Chapter 8 - At the Top of the Tower

Princess Syra had never used a match before in her life and she tried a few times before finally lighting one. The wind, however, had other plans and blew it out. She was frustrated, but she lit another match and shielded this match from the cruel wind. As she held the flame to the wick, she held her breath.

Syra smiled with excitement when she saw the flame on the candle, she held her hand to guard that precious flame. She felt a sudden pain as the match in her other hand burned down and burned her finger tips. She dropped the match and looked at her fingertips.

Hestia is going to scold me. I will have to wear gloves to the tea party tomorrow.

Syra carefully picked up the summoning card and waved it over the candle. 

Nothing happened. She tried again and again and Icarus failed to appear. In frustration she threw the card on the ground.

“I should have known better. Why did I even come up here?” Syra buried her face into her hands.

“I assume you came up here to meet me.” A smooth voice came from above her, Syra looked up and saw Icarus. Even in the flickering candlelight, their wings were beautiful.

“I thought you weren’t coming. I kept trying, but nothing was happening.” Syra watched them land and fold their wings behind them.

“I might be able to fly quickly, but it does take some time to fly such a distance, your Highness.” Icarus came close to her and Syra could see their orange eyes with their round pupils shift in size as their gaze looked over her with the candlelight flickering on their form.

“Oh, I apologize for being impatient then. I just thought this would be a good place to meet since it is quiet here.” Syra blushed and looked away from their gaze.

“Away from prying eyes and speculation you mean, Princess?” Icar dramatically bowed. and walked around the balcony peeking around, “So I don’t have to pretend to be one of the sacred guardians?”

“Yes, but stop that. You don’t have to call me that. You can call me Syra.” She followed behind, “I meant it when I said I wanted to be friends. I wasn’t trying to lie about you being a guardian, I was just trying to make Aurelian give you respect.” Icar stopped and turned towards her.

“Your Highness not only wishes for me, a commoner and half human, to not only call you by your given name, but to also be friends? Respect based on lies… is that truly respect?” Icar’s irises changed sizes again as they stepped towards Syra.

“I am sorry. What is wrong with two outcasts being friends? Do you not wish to be friends?” Syra took retreating steps back until she felt cold stone against her back.

“Outcasts? You are a literal princess. You know nothing of being an outcast. Your life will be handed to you on a silver platter.” Icar continued their slow steps forward as they looked down into Syra’s eyes, “Actually a golden platter from what I hear.” They were close enough that Syra felt the heat from their body.

“I thought you of all people would understand being misjudged at first glance. Do you know much about sirens or my family? I have been raised to be perfect at every moment. I cannot do anything I wish to do as I must act as a siren royal.” Syra felt her anger growing, the anger she often pushed down.

“Oh, your poor Princess. Life must be tough for you.” Icarus’s eyes narrowed.

“One of several princesses, so my status is actually lower than you think. My second eldest sister, Pythia, is going to become queen one day. My third eldest sister is in the same position as me. Both waiting to be married off for profit or prestige or politics.” Syra’s eyes felt hot and wet. 

“You will be married off to someone with wealth and power. You know nothing of actual suffering, Princess.

“Pythia has two daughters of her own to become a crown princess after she ascends the throne. So if I stay here, I will no longer be a princess.” Syra sighed and looked away as tears dripped down, “I did not ask to be born as a siren or a princess.”

“Yes, living in one palace or another must be truly terrible.” Icar leaned forward so their face was inches from Syra’s, “Would you rather live in the streets begging for scraps of food, Princess?” They asked quietly as their eyes roamed her face.

“I am doomed to live a life of being a beautiful doll that will be sold to the highest bidder. Currently it seems that my husband will be the Prince you met the other day. His hatred for me and disdain for my mixed blood makes it clear, my true owner will be his father.” Syra snarled into Icar’s face.

Icar’s face fell as they looked contemplative and looked over Syra in a new manner.

“His father seems to only want me because I am of my mixed blood, the power of the royal sirens and kirin blood that gave me nothing, but human colored eyes. I thought you, someone that I thought was like me would understand.” Syra sobbed and brought her hands to her eyes, but Icar’s hands gently moved them and wiped her tears.

