there was a powerful current in the water, one that was even stronger now that she had no foothold and they had come so much farther into the tunnel. The current dragged on her so powerfully that she was certain, had it not been for that hand on her arm, she would have been swept away.
“Hold on to me,” he instructed calmly, pulling her arm up and around his big neck.
Ambrea had never been so grateful for the warmth of another body. In truth, it was a terribly unfamiliar sensation. No one ever had or, she imagined, ever would touch her with such familiarity. She was a princess of the blood, whether she was approved of or not, and no one was allowed to touch her in such a way, nor would they even think of doing so. The last person to touch her so fully had been, she realized, her mother. She remembered her mother hugging her brutally hard because, Ambrea now knew, they had been about to take Junessa away to the wet rooms, from where she had never returned. Perhaps this was the real reason why Ambreafelt such suffocating dread whenever a command was handed down that sent her to the catacombs. The catacombs’ reputation had begun for her long before her first childhood incarceration.
But the Tarian did not give Ambrea any chance to dissemble about the familiarity in his handling of her, nor did she want to as her heart raced with fear. If she had been cold before, now she was freezing. The cold, wet weight of her hair dragged behind her in the water as he hoisted her up against his chest, seating her backside onto his forearm and guiding her legs around his thick waist. Her skirt was wrapped around her thighs and she was still submerged up to her chin, but clearly he had his feet on the floor of the tunnel and was pushing against the current to bring them back to Suna.
“For the love of Kintara, will you stop screaming?” he bellowed down the tunnel. “Would you draw them a map to find us?” He spit out water. “You’d best hold on tighter than that,” he warned Ambrea.
She awkwardly tried to do so, but she was hyperconscious of how close in contact they were. She didn’t care about propriety in these circumstances, but it just felt so alien, as did the strength of his radiating body warmth. On the one hand she wanted it because she was about to shake out of her own skin with the coldness of it all. On the other hand there was something so indelibly strange about being this close to him. The heat he exuded was only part of it. It was the peculiar burning sensation from within herself that truly baffled her. She had never felt anything like it before, and it was overwhelming. She went hot with a blush, feeling embarrassed without knowing exactly why.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” she shuddered, fumbling at his wet, bare shoulders. His skin was so slick, and he had done away with the stunner apparently in his bid to come after her, so she couldn’t find the strap to hang on to.
“Like this,” he instructed, making her lock both hands together at the base of his neck.
And just like that she was able to settle down against him. She was amazed that he wasn’t shivering as much as she was, or maybe she couldn’t feel it because she was shaking so hard herself. Maybe the fact was that everyone was tougher and more stoic than she was.
“I thank you,” she thought to say. For years she had been punished for thanking anyone of lower rank, but once her governess had been taken from her and after her first incarceration, she had been in charge of her own household. She had felt more and more compelled over the years to be grateful to those who served her. Especially when they did so in spite of her being in arrears of their payroll for months, once even as long as a year. In those times she had fed and housed those servants and their families, selling her Delran platinum plate and jewelry to do so. She had been indebted to them for their loyalty and services. The least she could do was thank them for those