She bit her lips and nodded, drifting back a few inches to let him have space.
“I’ll meet you there,” she said.
Then she swam toward the throne. She made it look so easy.
Quince refused to fail. He drew in a deep breath, clenched his jaw, and took a stroke. He barely moved an inch, but at least it was an inch in the right direction. So he took another. And another.
After several strokes and several inches, he wondered why on earth he had sent Lily away. Would it really have hurt his pride so much to have her help him down the aisle? Apparently.
Now it was going to take him an entire year just to make it to the throne.
He didn’t give up. He kept trying, pulling his arms in the motion that Lily had been teaching him. Trying to get his legs to work in a coordinating motion. Swimming on
