Page 25 of From the Mouths of Sirens

“You are a fine dancer, Princess Saoirse,” Rook whispered, bending down so that she alone could hear him. She was at least a foot shorter than he was, her head only reaching his shoulder.

“What you mean is that you didn’t expect a siren to dance, right?” Saoirse answered, spinning around. He flinched at the derogatory word, even though he himself on occasion used it to refer to the Mer. Though her voice sounded polite, the glow of indignation in her eyes suggested otherwise.

“You think so little of me?” Rook asked innocently, catching her as she spun back to him. “Let me guess, you think I am prejudiced and ignorant in my lofty palace in the sky? That I can’t possibly be open-minded or willing to learn how you live?”

“Yes,” Saoirse said bluntly, her fingers clutching his own. Her hand was ungloved, her palm against his own bare hand. For some reason, he had expected her hands to feel cold and clammy. But they were warm and smooth, just like any other person’s. His eyes traced up her arm, noticing how the translucent scales that dusted her skin shone like moonlight. “I’ll be the first to admit that I have never spoken to an Auran before,” she continued. “Nor have I ever had the desire to.”

Rook gave her one of his signature grins. “You weren’t the least bit curious?” Instead of returning his smile, however, she only grew more hostile.

“No,” she replied quietly, candid fire burning in her eyes. “Your people believe themselves to be better than everyone else in Revelore. You look down on those who don't have wings,” she paused, taking a sharp breath. “Oh, and must I remind you that one of your kind infiltrated my kingdom and betrayed my great uncle in exchange for political secrets?”

The air between them grew stale. Rook silently bristled at her pointed insults and reeled from the sudden shift in her demeanor. Gone was the banter and flirtation of earlier.

So, the princess is done playing games, he thought, spinning her around and catching her waist again. He realized then that their conversation at the tribute table was simply another tactic, an enticing exchange of words meant to disarm him. She was toying with him, playing with his curiosity so that she could slip a knife through his ribs when he least expected it.

“You forget that your kind murdered my great aunt,” Rook hissed in her ear, spinning her again in a sudden burst of irritation. “And your people have taken every opportunity over the years to sabotage maritime trade routes and fund the exploits of rogue pirates who have murdered Aurans all along the coast,” he added. “Elorshin has made it a nightmare for the rest of us,” he seethed. “You encourage political uprisings and whisper lies in the ears of anyone who will listen. These recent missing merchant ships only prove my point. ”

“You make baseless accusations,” Saoirse countered. “Besides, do you even hear how frail that logic sounds? Why would the royal family deal with marauders when we have our own soldiers to do our bidding? And any sabotage of those trade routes would hurt our own economy as much as your own. You are gravely mistaken if you believe we have violated any trade agreements. We are conducting an investigation into those missing merchant ships, I can assure you. My own father remained in Kellam Keep to continue looking into the situation.”

Their movements had devolved from graceful to sporadic and uneven, nothing like the fluid twirls of earlier. Rook stared at her, secretly wondering if what she spoke was true. The Mer were cunning and ambitious, never content with swearing fealty to Aurandel. It was a known fact that Elorshin sought to undermine his family’s rule every chance they got. But though he would never admit it, a part of him began to question his understanding of the Mer. What were the odds that both Saoirse and Hasana would challenge his worldview in one day? Surely she had to be lying about the merchant ships. Wasn’t she?

“And, you would also do well to remember that this is all Aurandel’s doing, princeling,” she added, looking around at the banquet with disgust. “We gather in your city year after year and compete in the Tournament, never to win. Tell me, why do you think that is?” her eyes glimmered triumphantly, as if she had uncovered some massive conspiracy he could not refute. “I think Aurandel has won every decade because they’ve sabotaged the games and rigged them in their favor.”

She was trying to fluster him. And it was working. An ember of rage burned in his stomach, building into a crackling flame of resentment. But before he could find the words to respond, she hurled more accusations in his face.

“Your kind has brought the rest of Revelore humiliation every decade for the last century,” she went on. “Your people have twisted a once beautiful tradition into a manipulative, self-serving game. We are all at your mercy, and you know it,” she spat, her face flushed with anger. He twirled her again, momentarily cutting off their conversation.“All my life, I naively believed that the Tournament offered every nation an equal opportunity to rule. But this is clearly not the case. Even my own father knows this to be true.” Her voice hitched, edged with something like sorrow. “There is a poison spreading through these lands. Your people thrive while the rest of us suffer. You’re just too blind to see it.” She stared at him brazenly, her eyes unwavering and taunting. “Which is why I will do anything to win.” She was practically yelling now. Several twirling couples spared them curious glances, whispering amongst themselves.

