The Sea Siren

Chapter Twenty

Antony

The Orion bathed in twilight, painted by a gradient sunset, is quite the sight. It's probably why most of the village has gathered to bid her farewell.

Children play racing games in the water. Mothers weave colorful yarn through a loom, keeping watchful eyes on the wild youngings. Men are huddled around the fire pits, focused on preparing supper. Through all of this, they watch The Orion sink further and further into the distance.

The memories of the nights spent on this island prey on me as I turn, holding the stem of an iris flower.

I'm not even sure why I took it while she spoke to her right-hand, tucking it under my waistcoat.

It laid upon her vanity, freshly bloomed—I'm not even sure what purpose it served her. I didn't even realize I'd taken it until I was storming into the village afterwards, full of confliction.

My impulses are not even my own now. Once a man so withdrawn from desire, so cautious of his movements, it feels as if I've lost pieces to a game far beyond my understanding.

Now, I return to Vale, a failure. A laughingstock. A freed prisoner of the infamous Sea Siren.

The shame alone will give my father incentive to ship me right back out to find another way to destroy her. And this time, I doubt he'll provide me with insufficient soldiers. They'll be just as ready for battle as much as they expect I will be.

"Your highness!" The young Euce's voice is unmistakable. "Antony!"

I pretend I don't hear her, adamant on clearing as much distance from the shoreline as possible. The pathways are empty as I weave myself though the homes and tents, entering the dwelling I was provided with as of the morning—as soon as it was clear I was remaining on the island.

I didn't need it, but Leona insisted.

I close the door behind myself, relieved to be alone, out of sight of the ship I was meant to destroy. My thoughts should have been focused on luring the siren into a trap. Getting her alone to capture her... not losing myself in the warmth of her body.

My mistakes have been great. Colossal.

The iris in my hand has opened under the weight of the breeze but remains intact. The scent fills the small space in her perfume. It finally dawns on me why I took it.

It smells of her.

With a sigh, I approach my desk, placing the flower on the open journal. The letters I wrote to my brother almost a week ago cover both pages.

My mind was different. My mind was that of a commander, one loyal to my family and the seas.

Despite what I felt here, I must figure out how to be of sound mind again.

I need to forget her—as she needs to forget me.

"Antony?"

My eyes close as I hear a young woman on the entranceway, just outside the door. Euce. Rather than let her in, I meet her on the steps, closing the door behind me.

"Mama's making winter squash. It's one of her best dishes. She asked me to get you for supper."

People are beginning to trickle back to the village, which means the ship must have left the island. "Thank you but I don't have much of an appetite."

She frowns. "Are you feeling ill?"

"No, just tired... I don't think I'd be enjoyable company presently."

"Shall I bring some to you then?"

I shake my head, turning. "No, thank you. Please thank your mother for the invitation."