The Lost Siren: Rise of the Drakens Book 1 by Raven Storm (find a book to read .txt) 📗

The voice behind my door sounded oddly young, yet eager to please. I rubbed my face, and hopped down from the massive bed, taking a moment to wiggle my toes in the soft carpet on the floor.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be out!”

I went over to the wardrobe, throwing it open and seeing what options were available. Hopefully, something a bit more...normal than the ceremony robe. I shred the purple garment like a bad memory, wadding it up and throwing it into the fireplace. I never wanted to see it again. Maybe if I burned it, I could burn away the look of disgust in Benedict’s eyes when he had looked at me.

My hands felt along the rich fabrics inside, marveling at the colors, which were as varied as the drakens themselves had been. They were all beautiful, but none of them were practical: all sheer fabrics that left nothing to the imagination. Was this another way to humiliate me? Why make me wear such revealing clothing if he hated the sight of my body? An idea sprung to my mind, and I shouted at the door.

“Can you bring me a pair of breeches, and perhaps a tunic?”

There was a pause.

“Yes! I’ll be right back!"

Stomping feet were heard racing away, and I smiled. He sounded like a child, perhaps a young boy. I’d never seen a boy, only men, though logically of course I knew there were boys, just as there were girls. While I waited, I took one of the sheer dresses and wrapped it around my breasts, creating an opaque band of fabric that covered all the important bits. I tied it off at the side, letting the extra trail down my midriff. A knock on my door signaled the arrival of the boy. I quickly bundled my traveling cloak from yesterday around me and opened the door, gazing down curiously at him. He was certainly a boy, though perhaps just on the cusp of manhood, no older than twelve. Everything about him was brown, his eyes, his hair, and even the tone of his skin. He had to be a boring, regular human like I was. He thrust a bundle of clothes towards me.

“Here. Got some breeches, but no tunics. They don’t wear them.” His own chest was bare, and he wore a single chained necklace with a small, sharp tooth dangling from the center. I noticed a pair of scars on the side of his neck, shaped like two large circles.

I waved his worries away.

“Thank you. Please, eat while you’re here. If it’s anything like dinner, there’s no way I’ll be able to eat it all myself.”

His jaw dropped. “I’ll get in trouble—”

I rolled my eyes. “So, don’t tell anyone. Let me put this on, and I’ll join you.” I shut the door on him and shook out the bundle, finding three pairs of black breeches of durable if not the best quality. They fit well enough to get by on, even if they sagged a bit in the crotch area. I slid my boots over them and chose one of the shortest dresses. The gauze covered my back and shoulders and flowed down to top at the top of my thighs. My midriff could be easily seen through the thin material, but at least my breasts were covered. All things considered, it was an improvement from yesterday.

I finished twisting my hair in a new braid as I came out to the sitting room, noticing the boy still standing awkwardly next to the food. The amount was ridiculous; it was enough food to feed every servant at the breeding house! Pastries, ham dripping in sauce, and other delicacies I couldn’t even name stretched out. I searched frantically for bread or perhaps some fruit.

“Eat,” I gestured, picking up an apple and nibbling at it. He saw I was serious and dug into the food with enthusiasm. I watched him eat in alarm, wondering if that was how all men ate, or just boys who were growing. The spread would make more sense if that’s how they thought everyone ate. The thought of all that food sitting in anyone’s stomach made me slightly ill, so I focused on my fruit. I would have to slowly build up my tolerance to the foods here, so I could eat normally for once.

As the boy ate, I casually slipped one of the cutting knives into the fabric covering my breasts. My dagger was probably still out in the darkened hallway somewhere. Childishly, I hoped Benedict would step on it.

“What’s your name?”

The boy looked up, dropping a bit of egg from his mouth onto his plate. I raised an eyebrow, and he put down his plate, wiping his mouth.

“Georg.”

I made myself a cup of tea, relishing the beverage we were all forbidden as servants. I took a sip and grimaced. It didn’t taste good at all; just bitter and earthy. Maybe I needed to add sugar and milk, like Crullfed did.

“And you’re not—”

“A draken? Nope! I’m human!” Georg stuffed a pastry in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Benedict found me, said my parents were killed by a band of lykos. My mom hid me in a pile of leaves. I’m from the mountain folk that surround this range. We used to live together as a large tribe, but since the Demon Wars we all split up to give ourselves a better chance of survival, or at least that’s what Benedict said. I’ve been here since I can remember.”

Benedict didn’t object to everyone then, just me.

“What can you tell me about Benedict? Or the drakens, or literally...anything I suppose.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

"They wear a lot of jewelry, and some cosmetics. Dark around the eyes here—” he took his middle and index fingers and drew an imaginary black mask running horizontally across his eyes. Would that make me more appealing? I considered, then decided against it.

“They can be a bit prickly; they