He creeps closer, the water pulsing between us as if it were a heartbeat. His fingers glide up my shoulders. Surprise keeps me from moving, but then I press my body against his. Manuel’s luminous eyes widen a fraction, and then he smiles small. Almost shy.
The words rip out of me. “You were the one whose kiss I wanted most,” I whisper. I tilt my chin upward, and his glowing gaze drops to my mouth.
“If I don’t make it back … you need to know.” He bites his bottom lip, and his uncertainty is the most endearing thing I’ve ever seen. “If I were free to choose what I wanted, free to beanyoneelse, I’d pick you. Over and over again, I’d pick you.”
He gently moves my hands until they grip the craggy wall once more. I’m not ready to let go of him. “Manuel. Espera.”
But before I can say anything else, he disappears.
My fingers dig into the stone. The soft huffs of my breath sound like thunder in my ears. The water laps against the rock, a steady rhythm that echoes my heartbeat. Should I go after him? I don’t want to be alone in this chamber for another second. What if he doesn’t come back? The cloying, dank smell assaults my nose.
My fingers loosen on the ledge. Manuel might need my help. Even now he could be fighting for air, fighting to return to me.
There’s a sudden swell of water and I gasp. He reappears, panting for air. Tears flood my eyes. I let go of the ledge and clumsily swim toward him, reach my arms around his shoulders.
“Estás vivo.” I choke back a sob. “You’re alive.”
Manuel squeezes my waist and a slight tremor goes through him. Then he releases me, and I recognize the change in him. His guard is up again—but the words can never be unsaid. We both know that. “There’s another room at the other end of the tunnel.” His voice becomes matter-of-fact. “You’ll have to swim fast.”
“I’m not a strong swimmer,” I say, fighting panic. “You know that.”
He gently shakes me. “Do you want to live?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”
“Do you want to become queen?”
I try to shove away from him, but he holds on tightly. “You know I do!”
“Then you’ll have to swim to the other side. It’s the only way. You can do this, Condesa—you have to.”
“But—”
He glares at me and my protest dies.
“Are you ready?”
“Of course not,” I wail.
A hint of a smile bends his unyielding mouth. He takes my hand and I inhale until my lungs expand and burn. Then we dip below and Manuel points in the direction of the tunnel. The water is a deep well of gloom. He tugs my hand, and I kick my legs wildly. With my free arm, I push against the water, fighting to go forward. We reach the tunnel together and swim through. But the walls narrow, and Manuel pushes me ahead. I never stop kicking, not even when my lungs start burning.
The mouth of the submerged cave is small, and I use the edge to push myself out. I feel rather than see Manuel behind me. Then he’s beside me, holding my hand again, and we kick to the surface. I come up sputtering, wiping the water from my eyes. This chamber is filled with soft rays of sunlight. The ceiling has plants poking through cracks in the rock formation.
“You did it,” he says with a broad smile. “I’m so proud of you.”
My heart burns as my cheeks flush. I look away, overwhelmed.
“This way,” Manuel says, gesturing toward the edge of the pool. My movements are still awkward, but I manage to stay afloat on my own. I haul myself up, crawl away from the water, and warily get to my feet.
The cave is smaller than I first realized, maybe half the size of the room with the pillars. Behind us are long stretches of hanging vines, varying in thickness. Manuel marches over to the thicket and sweeps them aside, revealing another tunnel.
He looks back at me, then stills, his mouth caught in surprise. His eyes flicker down to my feet and then back up to my face, and warmth spreads over his cheeks. He clears his throat and averts his gaze.
I scrunch my brow and glance down. My tunic and pants stick to my skin, and every line and curve is visible. But instead of feeling embarrassed, I grin. He catches my smirk and his face turns to stone—but his cheeks are still stained red.
Somehow I know if I tease him about it, he’ll only further withdraw behind that wall he’s erected between us. It’s the first time I’ve ever caught him admiring my body. When his gaze isn’t perfectly respectful, his eyes only focus on my face. If there was ever a boy I’d want to stare, it’s Manuel.
“Let’s go,” he says, and vanishes behind the green curtain. I trudge after him, unable to rid the smile from my face. I’ve never seen him blush.
