeze. "Actually, I didn't," finally, I speak the truth. "Goodnight," I respond. I attempt to pass him by, moving to the side and trying to descend down the steps.
He stops me, matching my steps. Contributing to the use of our nicknames he retaliated with my own, "Lila, what were you actually doing?"
I curse myself. Finding my brain at a blank for excuses I respond with: "I'm going to sleep," it's all I can think to say.
But he's smarter than that to be satisfied so easily, so he pursues me anyways.
He blocks my way, placing his arm in front me as he tries to stop me from going down the steps. "Lianna," he says again, the innocent nickname long out the window, "tell me." He tries to meet my eyes this time, grabbing my attention like a hook. But I don't want to look at them, I don't want to look at him.
At this point, I've forgotten all about my main purpose and constructed a new one; getting a way out of this situation. I felt myself boiling and my thinking becoming more irrational. It was only a matter of time before I made a misstep. Nik would have a front-row ticket to see it.
I look away from him, focusing on the stairs below me. But he blocks me again, relentless to get whatever he thinks I'm hiding out of me.
He doesn't say anything, his actions are just what is preventing me.
By this, my hands have become dependent on the stair rail. Using it to lean on as I balance myself through this encounter.
When I try to move and he restrains me again I seethe. Late hours in the night plus a day with Valora is enough to make anyone go insane.
"I don't have to answer to you!" I yell at him finally an answer in our minutes of silence. It's no surprise to me that I eventually snapped. I'm weary and overcome by stress and anxiety towards everything.
He's taken back and says nothing. "Fine," he responds with such affirmatory, "Fine."
He's certainly alerted now, I tell myself. There is no way possible he'd never draw to a conclusion.
Instantly, I realize my mistake. The regret strikes me like the cold winter wind. "I-I'm sorry," I mumble out but he's already started to descend down the steps.
Forget my sanity, I'd just damaged a potential ally. Not only that but the budding friendship we'd been building. Along with that, any trust, simply just withered away at that moment. We both felt it.
His back is turned to me now, and he tries to escape the stairwell.
No, I couldn't let him walk away. Not with our relationship crumbling like this. I needed to do something to fix this and fast, but what could I possibly do?
I call for him, "Wait!" It's not yelling, just a plea I'm begging for him to follow. Running down the steps to the landing, I catch him and tug on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I can explain," I try to say but he doesn't seem like he's buying it.
"Explain?" He huffs and starts to ramble about a bunch of different things. I don't know what they are exactly; I can't hear him.
Instead of listening, my mind is racing with thoughts. All kinds of different excuses and solutions flood my brain, but I can't word a single one of them. I don't know how I'll persuade him, how I'll save myself. I can feel my nerves overpower me with the stress and pressure of everything, but still, I can't put anything into words.
I don't know how.
I attempt to get him to stop talking. It's a desperate whisper of a plea just so I can hear myself think but it's no use. He's knee-deep into some theory and I'm one step closer to certain death. I know it. I can almost feel it.
Without intention, my arms go up and next thing I know I'm gripping onto his, squeezing them like a life jacket. He tenses.
He calls my name but I barely hear anything but shielded muffles.
I glance at all sides, no one is in sight. By now, it had to be about one in the morning, everyone would be in a deep sleep. No nobles would be awake to listen.
Then finally, silence. That long craved silence weaves its way through the air. I know exactly what I must do.
My tongue refuses to speak but somehow the notes of my song flow out easily.
The song is wordless, but it holds the same amount of power all the same. Without lyrics, I didn't have to rely on words to make my victim do what I wanted. All I needed was my mind to decide their fate, not the word that would easily betray me if they could.
If I'm skilled enough, my song will make him forget this whole encounter. The memory gone, completely tarnished, as if it never existed. I'd have a clean slate once again. Or I wouldn't. The possibility of this failure was inevitable, especially for someone who's never done it before.
I needed this to be precise, needed this to work just as any other skilled siren might have succeeded. I remember Kahliteia, how she'd gaze into the eyes of her captive, strangling them in her song with the simple look of her blue eyes. I think I have to do the same.
My hazel eyes gush into his like waves. Overpowering any other human ability and dominating them with my own. The eyes are the keys to the heart, mind, and soul, now I had his.
It's the most intimate I've ever been with another person. I can't tell if I like the feeling of intense closeness.
I've never sung to anyone before, much less a human. I've never realized how captivating I could be. Or how addictive it is not only for the victim but the power the siren singing it holds.
My voice is smooth like the tides and melodious like the wind. The raw notes I bestow are mesmerizing and inescapable. Even before I didn't notice how much I sounded like a daughter of the sea until now.
Now, I've grabbed his attention. I have no intention to let it go.
My singing encloses the atmosphere around us, trapping not only him but anything and anyone around us in an imminent musical cage.
The notes draw to an end and all of a sudden there is silence again. Completely and utter silence. My song is over. His memory should be blank, absolutely void of the experience.
When I let go of him, he does as I instructed, goes down the stairwell, walking blindly back to his room, completely under my influence.
I did that. I did that to him. Took advantage of my powers and used them against him. Nik couldn't have done anything to defend himself, even if he wanted to. He wouldn't stand a chance.
I put him under an incantation that would never leave him, even later in his lifetime.
A siren's song never ends.
If the humans don't drown from our song they're forced to live out their lives with it still lingering in their mind. Even if the song is over and the siren is long gone, it will always be there. Left to linger in the back of their minds until the day they die.
It was my fault. I'm to blame for all of this and the repercussions he'd have to face after. All me and my song; my curse.
What have I become?