“What are you accusing me of?” Rook asked, his tone dropping to a lethal edge. “Are you suggesting that Aurandel has not earned the Crown fairly?”

“Yes,” she replied, challenge in her eyes.

Rook took a deep breath and tried to contain his anger. He was acutely aware of the countless eyes upon them. Already, he could hear the speculations whispered through the crowd. It would do him no good to erupt in front of these people.

“You have as much of a chance to win the Crown as I do,” he said through clenched teeth. He had listened to her conspiracy theories and baseless accusations for long enough. “Only the worthy may possess it. If your people have not won it, then it is no fault of Aurandel. But I wouldn’t expect a simple sea-dweller to understand how things on the continent work. You believe that your isolationism has harmed Revelore. But I can assure you, you do us a favor by hiding away in your little coral castle,” he paused, his face tightening with anger. “We have no need of your kind here, and if I had it my way, we’d never let Mer out of the ocean and onto our shores.”

Saoirse’s lips tightened into a thin line, her face darkening with anger. He delivered the final blow without thought, crossing a line he shouldn’t have. But they were sparring now, warring with words rather than with blades. And if there was one thing he would never back down from, it was a fight.

“Your mother is the reason my parents were killed in that carriage eight years ago,” he whispered in her ear. “If she hadn’t arranged that meeting-if she hadn’t pushed her foolish ideas of reconciliation-they would all still be alive.”

As soon as the words spilled from his lips he regretted them. It may have been Saoirse’s mother who first offered to meet with his parents in the name of negotiation, but she had lost someone too. But even if he felt somewhat guilty, he would never take back his scathing words. Not now. Not when the truth had come out and the curiosity had waned. He didn’t trust the Mer. And he certainly blamed them for the fracturing of Revelore. This Mer princess might as well face the facts.

Saoirse said nothing in response, her eyes dark with hatred as they continued to swirl through the courtyard. For the rest of the waltz, they said nothing to each other. As they finished the dance, he realized that any possibility that they might have been friends was now gone, evaporated like spring rain on the mountainside.

Rook bowed to her, effectively ending the waltz. She bowed in return, sweeping her stunning dress across the floor. He knew his expression was likely as grim as her own. He felt no sense of triumph as he turned away from Saoirse, striding toward Veila and Eros. His entire body was rigid, fire running through his blood.

14

SAOIRSE

Saoirse pulled herself out of bed with a groan. She had slept poorly after the banquet, strange dreams waking her up every few hours. The stone floor felt deliciously cool under her feet as she padded across the bedroom and into the bathing chamber. She slipped into the pool quickly, sighing as the soft saltwater covered her. Her dry skin absorbed the water, hungry for moisture and craving the familiar embrace of total submergence. Under the surface of the water, Saoirse allowed herself to finally think about the banquet.

It had been a disaster. Her plan from the beginning was to gain Prince Rook’s trust, to get close to him and defy his expectations. It had gone smoothly at first. She had even started to enjoy his charm. But their promising conversation had turned sour the moment they began to dance. She couldn’t say why she had turned hostile so quickly. Something about his arrogance and his teasing had triggered something inside of her, had uprooted some deep-seated hatred within. She had lost all control, her loose tongue itching for a fight. Perhaps all those staring people had ignited the tension between them, their whispers and gossip fueling her rage. Perhaps her father’s words had bubbled to the surface and reminded her of why their people were forced to compete in the Tournament. Or perhaps her resentment stemmed from what happened eight years ago, when her mother was killed in that carriage with the Auran rulers. Seeing the arrogance on Rook’s face was enough to send her blood boiling.

Aurandel won every decade, and it seemed like that vicious cycle would never be broken. She didn’t understand why the talented warriors of Tellusun, Elorshin, or Terradrin had never once won the Crown. Being here and seeing the hopeful faces of the other tributes had started to make her father’s perspective seem sensible. Where was the harm in remaining hidden in the Maeral Sea? She balled her hands into fists, her fingernails biting into her palms. She felt as though she was a pawn in an elusive game, swept up in a trial she couldn’t begin to understand. But her traitorous mind recalled Rook’s scathing words and any thought of retreating back to Elorshin dissolved like sea foam.

“Your mother is the reason my parents were killed in that carriage eight years ago. If she hadn’t arranged that meeting-if she hadn’t pursued her foolish ideas of reconciliation-they would all still be alive.”

In that moment, she decided Rook was nothing more than an arrogant, privileged prince who was used to getting his way. And she would enjoy defeating him in the trials. It would be easy to fulfill Selussa’s bargain now.

---