The coldness that filled my body upon breaking the river surface, was severe. It was the kind of coldness I've heard of, but was just experiencing.

It made my teeth judder. My feet, numb and unresponsive. And I couldn't even move my arms enough to attempt swimming.

And at that second, I felt it. Water, rushing into my lungs.

I can't breathe! I can't breathe! I was choking. No air!

Xemein, put your head above the water and breathe...

No! I screamed inwards. I won't risk it.

I won't dare lift my head above this river surface. I nearly lost my life to a wraith, with claws as long as six feet, I won't give any other wraith, waiting on the riverbank a chance to scratch me when my face comes up for air.

Wraiths feared water and sunlight. So, I was certain no wraith would be entering this river to end me soon.

My bronchi!

More water rushed into my airways.

Xemein! If you're choking, and going to die. Try to stab the Dark Lord now! End him right now!

I tried to move my left hand. To reach the sheathed dagger round my waist. But, at that same moment, my right hand lost its grip on the Dark Lord. And then, I was falling. Falling rapidly. Sinking to the river bottom.

Death in the hands of the wraiths versus death by drowning. I choose drowning. To lose my hold on life, with me still being myself. With me, still having the memories of Marjol as my eyes closed forever. I choose that. I choose...

With my partly closed eyes, I saw Him swim towards me. Moving like he did in the woods, with magnificence, to save the damsel in distress. Except, in this case, he couldn't save me again now. I wasn't like Him. Born with fish lungs. So, I'll surely die soon.

The gods must have seen this day, when they blessed every Armalith royal with fish lungs.

The fish lungs wasn't a Gift. You were born with it. Gifts start to manifest at age three but family heritage (like the fish lungs), from the second you were conceived in your mother's womb, you were that way. Hence, unlike Gifts, it was unaffected by the presence of sorcery.

His hands touched my cheeks. And then, as though his near presence was not already confusing my dying body, he kissed me.

My pulse quickened.

What just happened? My first kiss! A wave of lust coursed through my system. And I felt my core start to throb.

He pulled his lips back. Looked at me. And kissed me again. Pushing air down my windpipe.

Mother of Light! Why does his kiss feel like my entire sex was enveloped by the heat of his mouth?

His kiss returned. Air filling me.

His tongue, moving in and out of my mouth fast, was like him tongue-fucking me. Lapping greedily at my wet folds as though he was dying from not tasting me enough.

The waves of pleasure built and built, and I feared I'd finally crash down around him, like I'd been hit with a tsunami.

He stopped "do you feel better now?"

His voice, cultured and smooth with a rasp that made my stomach flutter. And the thought of that raw, primal sheet-clawing sex I thought of, the first day I saw his spectacular face raced through my mind.

I tightened my legs. Yet, still felt that raw energy at the peak of my thighs, begging for release.

I nodded. Implying, my airways felt a lot better now.

And as he continued every few seconds with the kisses, striving to make sure I survived the next hours under water, it made me think.

Why save my life?

Why? Just why? Wasn't it rumoured that He enjoyed seeing others perish?

If he had let me die in the hands of the wraiths or here in these cold waters, no one would start a war on my behalf. So, why stress himself to save me? Why return for me when he could've escaped on his horse, far away from the grip of the wraiths?

But the irony of all this was, if this case was reversed. And I was the one with the horse, or the one with the fish lungs, I know with full certainty what I'd have done.

Abandoned him to the wraiths. Left him to drown.

And yet, this man whose guard I was supposed to lower, so as to kill him when he least expects it, has now saved my life twice! And I wondered what that meant.

Do I avoid killing him on two occasions when I'm certain I could easily end him?

Or just as he has shown me mercy, I could postpone my plans, until the sixth month of our marriage, the date limit to set my people free. And then, I'd kill him.

*****

And now, our lady wants to wait for six months to repay him for saving her life more than once. What do you think will happen from now till that 6th month? Will she end up choosing her people? Or her future love?