“I am sorry. I should not have been so assumptive. Your future husband seems rather… violent? Is there a way out of the engagement?” Icar held her face gently and looked at her with kind eyes as they spoke.

“Nothing seems to dissuade the King from his choice. Not even the events and rumors after the ball.” 

Syra laughed as more tears fell, “He told me he hopes that my power and wisdom can calm his son and guide him. Instead of teaching him to not be a monster, he leaves it to me to take his rage and try to rule around his temperament.”

 Syra looked into Icar’s eyes and saw their eyes look into hers with sympathy and kindness as they gently stroked her face.

“You could outright refuse in front of a crowd?” Icar offered with a slight shrug of their shoulders.

“That could at best end the allyship with the dragons and at worst cause war. I refuse to be the cause of innocent deaths that can be avoided.” Syra looked away and over the balcony.

“You are willing to sacrifice yourself to save complete strangers? You will be a good queen, if only there was a better king.” Icar stepped back and leaned on the balcony wall.

“Are there a lot of commoners that beg for food?” Syra leaned next to them.

“What? Oh, I am sorry for bringing that up. That is not your fault.” Icar blushed and looked away.

“I still want to know.” Syra felt their comments were more than just general statements, but something more… personal.

“Depends on the region. I used to live to the west of here. There are a lot of hungry commoners and many that do not have any homes.” They spoke while looking towards the horizon.

“The west? Do you live in the dukedom ruled by Duke Robert?” Syra looked towards Icar.

“Yeah, I think that is who collects our tax money.” Icar laughed dryly.

“I will find out what is going on. His one job is to take care of that dukedom and the beings that live there.” Syra reached out a gentle hand to Icar’s shoulder, but she felt her anger growing inside.

“Your eyes, Princess, I just saw them glow slightly.” Icar took her face into their hands.

“What? No, my eyes don’t do that. They are human.” Syra stared incredulously up at Icar.

“I am serious, I saw what looked like embers for a moment.” Icar leaned in and looked into her eyes closely, she felt her heart race under their stare.

“I do not require your comforting lies.” Syra saw them glance at her lips and felt her face flush.

“Aren’t friends supposed to comfort each other?” Icar gently stroked her face, “I was being honest, Princess.” 

“Stop calling me Princess!” Syra shouted and she heard echoes back as she panted and looked up at Icar’s surprised face.

“Why do you hate being called that so much? Do you not wish to be a royal?” Icar raised their hands and backed up.

“I…I do not know. Just stop calling me that.” Syra panted and then felt hands hold her own that were holding her skirts in fists. 

“I am sorry for offending you, Syra. I have not many kind nobles nor royals. I did not wish to be rude and risk being thrown in the dungeon. I am asking as your friend, please let go of your skirts, you are going to hurt your hands.” Icar’s thumb gently grazed her hand and as she slowly released her grip.

“I am sorry for yelling. And for the unkindness you have known.” Syra looked at their hand over hers.

“It seems we do indeed share a lot in common. We have both been treated cruelly for being born as we are.” Icar picked up their hand and gently touched Syra’s face to raise it up to look at them. 

“I tried to tell you.” Syra looked into their eyes as she felt tears threaten to fall in her own.

“I should have listened, a dear friend who can truly understand you is rare.” Their eyes flicked down to Syra’s lips again. 

Syra looked at Icar’s lips and then froze as she heard the door at the bottom of the tower open in the moment of silence between them. They heard several footsteps beginning to climb the tower. Syra panicked as she knew how bad this would look and glanced around desperately.

She felt there was not enough air and then she saw Icar dash across the balcony. Icar blew out the candle and quickly pressed Syra against the wall as steps ascended the stairs. The door next to them swung open and Syra saw Icar wince slightly as the door hit them a bit. Icar covered Syra’s mouth with their hand and whispered in her ear.

“Stay still, I will hide you.” Syra shivered from their voice in her ear and held her breath.