Chapter 18
Acelestial choir of siren song welcomed Lumina and me in the banquet hall, a harmonious blend of highs and lows that ebbed and flowed through my veins.
The singers, draped in varying shades of purple and blue fabrics, shone as they moved in unison. Their music poured from their souls, spilling out into the space.
Heart fluttering, I drank in that sound. The sirens’ song was always exquisite, even when it had hunted the ship I was on and controlled the sailors to the sirens’ will. No two melodies sounded the same, but when they came together as one, it was beyond beauty. It was transformative.
“There’s Raylik and Nixie,” Lumina said, ushering me to the long glass table, the same one I’d first sat at to break my fast with Hylos and his inner circle.
Now it was adorned with flowing streams of gauzy blue fabric.
Swirling siren orbs bobbed on the tabletops, which shimmered with the rainbow visages of sirens sitting around them, chattering away like they were ordinary dinner guests.
“Good evening,” Lumina said to Raylik.
Two young siren girls sat beside him, no older than sixteen and clearly twins, with matching slim, strong chins and mirrored blood-orange eyes. Even the gowns with flame-red ruffles they wore were identical.
“Good evening. Elowyn, these are my cousins, Myra and Lyra, from Mariscal Circle.” Clicks and hums transpired between the girls, but Raylik sent them a harsh glance that silenced the pair. “Speak in the common tongue here,” he ordered.
“Hello Elowyn,” they said in unison. The pair shared Raylik’s coloring: rich brown with flecks of fire-colored scales.
I dipped my head in a quick hello to all. “Hello there, lovely to meet you.”
Then I sat in a free seat next to Raylik’s cousins as Lumina took the other open seat beside me.
Hidden by Raylik’s large figure, Nixie leaned forward with a little wave and a smile, her short pink curls pinned to one side and her eyes painted in glossy pinks that faded into her cheekbones. She quickly leaned back in her seat, and I could hear her clear voice chiming to whoever sat beside her.
“Myra and Lyra are here with their father, my uncle Melquin, Leader of Mariscal Circle,” Raylik said, then looked across the table to a siren with the same intense eyes as his daughters and long dark braids that draped over his shoulders.
He was speaking to another ancient-looking woman, her coloring ice-white like Morvyn. They shared hushed words, and by the way their eyes darted in my direction, I knew they discussed me. It seemed that no matter the court, I was a spectacle.
I scanned the room for Morvyn and spotted him talking to a siren carrying a tray of chalices, a flirtatious smile painted across his chiseled face that made him look superb. The way he wielded that smile told me he knew it.
His eyes caught on mine, and he raised his glass as a greeting, and winked.
I smiled back. Ridiculous. Why was I not surprised that he was conversing with anyone but the honored guests?
Eventually, Hylos entered the room dressed in a glorious ocean-blue robe, a crown of aureate shells that cupped gems wreathing his head.
There was no announcement, nor a royal address; he didn’t need either.
Just the fact that he had entered the space immediately made the chamber’s attention bend in his direction.
It was the first time I realized just how well Hylos could command a room.
Among his friends in casual settings, he just seemed like a young man. All smiles and jokes. But here, now, he seemed every bit a king. Even if he was merely king regent. But regent or not, tonight Hylos was the true ruler of Naiadon, and that was apparent to all that looked upon him.
The young sirens beside me clicked and trilled in their strange tongue to one another, this time more quietly to avoid Raylik’s wrath. Girlish smiles lit their young faces, and then one turned to me. “Do you think him handsome?” Lyra asked, or was it Myra?
“Hylos?” I asked as we all watched him work his way around the great table, greeting each guest.
“Who else is worth speaking of in this room? Well, besides you. But it would be rude to speak of you now.”
“Thanks for sparing my feelings.” A smile flashed across my face at her lack of subtlety. “Unfortunately, my type rarely has fins.”
The girls both looked at me flatly, not budging at the joke.
Tough crowd.
“Yes, he is handsome,” I answered.
They trilled to one another giddily. Apparently that was the right answer.
I supposed it was true. Hylos was handsome, especially now as he beguiled his guests.
But he still looked like a boy to me. I suppose he was.
Beneath the robe and crown and bravado, I’d seen the child who missed his parents so much that he spent his free time in their study just to be close to them.
The boy who still believed his father was alive, despite him being missing for years.
But my thoughts didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way his people looked upon him now, how they basked in his presence with admiration and pride.
Their young, strong, charismatic leader. Taking the helm from his father, who held the epithet “the Great,” and doing so wonderfully.
Sadness panged in my chest. His father and mother would be proud to see the man he was in this moment. The king he had become in their absence.
I couldn’t help but compare him to my father.
The only other king I knew in the flesh.
He too had a kingdom thrust upon him unexpectedly.
His brother died from the sweating sickness one night and the following day he was king of Oakhaven.
