For a moment, he doesn’t know how to respond. He stares at me with those deep eyes. Eyes that seem to hold more colors than I ever noticed previously.
“Does this have to do with what we spoke of in the Natural World? Of you being ‘undeserving’ of love?”
“I said nothing of love.” I avoid his eyes, otherwise he’ll see right through me. I can’t think that way about us. Neither can he. It’s a risk that’s too grave for either of us to take.
“You didn’t have to. That fear of yours is much more than just love…” Ilryth drifts a little closer, the small fins on his tail propelling him without help of his arms. Does he realize what he’s saying? What the intensity of his stare implies? “Let me be the one to tell you, Victoria, without doubt or hesitation, that you are worthy of kindness, compassion, and love. And I will tell you it a thousand times over if that is what it will take for you to believe it.” He dips his chin, trying to meet my eyes.
Every instinct tells me to push him away as hard as I can. The lessons that have been etched onto my very soul were to trust no one deeply, to count on no one.
But…perhaps I could’ve trusted a bit more, long ago. There were all those around me that I kept at arm’s length because I was the one who had to take care of them, not the other way around. But they stayed, ready to fight and sacrifice for my benefit. I can’t change the past, but I can correct the future—what little I have left.
Now there’s an oddly freeing notion that hadn’t occurred to me before.
Rather than looking at my impending demise as reason to hold myself back, perhaps I should consider it freedom, of a sort. There is no “after.” No payment that will come due for whatever choices I make. I am about to march to the Great Beyond. What do I have to lose by living a bit for myself?
Without a word I swim toward the balcony. Ilryth follows when I motion to the space next to me, settling alongside me as I perch myself on the railing. There’s no sign of Krokan below this afternoon.
“Go ahead, ask me anything.”
“Pardon?”
“You must have questions about me… about why I am the way I am.” There are two conversations happening between us in tandem. What we are saying, and everything we aren’t—everything we can’t. Perhaps, if I’m brave enough, I can tear down the barriers a bit on the latter. “I’ll tell you anything you want to hear. Even things I haven’t told my family, or friends back in the Natural World. If you ask, I will answer you wholly honestly.”
Ilryth considers this for long enough that I’m bracing myself. “AnythingI want?”
“Yes, anything.” It’s too late to back down now. And, just once…I want to be vulnerable to someone worthy of that vulnerability.
“And you’ll answer truthfully?”
“I swear it.” He’s going to ask me about who made me feel unworthy. I’m already trying to string together what I remember around the voids of my mind the words of the old gods ate through. Who would’ve thought that whatever it was that I so desperately wanted to forget, is now something I’m trying to remember.
“What is the purpose of the cloth that adorns your ships?”
“Excuse me?” I blink several times, as if my misunderstanding somehow comes from not being able to see him clearly. I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t think I—”
“The ships. They have large flags tied to their center poles.” He pantomimes a ship and its mast. “Yours had three. I’ve seen them countless times but I’ve never been certain as to the reason.”
I’m fighting a smile with all my might. He’s so enthusiastic. So enthralled.
“It’s difficult to get plans or dioramas of ships. So I’ve worked to rebuild them as best I’m able in small model. My suspicion is to catch the wind. But how can wind move a vessel so large? Perhaps I could bring one of my reconstructions back from my treasure room to the surface and you could show…” He trails off. I’ve lost the battle with my face. A grin splits from ear to ear. Ilryth straightens and looks away. He has the pout of a boy who hasn’t been taken seriously enough for his liking. “Forget I asked. It’s a foolish question, I know. So obvious, so silly of me not to know. But it’s nothing a siren duke should be concerning himself with.”
The final statement has the echo of other people’s words to it. I shift on the railing and my fingertips brush his lightly. It wasn’t intentional…but I don’t move my hand either.
“Ilryth, it’s all right. The question isn’t offensive and isn’t anything you should be ashamed of, either. Besides, I find it endearing that you want to know.” His fascination for ships came from me, after all. It’s only right that I’m the one to teach him about them. “You’re right. The sails catch the wind and help give the ship forward movement.”
“I knew it,” he whispers triumphantly.
I nod with a smile. Ilryth looks rather proud and that only makes me smile bigger.
“The ship, while heavy, is much lighter in water. It’s called buoyancy.” I elaborate a bit more on the mechanics of ships and how the sails and rigging works. Even though I’m using technical terms that I’m sure would bore most people, he hangs on my every word. When I finish, I say, “I imagine there are many things about our worlds that we think are obvious until we’re presented with the gaze of someone unfamiliar.”
“Is there something you’d like to ask of me?” he offers.
I think about it. There’s so much unknown about the world of the sirens. About Ilryth himself. But he asked an easy enough question of me to start, so I’ll keep my inquiry simple, for now.
“Do sirens hate humans?”
“Why would you ask that?” He seems startled. “Have I ever—”
