Page 8 of Crownless King

She patted my arm. “It’s not your fault, honey.”

But it was. I didn’t plan for any of this to happen, but I felt responsible nevertheless. If it wasn’t for me, Voron would still be the powerful High General, living in the Sky Palace, and Brebie would be there with him, together with Kanbor.

They had made sacrifices for me. People I cared about were now worse off because of me, and I had no idea how to fix it.

* * *

The muggy heat was exceptionally hard to deal with in the afternoon. Every day, the weather seemed bloated with storm, but the relief never came. Since the king’s mood affected the weather in the Sky Kingdom, I wondered if King Tiane’s spirit was brewing with anger against me, not finding a relief in vengeance—not yet, at least.

My bathroom in Vensari came with a water feature that served as a bathtub. It was a round pool, shallow on the edges that allowed me to lie down. Deeper in the middle, it had a short fountain like a low bubbling geyser in a hot spring. However, the water in the tub was warm, too warm for the sweltering afternoon.

Brebie was too busy to join me on a walk this time. As I strolled alone past the pond in the gardens, the dark water called to me. I descended the narrow path toward it, then toed off my shoes, and waded in. The water was warm but not cooler than in my bathtub.

My skin was sticky with sweat. Brebie had told me I could swim here, but I had nothing in my wardrobe that would serve as a bathing suit.

With a quick glance around to make sure no one was close enough to see me, I untied the laces of the bodice of my dress, then took the whole thing off over my head, staying only in a thin, knee-length undershirt and a pair of panties. These would have to do as a bathing suit.

Wading knee-deep into the pond, I wondered if I could swim. A few days ago, I’d been ready to find it out by taking a plunge into the River of Mists. This pond seemed like a less extreme way to answer that question.

I waded in up to my waist. The water was cooler than the air and felt pleasantly refreshing against my heated skin. Bending my knees, I let the water come all the way up to my chin. Then I pushed off the sandy bottom, stretching in the water horizontally, and made a few strokes with my arms.

My mind didn’t remember, but my body retained the necessary movements. I swam. And it felt exhilarating.

I moved along the shore, careful to stay in an area shallow enough for me to touch the bottom with my feet. After a little while, I had to stop to catch my breath.

It turned out I wasn’t the strongest swimmer. Neither was I very confident about my technique. But I could swim.

This was a thrilling discovery. My memories were gone, but the skills I’d gained in my past were still there. I wondered what else I could do, suddenly feeling excited to try everything and anything under the sky, just to test it all.

Not willing to get out of the water yet, I eyed the giant lily pads on the other side of the pond. I gauged the distance to the first pad under the canopy of a sprawling willow tree and decided I could make it.

I waded in that direction, walking until the water reached my chin. Then I pushed off the bottom and swam. I was nearly out of breath by the time I made it to the lily pad, but I made it.

Up close, the leaf appeared even bigger. It was as large as my bed, surrounded by floating pale-blue flowers the size of dinner plates. The underside of the thick pad was spongy and felt like velvet. The top was glossy and dark. It looked strong and big enough to hold my weight.

Gripping its edge, I kicked my feet and climbed onto the pad. It held, only rocking a little on the surface of the pond.

“Oh, this is lovely,” I muttered to myself, surveying this newfound place.

The branches of the willow tree swayed above me, their leaves rustling softly. This would make a wonderful place for an afternoon nap, had I been tired. But I wasn’t.

I felt restless. Swimming in the cool water energized me. My wet clothes felt refreshing against my flushed skin. I wrung the water out of my hair, then spread over the lily pad to dry as I lay on my back, watching the tree branches swing gently in the barely-there breeze.

A splash of water jolted me with alarm. The sound seemed too loud for a fish or a frog.

I sat up promptly.

A head broke through the surface of the pond next to my lily pad. Water sluiced down the hair—ink-black with a few thick, silver-white strands in the front.

“Voron! What are you doing here?”

He shook the water out of his hair and rested his bent arms on the edge of the pad.

His eyes slowly traveled down my body as he replied, “Swimming to my doom, it appears.”

I glanced down at my chest. My undershirt was still soaking wet. The thin material turned practically transparent, clinging to every curve of my body. It plastered around my breasts, displaying the pink of my areolas and the buds of my nipples that hardened instantly under his heated stare.

“Um…” I threw an arm over my chest.

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