My father was the spare to the heir and found himself in a position that he’d never expected. That he was not prepared for.
I always wondered if that was why he was so transfixed by ensuring his line of succession. Maybe he didn’t wish to burden someone unready to rule with a crown. Or maybe he was simply a narcissist obsessed with ensuring a part of him lived on after him. I would likely never know.
Hylos laughed heartily at something a siren with a pink complexion said.
There was another obvious comparison to be made between Hylos and my father as well.
Where the king of Oakhaven sat above all at the Yule feast, looking down at his people, Hylos greeted his subjects at their level, and seemed to truly enjoy them.
“I hope at my first Hydroxia, father arranges for me to mate with him,” one twin said, her head tilting as she stared at Hylos longingly.
“Me too,” the other added. Would that not be a little awkward? “To have his progeny would be the highest honor.”
“But I would have his nasty lover sent away or kill her myself.”
My eyes widened at the casual threat.
Calypstra was at the head of the table next to Hylos’s place. She was clad in a sheer black dress that showed every inch of her, the nipples of her small, taut breasts on display. Her dress was paired with a dangerous look that spoiled her gorgeous face.
“Do you think he loves her?” one asked the other.
“At times, I sense great love,” the sister replied, “but more often, only lust.”
Sense love and lust? What did she mean by that?
“A siren of barely twenty years, and they say he’s one of the strongest in all of Naiadon. Maybe even all three seas. Power radiates from him and yet he wastes it on a made siren who cannot bear him any children,” the nearest twin said to her sister.
Made. Like Lumina. So Calypstra was once human too. I couldn’t imagine it; nothing in her held humanity. Was her story as horrendous as Lumina’s?
Hylos turned to us, a wide smile warming his face.
The twins sat up straight in their seats at his attention.
“Myra, Lyra, a delight to have you here this evening,” Hylos said, taking their hands and kissing their knuckles. “You both look enchanting.”
They nearly melted beneath his touch.
“Thank you,” the two said as one.
“As always, we are loyal servants to you,” one said with a tip of her sharp chin.
“And hopeful to continue forging alliances with you and your Circle,” the other finished, batting her long lashes.
Forging was one way to put it.
“Circle Mariscal always has a seat at my table,” Hylos said, tipping his head graciously to them. Then he turned to me. “Elowyn, you look wonderful. Lumina did a marvelous job dressing you for this evening.”
Lumina could hardly lift her eyes to meet his. A strange tension sat between them that both seemed to ignore. But Hylos was far more capable of doing so than Lumina.
“You look every bit a siren,” Hylos said.
“Not quite, but I would certainly stand out at home.”
“That is a fact. Thank you for joining us,” he said. “Please, enjoy the meal and wonderful company. And be sure to stick around for the symposion as well; there will be great conversation.”
Yes, about war.
Hylos made his way to his place at the table’s head.
He raised a blue-imbued hand, flicked his wrist, and a thunderous sound roiled through the banquet hall, cuing a procession of servants dressed in gossamer white fabric to flow into the room.
Each carried trays overflowing with red lobsters, colossal and steaming, and meticulously arranged fish, both cooked and raw.
The servants looked like phantoms as they glided around the tables and piled food onto plates, unfamiliar purple and orange vegetables landing in steaming heaps. A small bowl of round beads that looked like black pearls was placed at the corner of every setting with its own small spoon.
When they finished, Hylos clasped his chalice, the polished gold gleaming in the siren light, and spoke.
“Esteemed guests, thank you for sharing this meal with me. Each of you here is a gift to myself and my castle from the Holy Mother herself.” He bowed his head in thanks, then raised his sharp chin.
I looked around the table and noted that most smiled at this sentiment, but some held clenched jaws and furrowed brows.
Interesting. An ember of hope sparked in my chest. Maybe this was a tougher crowd for Hylos to win over than I’d thought.
And without the other Circles, would he be able to start a war?
“You each hail from the greatest Circles in the three seas. From the strongest siren families in existence, with your own rich histories, stories, and honors. As do I.”
He let the words settle in the silent room, every eye captivated by him, even if in wonder or choler.
“And to have us here together, now, sharing a meal, is truly history in the making. Some may even say it is ordained by the blessed mother herself.” He looked at me on that note.
“So thank you, sincerely, for joining me, and I hope it is the first of many deipnons where we may share in the sea’s bounty. Praise be to Nymphaea,” he shouted.
“Praise be to Nymphaea,” the room echoed in unison.
Then Calypstra stood beside Hylos, smiling.
Hylos’s gaze shifted to her, his eyes narrowing, a flicker of confusion rippling through his features, which he quickly steeled.
Calypstra raised her cup.
“And here’s to our most honored guest of all,” she said, her voice a soft purr.
Her eyes fell onto me.
“Princess Elowyn Blackthorn.”