I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 223: Side - : Lara the player part 5

If audio player doesn't work, press Reset or reload the page.

Chapter 223: Side Chapter: Lara the player part 5

Night had fallen like a velvet curtain over the Celestial palace, casting soft indigo shadows across the polished marble floors.

The stars outside shimmered with an almost theatrical brightness, as though aware of how tense the atmosphere was in the chamber Lara had been unceremoniously assigned to share.

Serisa’s room was large far too large, in Lara’s opinion for someone who clearly hated company.

The walls were made of smooth stone, veined with silver and starlight quartz that glowed faintly in the dark.

High arched windows let moonlight spill in across the gleaming floor, catching on sheer curtains that shimmered like the night sky itself.

An open balcony jutted out into the cool air, framed by flowering vines that curled along the carved balustrade.

The furniture was elegant but severe obsidian wood inlaid with gold, thick velvet cushions in dark blue and royal purple.

And in the center, like a queen on her throne, stood a massive canopy bed draped in silver gauze, its carved posts spiraled like columns in a temple.

Everything smelled faintly of lavender and ozone.

Lara stood awkwardly near the door, arms crossed, her sword belt still slung low on her hips. She’d refused to take off her boots.

Partly because she didn’t trust this situation. Partly because she wanted Serisa to know she wasn’t here to play house.

Across the room, the Celestial princess sat primly at a writing desk, her posture perfect, back ramrod straight, quill poised delicately in her fingers.

Her deep brown skin glowed in the candlelight, and the golden tattoos on her arms pulsed faintly as if alive.

Her moonlight hair was pulled into a neat braid that looked like it hadn’t moved in five hours. Her mismatched eyes: silver and aqua had not stopped glaring since Lara had entered the room.

The tension was so thick Lara could slice it with her dagger and serve it on a plate.

"This is unnecessary," Serisa muttered without looking up. "I do not need a guard. Certainly not you."

Lara rolled her eyes and collapsed onto the cushioned chaise near the window with a groan. "You say that like I want to be here."

"You didn’t seem reluctant at breakfast."

"Was that a joke, Your Highness? Careful, or I might believe you have a sense of humor."

Serisa’s pen scratched violently against the paper.

Lara watched her for a few seconds, then flopped onto her side with a dramatic sigh. "You know, you’re a lot prettier when you’re not trying to incinerate me with your eyeballs."

The pen snapped in Serisa’s fingers. "Do you ever shut up?"

"Not unless unconscious. Or kissing. Neither of which are currently happening."

Serisa turned sharply, rising to her feet, her silk robe flowing around her like a cape. "If you think for a moment that your childish flirting will get you anywhere—"

"Stars above," Lara groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "I wasn’t trying to flirt this time. I’m just trying to get through this night without having a dagger thrown at my head. Can you at least pretend we’re not two cats in a sack?"

Serisa huffed, crossing her arms. "I don’t like this."

"No one does. That’s what makes it fun."

The princess scowled, stepping toward the balcony and letting the wind pull at her braid. "You’re infuriating."

"And you’re a sparkling ball of sunshine."

Another glare. Lara couldn’t help it—she grinned.

The silence that followed was thick, tense, but not as angry as before. Lara sank deeper into the cushions, kicking her boots off one at a time and muttering under her breath. "She’s gorgeous and terrifying. Why is that my type?"

She glanced toward Serisa again, who was now pretending not to be listening. She leaned on the balcony rail like some divine sculpture brought to life, and for a moment, Lara forgot how to blink.

"Do you ever stop staring?" Serisa snapped, not turning around.

"You’re hard not to look at."

The princess sighed loudly. "You’re lucky I don’t report you for inappropriate conduct."

"You’re lucky I didn’t faint when you appeared naked in front of me."

Serisa finally turned, face flushed. "I didn’t appear! You were spying!"

"I wasn’t spying! I was following an assassin and accidentally got rewarded with a very educational view!"

"You’re insufferable!"

Lara flung her arm over her eyes and groaned. "Oh my stars, I don’t even want to seduce you anymore. I just want you to stop talking."

"You never stop talking!"

"I can’t help it! My mouth runs when I’m anxious, and you’re terrifying!"

They both froze. Then—

Something hissed softly.

Lara sat up straight.

From beneath the door, a faint, curling thread of gray smoke slithered into the room like a whisper.

At first, it was nearly invisible just a ghost of movement.

But then it thickened, turning from pale gray to something darker, almost violet, with an iridescent sheen that shimmered faintly under the flickering candlelight. It didn’t crawl, it flowed, like it knew exactly where it wanted to go.

Lara stared at it from her seat near the window, arms folded and boots still on, unimpressed.

"Oh great," she muttered. "Mystery smoke. That’s never a good sign."

But as she breathed, nothing changed. No dizziness. No strange heat. No illusions. Just a faint scent, something sweet and floral, drifting lazily in the air.

Her senses stayed sharp. Her body didn’t tingle. Her thoughts weren’t fogged. It did nothing to her.

But Serisa?

The princess froze where she stood by her desk, her brows furrowed tight. Her lips parted slightly as though she were trying to catch her breath, and a light sheen of sweat began to glisten along her temples.

Her mismatched eyes widened not in fear, but with something rawer, less guarded.

Lara straightened, watching her carefully. "You okay?"

Serisa didn’t answer.

Instead, she blinked slowly, her pupils dilating, her posture stiffening before she turned her full attention toward Lara.

It was subtle at first the tilt of her head, the flicker of something too intense in her gaze but then her bare feet crossed the polished floor in slow, deliberate steps.

"Okay, this is weird," Lara said, holding her hands up, still casual but wary. "Don’t take this the wrong way, Princess, but you’re kind of looking at me like I’m dessert."

Serisa didn’t respond. Her fingers twitched at her sides like she was resisting something—or not resisting at all.

Lara rose from the couch cautiously. "You’re not really the type to get handsy, right? I mean, I’ve been wrong before, but—"

In a flash of movement faster than Lara expected, Serisa closed the distance between them.

She pressed Lara back against the tall, carved post of the bed, hands flat on either side of her shoulders, caging her in. Her breath was quick, her skin flushed, and her gaze sharp as a blade.

"Serisa?" Lara said, voice tight. "What’s going on?"

Serisa didn’t answer.

She leaned in closer, closer still and then, with a sudden, fevered intensity, she moved to kiss her.