Once they returned to the Royal Palace, Lysandra led Saria straight to her room.
The two sat down on the settee, basking in the silver moonlight.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” the Princess asked, scanning the woman before her for any signs of injury.
The worry and care in her gestures were a stark contrast to the detached, cold act she displayed not long ago in front of Sulla.
“I’m sure. He didn’t do anything. I’m fine,” Saria assured, her voice soft with emotions that budded, nourished by the care she received.
Lysandra’s gaze cast down to her wrists. “What about these?” she asked, pointing at the purple bruises caused by the attempts to free them. “I’ll prepare some medicine.”
Saria grasped her hands and pulled her back to the settee, then forced her to look her in the eyes. “It’s just a bruise,” she said softly, “You can relax now. Everything is fine.”
Lysandra let out a heavy sigh, interlocking their fingers together.
“I was so worried that something had happened to you. That I would lose you too…” her voice trailed.
“But you didn’t. I’m still here,” Saria assured her, “I’m not that easy to get rid of.”
The candlelight flickered in her crimson eyes, so much softer than usual. “Today I got careless, because I was so worried that you were in danger. I’ll be more careful from now on. I promise.”
The frown on Lysandra’s face relaxed, and a delicate smile curved her lips. “We were both trying to save each other, it seems.”
Saria smirked. “Maybe we should stick together from now on. It’s more efficient if we save each other from the same trouble.”
“Perhaps,” purred Lysandra.
Her eyes dropped to the bruises on Saria’s wrists. Her thumbs caressed the strained skin.
“There is one more method to make it heal faster,” she said after a brief pause.
She leaned in and placed a gentle, featherlight kiss on each of the wrists.
Saria’s breath hitched. Her heart lost its rhythm for a split second, causing a faint blush to bloom on her cheeks.
“On second thought, I think I bruised my lips too,” she teased, her voice more tense than she wanted.
Lysandra laughed. “Is that so?” she asked, as her gaze fell to her full, perfectly healthy lips.
Saria nodded, too flustered to speak.
“Well, then I should take care of that too,” Lysandra rasped, closing the distance between them.
Their lips met with gentleness that almost felt bashful. A kiss attempting to be less than it was.
It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. It wasn’t supposed to last longer than a heartbeat.
But the touch betrayed them.
The electrifying sensation that it ignited lifted the veil shrouding the yearning underneath. It pulled them into an embrace that both tried to resist.
Saria’s lips parted, taking in the taste that she craved more than anything. Her tongue traced the inner curve of the cupid’s bow unhurriedly, meticulously.
Like she was trying to carve the shape in her memories.
She tugged at the lower lip. Fuller and even more inviting than the other. She embraced it with her own and drank its taste.
Lysandra gasped from the ravishing sensation, then deepened the kiss.
Their tongues coiled around one another with desperation. They sparred, then danced to the rhythm of something more complex than just desire.
The feelings crept on them, broke them free from the restraints they placed upon themselves.
Lysandra swung her leg over Saria, straddling her, driven by the maddening need to be closer.
Her hands dove into the raven black hair, undoing the already loose braid.
Her hips pressed firmly against Saria, the sensation only making her hunger more unbearable.
She moaned in frustration, clinging closer.
She felt a touch on her thighs. Hands gliding up and disappearing under her pale-blue dress.
They caressed her hips, roamed around her derrière. The moves, tender at first, turned daring as they explored more.
Saria’s hands grasped her waist firmly, drawing another moan from Lysandra.
The sensation absorbed her, devoured her whole.
The provoking thrill that wanted more. More of this. More of her.
Saria guided her, invited her to take whatever she needed.
Her lips moved to her jaw. Placed passionate kisses along the curve of her arching neck.
They trailed down to the shoulders and collarbones.
Lysandra’s sensitive skin burned under Saria’s searing, addicting touch.
But just as she was about to give in to the feeling completely, a knocking at the door interrupted them mercilessly.
“Your Highness, His Radiancy the Emperor is requesting to see you in his office,” the maid’s voice sounded from the hallway.
Saria and Lysandra exchanged glances, then quickly looked away. The actuality of what almost happened between them dawning upon them.
“I’ll be right there,” the Princess answered with a shaken breath and stepped away.
The heart in her chest was beating frantically. Her mind was barely able to register what had happened.
“I’ll go first,” Saria rasped, equally dazed as Lysandra.
She quickly left the room, paying no heed to the surprised maid and guards standing in the corridor, whom she nearly trampled over in the process.
“Good job!” she heard them shout moments before she disappeared around the corner.
She slowed down only after reaching the courtyard leading to the servants’ lodge.
Saria leaned against the column of the portico and finally allowed herself to catch a breath.
Everything that had just happened flashed before her eyes.
The kiss, the frustration, the passion.
It was obvious where the situation was heading if they were never interrupted.
It wasn’t the first time they kissed. In fact, they had already done it enough times to rid themselves of any shyness about it.
However, today it felt different. It wasn’t like all other times, when it was nothing more than an act in front of others.
This time, it was just them. There was no need to pretend. There was no reason for them to kiss other than the fact that they wanted it.
And whether she was willing to admit it or not, the truth was that Saria wanted it more than anything.
Maybe it was the worry she felt, thinking that Lysandra could be in danger. Maybe it was the gratitude for saving her life from Sulla.
Or perhaps it was nothing more than a whim.
She was ready to accept any of those reasons, as long as it distracted her from the truth she knew deep in her heart, but wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
Saria ran her hand through her hair and groaned.
“Why do you have to make this even more complicated?” she complained to herself and slowly dragged her exhausted body to her room.
Something told her that she wasn’t going to sleep peacefully that night.
A man was standing by a cluttered table. Using a magnifying glass, he was completely absorbed by examining a shining gem in his hand.
The polished, evenly cut stone shimmered with a red hue, catching the rays of a small light wisp floating above it.
The man flipped the gem in his hand one more time, then whispered a few words in a long-forgotten language.
When three heartbeats had passed without any reaction, he repeated the same incantation, but the stone remained stubbornly dormant.
“Not this one either,” he muttered to himself and threw the ruby into the pile of other colorful gems littering the table.
Sighing in disappointment, he turned to leave, deciding to resume his search the next day.
That’s when he heard a sound of a crackling fire.
Among the mess, on the only clean spot on the table, a red glyph shone brightly. Fire ignited at its center, burning a folded note into existence.
The man waited for the flames to fade, then took the still vaguely warm note and began reading.
The tracks in Anar Koríth have been covered. There’s nothing left leading back to us.
We still don’t know the whereabouts of the necklace, and The Wolf had gone missing.
Should I come back, or do you want me to continue here?
K.
The man found a clean piece of paper and a quill and quickly scribbled the response, then placed the paper on the same glyph.
The markings flared up, and in the blink of an eye, the message disappeared, consumed by the flames.
In front of another glyph, thousands of kilometers away, another man received a message.
Let the others continue the search. Return to Aervelis. There are things requiring your assistance here.
M.