Chapter 68 : Death of a White Queen

Hanna

The waves were lapping against the shore in a graceful, rhythmic pattern. I like this water. It was frigid, biting, and sent a jolt of electricity through my body whenever I reached my hand down into the rocks and let it glide over my bare skin.

Rowan swam in it on occasion. I loved to watch him as he did laps back and forth along the breakwater where the water was calm and safe from the swirling rip currents. We had been taking long walks together lately, always ending at the port. I would perch on a rock and watch him dive into the water, his chestnut hair clinging to his skin as he moved gracefully against the heavy silt. Like a seal, I thought with a smile. Or an otter. My Rowan.