After enduring a particularly brutal water torture, my sister clenched my jaw, "Pray you conceive with the king's seed on your first try, or you'll endure much worse."
She released me, and I collapsed, gasping and coughing up water, my chest aflame with burning pain.
Two weeks later, King Samuel visited again.
My sister swapped me in once more, but this time, Samuel's spirits seemed low.
When I reached to loosen his belt, he stopped me, gripping my hand and guiding me to sit beside him on the bed.
After a lengthy silence, curiosity got the best of me and I looked up at him.
My brother and I had honed a unique skill from our days in seclusion—we could see better in the dark than most.
Under the moon's glow, his features were drawn tight, his eyes shadowed with fatigue, his profile strikingly noble.
Truly a vision, no wonder my sister was so taken with him.
I gently caught his hand, and as he turned to face me, I softly pressed my fingers to his brow, smoothing away the creases.
He remained still, seemingly relishing the calm.
Eventually, he lowered my hands and clasped them warmly in his.