Steam curled in soft tendrils around Lara's bare shoulders as she stepped out of the guest bath, toweling her hair with one hand and adjusting the knot of the fluffy white towel wrapped around her body with the other.
The enchanted water had done its job. Her muscles were loose, her mind clear, and the persistent tangle of grass-stained chaos had been rinsed away, at least physically.
Her black-and-red hair was damp and curling slightly, clinging to the sides of her face and the back of her neck.
She stretched once, rolling her shoulders until something cracked in that deeply satisfying way, and let out a satisfied sigh.
Then she heard it.
Laughter.
Loud. Wild. Multiple voices.
Lara frowned slightly, tilting her head.
Aliyah, sure. Kaelith, obviously. That was to be expected.
But the third laugh—
That one was deeper.
Richer.
And impossible to mistake.
Sarisa.
Curious and maybe just a little alarmed Lara padded across the polished marble floor, towel securely knotted, leaving faint damp footprints behind her as she headed back toward the main bath chamber.
And when she reached the archway.
She stopped.
And stared.
For a second, she thought she was hallucinating.
The bath was a battlefield of bubbles, overturned brushes, and floating soaps shaped like ducks and stars.
The steam shimmered in the golden light pouring through the enchanted ceiling, casting everything in a warm, ethereal glow.
Kaelith and Aliyah were in the pool, shrieking with laughter, flinging handfuls of suds into the air like confetti.
And in the center of it all—completely soaked, her once-pristine robes clinging to her like a second skin, golden tattoos gleaming faintly beneath the translucent fabric—was Sarisa.
Laughing.
Her moonlight hair hung in heavy waves down her back, damp strands framing her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes brighter than Lara had seen in years.
She looked younger, lighter, like someone had peeled away all the duty, all the expectation, and left the girl underneath—the girl Lara remembered, the one she hadn't seen in too long.
And gods help her, she looked stunning.
Water droplets clung to her jaw, slid down her collarbone, shimmered on the soft curve of her arms.
Lara leaned against the doorway, arms crossed beneath her towel, and raised an eyebrow.
"Well. This is unexpected."
Three heads turned in unison.
Aliyah grinned. "Mama! You missed the war!"
"I heard," Lara said dryly. "Sounded like a siege."
Kaelith pointed dramatically at Sarisa. "She betrayed us! Switched sides! Laughed!"
Lara blinked. "Wait—you laughed?"
Sarisa straightened slightly in the water, suddenly aware of herself again. Her expression shifted just a flicker but Lara saw it. Saw the way the armor tried to slide back into place.
Too late.
Lara smiled.
"Damn. I miss five minutes and suddenly you're Queen of Bubbleland."
Sarisa huffed. "They pushed me."
Aliyah nodded. "It was an emergency."
"She was too dry," Kaelith explained.
"I see." Lara tilted her head, letting her eyes linger just a second longer than necessary. "Well… can't argue with results."
Sarisa gave her a look.
Lara raised a brow. "What? I didn't say anything."
"You thought something."
"Oh, I think a lot of things."
Aliyah splashed a wave in her direction. "You're still in a towel, you know."
Lara looked down. "And yet I still manage to look cooler than all of you."
"You're damp," Kaelith pointed out.
"I'm dramatically misted."
Sarisa rolled her eyes, but Lara saw the curve at the corner of her mouth.
The girls went back to their chaos summoning bubble armor, proclaiming the ducks as royal stewards of the new kingdom but Lara didn't move.
She watched Sarisa through the mist and the laughter, watched the way she let herself relax in tiny degrees, piece by piece.
This wasn't the version of Sarisa that presided over council meetings or dictated policy in clipped tones. This was the woman Lara had fought beside once.
The woman who had sat beside her on ruined castle steps, cradling a newborn wrapped in soft flame and swearing she didn't know how to be a mother but that she would try anyway.
Lara had never forgotten that night.
She just hadn't known how much she missed that version of Sarisa.
Until now.
"I hate to be the voice of doom," Lara said after a beat, "but unless we want to walk into dinner soaking wet and foaming at the seams, we might want to start drying off."
"No," came the immediate answer from both children.
"You'll get diplomatic immunity," Kaelith added.
Sarisa sighed. "They'll only start without us if they think we're dead."
"I can fake an injury," Aliyah offered. "Kaelith, hit me with a soap dragon."
Kaelith stood, preparing to launch.
"No one's faking injuries," Lara said, laughing. "Sarisa, back me up here."
Sarisa hesitated.
For a second, Lara thought she might actually not back her up.
But then she stood, rising slowly from the water, drenched from collarbone to ankle, hair clinging to her like melted moonlight.
She turned toward the girls, lifting a commanding hand—and with the ease of a seasoned diplomat said:
"You have exactly five minutes to finish your bubble monarchy, then it's time to get out and prepare."
The girls groaned in unison.
"But—"
"No 'but's. Five minutes."
Aliyah sighed dramatically. "You're strict again."
Sarisa gave her a wry look. "Someone has to be."
Lara watched it all unfold, towel still securely knotted, arms still crossed—and smiled.
She didn't say anything as Sarisa stepped out of the bath, water dripping from her hemline and trailing onto the marble floor.
She didn't comment on how the light caught her tattoos or how effortlessly regal she looked, even soaked.
But her thoughts?
Oh, they were loud.
Dangerously loud.
And not the kind she could afford to speak aloud.
Not yet.
Instead, she cleared her throat and said, "You've got soap on your ear."
Sarisa blinked, wiping it away with the back of her hand. "Better?"
"Worse," Lara deadpanned. "Now it's in your hair."
Sarisa gave her the driest look imaginable.
Lara held up her hands. "Hey, don't glare at me. I'm not the one who tried to conquer the bath kingdom."
"I was pushed."
"Sure you were."
Sarisa muttered something that sounded distinctly unprincesslike under her breath and headed for the towel rack.
Lara followed with a smirk, stepping back as the girls declared one final splash war behind them.
And as they left the bath behind, warmth and laughter still echoing in their wake, Lara felt something shift in her chest.
Not painful. But noticeable. A little louder than it used to be.