The Sea Siren

Chapter Two

Antony

It's my favorite time of day. Dusk. The twilight in the Vale maps the broken sky in purples and blues, a light show of celestial proportions. The cracks in the atmosphere weave puzzle pieces through the heavens, like consistent shots of lightning that are endlessly charged.

The cobblestoned highways are manic, everyone racing to end the day and escape to the nearest barrelhouse. The drinks in this province are strong and the women many. "Good evening, Commander!"

I don't think I'll ever get used to that. Commander.

With five Kings-guards at my heel, I nod a greeting to the blacksmith I employ to forge my weapons, since I refuse to stake my trust in the decrepit my father insists is the best in the kingdom.

These roads and the people on them are far more familiar to me than to my brother.

Being the bastard of the King has its small mercies—though not many.

Most pause what they're doing to heartily exchange greetings and to my pleasure, ignore all insistences from my father's guards of referring to me as Your Highness. My Prince.

Such ridiculousness.

Most of these villagers watched me outgrow them in size, watched me go from a boy who caused trouble with his friends down by the docks to a man who now controls them.

I do not live my life by their careful customs.

Gaia shouts from her window, opening her wooden panes. "Have you read my gram yet?"

"You should see the stacks they left on my desk this morning! I'll search for it when I return to the palace!"

After tussling through her things, she flings an object through the window. One of the guards leaps into the crossfire, snatching it while I look on unsurprised. When he inspects it, turning to me, my arm is already outstretched.

Gaia, old enough to be my grandmother and harmless as can be, laughs when I send her a look of impatience, holding up one of her homegrown dragonfruits, the mysterious missile she sent for me.

"I'll savor it, Gaia!"

While the royal family is usually required to travel in coach, the dark sheep doesn't require as much protection. Not that I need much of it. I rarely leave my residence without a manful of weapons on my person.

There are winding rows and rows of vibrantly colored buildings, shops and social squares. Lingonberry cream pastries fill the windows of the patisserie, wafting into the sea breeze, indicating that we're close.

The double doors marked with paintings of winding sea creature tentacles are opened for me. Amongst velvet and gold riches, the incorrigible madame deep bows from behind her roster. "Highness."

"Evening, Lin."

Her violet eyes drift slowly over the deep black regalia that sets me apart from the militia's crimson uniform, the heirloom sword strapped to my hip, and the entourage breathing down my neck. "Commander looks good on you, Antony."

Two of her women circle me like ravenous vultures, a male surveying me from the plush couch, wearing naught but a silk scarf draped discreetly over his thighs. This brothel is used by the court, the only place in the kingdom where what happens in here actually stays here.

"You don't look like you came to stay for fun," the madame muses, practically hissing when one of the girls becomes bold enough to touch my chest, right where the medal I'm being presented today will exist. They heed her unspoken warning, leaving on their own accord.