Chapter 5 Part 4

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AN: Thanks for the 317 reads and 99 votes! -Sam

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I raked at the water as I tried to climb my way to a breath, but the rope wrapped around my ankle kept me from the surface. I reached down and tried to untangle myself as my air dwindled. Two slitted eyes, reflecting the bit of sunlight penetrating the water, stared up at me from the river's bottom—watching me drown.

This wasn't how I wanted to die. Young, alone, suffocating for air while this hateful creature looked on.

A burst of blue light exploded from somewhere above me and illuminated the river serpent as clearly as if I were looking at it on the surface. Several somethings pierced the water, kicking up a torrent of bubbles and the water erupted in a flurry of movement and sound that sent me spinning. I gasped, and icy water rushed into my mouth, choking me with its frigid touch.

Warm lips pressed against mine, drawing me out from the dark and the cold my soul had been languishing in. Those lips retreated like a wave pulling away from the shore, and I let out a silent cry, wanting them to return. To pull me even more out of the dark and the cold.

Then a fist slammed into the center of my chest and I sat bolt upright and threw up at least a bucket of water.

Around me, men and women were speaking in Ilter, Incartha's native tongue, too quickly for me to pick up every word, but I caught a few phrases here and there.

"....miracle..."

"Lucky they..."

"...reckless foreigners..."

The people crowding around me all wore tunics in muted shades of brown and green, stretching to their knees, and loose-fitting silk pants underneath, not at all like the bright colors I was accustomed to seeing Incarnians dressed in.

Their appearance was typical of the region—black eyes, hair, and skin the hue of acorns. However, one figure stood out—the boy kneeling beside me. His hair was a shade lighter, his eyes gray. Water trickled down his well-defined chest and muscular arms.

For a fleeting second, I thought he might be Prince Adil because of the resemblance he bore to him. But he was too broad-shouldered—his cheekbones and his nose too sharp to be the bookish boy I was to wed.

"Is this your entire hunting party?" the gray-eyed stranger asked in flawless Faevent, jerking his head to where the three Jamies stood in the circle of people surrounding us.

I opened my mouth to respond and more water poured from my lips, followed by another fit of coughing.

"Aye, it's just us," Freckled-Jamie replied, his voice strained with concern.

The boy looked around at the Incarthians surrounding, amusement filling his face. "They were trying to hunt the river serpent with just the four of them?" he said in Ilter. "Maybe we should have let it eat them." He looked back at me. "The world needs fewer stupid people."

At this, the crowd erupted with whoops of laughter

I felt my cheeks heat. "I would watch what you say to me. I'm betrothed to a prince of Incartha!" I snapped in Ilter.

Instead of the look of horror I was hoping for, the boy just raised his eyebrows at me.

"Oh? And which prince might that be? The royal family has three sons," he also replied in Ilter.

"Prince Adil, the third prince," I answered, wiping my mouth on the back of my sleeve, finally having expelled all the water from my lungs.

"So you must be Lady Valentina Ashwood."

I blinked at the stranger in surprise. "How do you know my name?"

He grabbed my chin, tilting my face up. "You do look like your portrait," he muttered. "Damn, I guess I owe Yash ten ruperts."

In an instant, all three Jamies were trying to push their way through the crowd to get to me. But several men and women stepped in front of them, their eyes glowing with rings of blue power, their hands glowing with that same light.

"Relax, I am not going to hurt your lady," the gray-eyed stranger said to my friends, switching to Faevent. He straightened to his full height, grabbed me by my hand, and yanked me up to my feet.

Now upright, I could see past the crowd, to the river's bank, where the massive sea serpent lay in the mud like a discarded piece of ribbon, unmoving—its slitted eyes clouded with death.

"Adil would never forgive me if I harmed her. She's all he talks about lately. I should introduce myself properly. I am Prince Orin Hassened of Incartha, the second son of Queen Odessa and King Rama, and your soon-to-be brother-in-law," His attention returned to me. "And as my first gift to you as your brother." He reached into his pants pocket and handed me a scale he must have cut from the river serpent. "A reminder to not make bad decisions."

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