“And now... it is my, uh, duty to ask for your hand in marriage.”
The maiden sighed, squared her shoulders. She had been practising her rejection speech – what, with all the time on her hands in her forlorn tower. She had prepared an elaborate discussion of “love” as a notion that... simply was not for her. To her surprise, however, the knight seemed... relieved? He turned to his page, laughing, and reached for the young man's hand.
“Sweet Jeremiah, there was no reason for our quarrel.”

The sailor had heard the tales, and so he feared for his life as he felt himself drawn towards the shore. But the song was too enticing, and so he found himself on the shore, searching for the creature. He finally saw the siren, a woman of exquisite beauty. But she had given no sign of welcome.
And so he halted, sat down at a distance. Listened.

Her song ended, and he felt her eyes on him.
“Will you kill me, now?”
The siren laughed.
“We only kill those who know not their place.”

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