Page 98 of City of Secrets and Shadows
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Not a fan of relinquishing control, are you, Lady Cantius?”
“Would you be in my position?” I countered.
“Fair point.” He moved closer. “May I?” he asked, extending his hands.
I nodded reluctantly.
His hands were warm against my back and shoulder as he guided me to lean backward. “Breathe deeply and allow your chest to rise. The air in your lungs will help you float.”
I followed his instructions, trying to ignore the strange intimacy of his touch. As I leaned back, the water rose to my ears, partially muffling the sounds of the chamber.
“Good,” his voice came from what seemed like a great distance. “Now extend your arms out to the sides, like wings.”
The moment I moved my arms, I felt myself starting to sink. Panic flared, and I flailed, splashing water everywhere.
Jalend’s hands caught me firmly around the waist, steadying me. “I’ve got you,” he said, his face suddenly very close to mine. “You need to trust the water — and me.”
Our eyes locked for a moment, and I felt a strange flutter in my chest that had nothing to do with fear of drowning.
“Let’s try again,” he said, his voice softer now. “This time, I’ll support you more until you’re comfortable.”
One arm slid beneath my back, the other beneath my knees, and suddenly I was floating, cradled in his arms. The sensation was peculiar — weightlessness combined with the solid strength of his support.
“Breathe slowly,” he instructed. “Feel the water holding you up. I’m going to gradually remove my support, but I’ll be right here.”
True to his word, he slowly withdrew his arm from beneath my knees, then began to ease his other arm away from my back, leaving just his palm providing minimal support.
“You’re floating on your own now,” he said, pride evident in his voice.
I realized he was right — my body lay suspended at the surface, held aloft by nothing but water and the air in my lungs. A strange exhilaration swept through me.
“It’s... incredible,” I admitted.
“The first time I floated like this, I couldn’t believe it either,” he said, still keeping a hand lightly against my back. “I was five years old, terrified of the water. My father ordered a servant to throw me into a lake and told me to swim back to shore.”
The casual mention of such cruelty from a father startled me. “That seems harsh for a child.”
His face closed off slightly. “My father’s only son isn’t allowed the luxury of fear.”
“I understand that,” I said quietly, and his grey eyes fixed on me for a moment before he nodded, then moved his attention back to our lesson.
“Thank you. Now, shall we continue? Let’s try moving through the water next.”
For the next hour, he patiently taught me the basics of swimming — how to kick my legs, how to use my arms to propel myself forward, how to turn my head to breathe while moving. Despite my initial reluctance, I found myself enjoying the sensation of gliding through the water, the feeling of strength and freedom it provided.
“You’re a quick learner,” he commented as I completed my third lap across the pool’s width. “Most nobles take much longerto master these basics. They’re too concerned about getting their hair wet.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “Perhaps I’m not like most nobles.”
“No,” he said thoughtfully, “you’re certainly not.”
We paused at the edge of the pool, both breathing a little harder from the exertion. The silence stretched between us, not uncomfortable but charged with something I couldn’t quite name.
Jalend seemed unusually quiet, his gaze distant as he stared across the water.
“Is everything alright?” I asked, surprising myself with the concern in my voice.
He blinked, as if pulling himself from deep thoughts. “Forgive me. I’m a bit distracted this morning.”
