The second time was out of desperation
The water is past your neck. Kick. Splash. Spit. Swear. Pause. Breathe. Repeat.
" I'm sorry."
You turn to face her. She can't be serious. How is this her fault?
" I sh-sh-should never have left my tower. Mother was right."
Something deep in your guts twists. The crown. The Royal guards. The Sabbington brothers. None of that have anything to do with her.
She shivers. Her lips blue. You can tell by the way her eyelids flutter that she is slipping away. That she is giving up.
Fix this. Now. Buy her some time. For god sake, don't let the poor girl die on her birthday.
You remember how your mother used to comfort you when you were down. A soft brush against your hair. A low lullaby near your ears. A gentle kiss on your forehead. You hope it will be enough for her. For her to stay. To keep fighting.
You open your mouth, ready to say something soothing or encouraging.
" Eugene." Your stupid real name slips out instead.
Her eyes light up and you know that the kiss is no longer necessary.