The next morning dawned gold and clear, the southern sea mist burning away to reveal a world painted in sunlight and salt.
Lara woke to the hush of Sarisa's even breathing, the comfort of their bodies tangled beneath the sheets a kind of intimacy that was both new and achingly familiar.
For a moment she just watched, listening to the gulls beyond the shuttered windows, cataloguing the sense of peace in her own bones.
But duty and the weight of the day came soon enough. Sarisa stretched and yawned, blue eyes bleary, hair tumbling like silk over her bare shoulders.
Lara pressed a kiss to her cheek, murmuring, "Up, Princess. Time to go charm the world."
Sarisa rolled her eyes but smiled, untangling herself to pad across the room and slip into her ceremonial attire: a long tunic of ocean-blue silk, embroidered with silver thread that caught the morning light.
Lara donned her uniform, golden epaulettes and all, pulling her hair back into a neat tail. She made sure to polish her boots until they shone—appearances mattered, and so did the subtle gleam of steel at her belt.
Breakfast was a hurried affair, the table lively with ministers, southern courtiers, and the king's family.
The talk was light but jittery, everyone acutely aware that today was more than a formality: it was a test. The pirates were growing bold. The south needed hope as much as it needed protection.
Lyana met them by the entrance hall, cheeks flushed with excitement.
"The entire market's gathered on the square," she whispered to Sarisa, looping an arm through hers. "I hope you're ready for your adoring public."
Sarisa gave her a tight-lipped smile. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Lara flanked Sarisa as they crossed the palace courtyard, the sun hot on her shoulders.
The southern guards fell in, spears gleaming, a display for the crowd's benefit as much as for protection.
Villagers pressed forward in the streets, faces anxious and curious and hopeful, a ripple of excitement following the royal party.
The market square was alive with sound and color. Stalls lined the edges, bright canopies rippling in the breeze.
A wooden platform had been erected before the steps of the old meeting hall, flanked with banners—Celestian blue and southern green, a symbol of unity.
The king addressed the crowd first, his voice steady as he spoke of hardship, resilience, and the strength of alliance.
The queen followed, her words gentler, reminding the people that fear need not rule their hearts.
Then it was Sarisa's turn. Lara watched as she mounted the steps, notes clasped in her hand, chin high, golden tattoos flashing in the sun.
There was a hush—a stillness, as if the crowd itself were holding its breath.
Sarisa spoke.
"To the people of the Southern Isles," she began, her voice carrying, clear and strong.
"I stand before you not as a stranger, but as your sister—bound by more than treaties, by the promise of a future we all share."
She paused, letting the words sink in. The wind lifted her hair, making her seem almost ethereal.
"These last months, your courage has inspired all of us in the north. You have endured hardship, you have stood against fear, and today I tell you: you will not stand alone."
A murmur ran through the crowd.
"The pirates who threaten your shores, who seek to make you afraid, will not find victory here. The north stands with you. Our navy will patrol your waters, our soldiers will fight alongside yours, and together we will reclaim your peace."
The applause was tentative at first, then swelling as Sarisa continued.
"But I know words are not enough. Action must follow. That is why, starting today, the Celestian treasury will support the rebuilding of damaged ports and compensate families affected by these attacks. No one will be left behind. We will make your homes safe again—not just with swords, but with hope."
A shout of approval, a rising wave of relief and excitement, swept the market. Lara watched Sarisa—shoulders squared, eyes blazing with conviction—and felt her chest ache with pride. This was not just the woman she loved; this was a queen.
"We are stronger together," Sarisa finished. "Let the world see what unity can accomplish."
She stepped back, head bowed. The crowd erupted in cheers—real, joyous, hopeful. Children waved banners. Fishermen wept openly. A dozen voices cried her name. The king himself looked moved.
Lara was the first to clap, her applause thunderous, a grin splitting her face. Lyana was beside herself with glee.
But then, just as the cheers reached their peak, a different sound cut through—a sudden, guttural shout from the edge of the square.
Lara's instincts prickled. She saw the movement: a figure in patched, salt-stained clothes shouldering his way through the crowd, something glinting in his hand.
Knife.
The crowd parted in panic. The pirate—there was no doubt now, the rough tattoos, the wild eyes—lunged up the steps, knife raised for Sarisa. The guards reacted, but Lara was faster.
She vaulted the rail, cutting the distance in two strides. The man's arm arced toward Sarisa a deadly, desperate swing. Lara intercepted, catching his wrist midair, twisting hard. The knife clattered to the wood.
The pirate snarled, fighting back. Lara slammed a knee into his gut, flipping him to the ground in one smooth motion.
He writhed, cursing in a language Lara hadn't heard since her own rough days in the southern ports.
He lunged again—Lara let him, used his own momentum to send him sprawling face-first into the steps.
The crowd gasped, shrinking back. Lara planted a boot on the pirate's back, yanking his arms behind him, and called for the southern guards. They rushed forward, spears at the ready.
"It's over," Lara said, low and lethal. "You'll do no more harm here."
The pirate spat at her feet. "We'll come back," he growled, eyes wild. "The sea belongs to no queen. No king. Not you. Not her."
Lara leaned close, her voice cold. "We'll see about that."
The guards hauled the man away, the crowd buzzing with shock, but no longer afraid. Lara turned to Sarisa, scanning her for wounds. Sarisa was steady—shaken, but unhurt. Her hand found Lara's, squeezing tight.
"You all right?" Lara murmured.
Sarisa nodded, jaw set. "Thanks to you."
Lara gave her a crooked smile. "You were magnificent."
Sarisa laughed, the sound shaky but real. "Remind me to give you a medal later."
Lara winked, squeezing her hand in return. "Only if I can choose where you pin it."
They shared a private smile as the crowd roared again—this time not in fear, but in triumph.
Lyana rushed over, out of breath. "I knew you'd make this memorable! Are you sure you don't want to stay here and fight pirates full-time?"
Lara shrugged, still scanning the perimeter for danger. "It has its appeal. But I go where I'm ordered."
The king stepped forward, addressing the crowd with a booming voice. "Let this be a sign—no threat will break our unity! The north and south stand together."
The people cheered. Sarisa glanced at Lara, eyes shining with gratitude and pride. In that moment, for all the danger, all the risk and chaos, Lara felt more at home than she had in years.
Author's Note
Hello everyone,
Thank you so much for reading and for all your support on this story. I wanted to let you know that there may not be many chapters for a while. I've recently found out I didn't pass into my third year of university, and honestly, I'm feeling pretty down right now. It's taking a toll on my motivation and creativity, so I might need some time to process and find my footing again.
I truly appreciate your patience and understanding. Your comments, enthusiasm, and kindness mean a lot to me, and I hope I'll be able to get back to writing soon. For now, I'm going to focus on taking care of myself and coming back stronger when I'm ready.
Thank you for being here. Please take care of yourselves, too.