I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 226: Side - : Lara the player part 8

Morning light crept through the high arched windows like a nosy intruder, slanting golden rays across polished marble and velvet curtains.

The Celestial palace was infuriatingly serene for a place that had seen attempted murder, magical smoke attacks, and a very recent naked wrestling match of emotionally confusing proportions.

Lara woke with a groan.

Her first thought?

Why are my arms numb?

Her second?

Why the hell do my wrists feel like they’re still being hugged by a thousand-year-old enchantment?

And her third?

Oh gods... I’m naked.

She blinked rapidly as her surroundings came into focus. Moonlit silks. Ornate crystal sconces. A ridiculous amount of pillows.

Serisa’s room.

And there, wrapped around her like a sleepy, judgmental snake, was the princess herself. Her dark brown skin shimmered under the light, moonlight-colored hair spilling over Lara’s shoulder.

Her leg was hooked over Lara’s hips with intent, and her head was tucked into Lara’s neck like this was the most normal way two people should fall asleep—completely entangled, completely exposed, and apparently with golden binding chains still intact.

Lara stared at her own hands, still delicately restrained, glowing softly with that smug Celestial magic.

"Great," she muttered. "Woke up imprisoned. Again. That’s like... the third time this month."

She shifted slightly. Serisa didn’t budge.

Lara’s brain caught up with her situation in painful, fragmented flashbacks. Last night. The smoke. The fight. The glare. The golden bindings.

Then—

Serisa words. Her actual words, now branded onto Lara’s brain for all eternity.

"I already hate you. It won’t change anything. Just fuck me already. That’s what I want since I first saw you."

Lara groaned and dragged the nearest pillow over her face.

"WHY are the hottest women always the most unhinged," she whispered, muffled into silk.

And that’s when Serisa moved.

Still half-asleep, the princess curled tighter around her, muttering something in Celestial. One eye cracked open, lazily, and met Lara’s with a glare far too awake for someone who looked so cozy.

"...You’re loud in the morning," Serisa rasped.

"You chained me to a bed!" Lara snapped, lifting her bound hands. "Also, I’m naked! And so are you!"

"You weren’t complaining last night."

"I wasn’t possessed by horny fog anymore, and I don’t think we were talking at all! You literally said—!"

"I know what I said."

Serisa pushed herself up on one elbow, hair a tousled halo around her, looking entirely too smug for someone whose first words of the day involved passive aggression and nudity.

Lara flopped back on the pillow, groaning. "This is the most embarrassing way to almost die.

Forget assassins. My actual end will be ’found naked, magically restrained, and emotionally compromised in enemy diplomat’s bed.’ Great job, me."

"Captain," Serisa said, stretching with feline elegance. "If I were your enemy, you’d be dead."

"Oh good," Lara muttered. "That makes it better."

Serisa slid off the bed, graceful and casual and somehow still composed even with nothing on.

Lara turned her face dramatically to the ceiling. "Can we get my hands un-shackled, please? I can’t even scratch my nose without committing accidental flirting."

Serisa raised one brow as she slipped on a robe. "Are you always this dramatic in the morning?"

"I haven’t had coffee and my dignity is bleeding out on the floor—so yes."

With a flick of her fingers, the golden chains released Lara’s wrists. Lara sighed in relief, flexing her fingers.

"Thank you," she said. Then added under her breath, "Finally."

"I heard that."

"Yeah, yeah."

Lara sat up slowly, clutching the nearest pillow to her chest like a shield. "So. Last night happened."

"Obviously."

"And we’re...?"

Serisa paused by her dressing table, not meeting her eyes. "Still not interested in you."

Lara scoffed. "You have a terrible way of showing disinterest."

Serisa’s eyes flicked to hers, then away again. "Last night was a mistake."

"A very consensual mistake."

The princess smirked, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"I should hate you more than I do," she said softly. "But I don’t have the energy right now."

Lara, for once in her life, didn’t have a witty comeback. She just sat there, pillow clutched, heart thudding in awkward silence.

They stayed that way for a beat. Two warriors. Two disasters. Two completely incompatible political representatives with one very shared memory that involved moaning, magic, and a rather unfortunate glass swan that got knocked off the shelf mid-enthusiasm.

Lara cleared her throat and finally swung her legs off the bed. "Right. Well. I need a very long cold shower before breakfast."

"And a better memory," Serisa muttered.

Lara grinned despite herself. "You mean that?"

The princess didn’t respond. She just turned, that unreadable look back on her face as she pulled her robe tighter and headed toward the far door.

As Lara moved to grab her scattered clothes from the floor, she muttered to herself.

"Next time Malvoria sends me on a ’peaceful diplomatic trip’—I swear I’m jumping into a volcano instead."

---

Lara walked into the dining hall with the smooth, calculated calm of a woman who had no business being calm.

Her uniform was crisp, her hair tied back neatly—like she hadn’t spent the night completely naked, shackled by celestial magic, and verbally eviscerated by a glowing goddess in a silk robe.

She looked fine.

She felt like a kicked beehive.

The Celestial breakfast table, as usual, was too damn elegant for a meal that involved eggs.

Golden cutlery, iridescent porcelain plates, enchanted pitchers pouring rosewater tea. Light streamed through the towering windows, and everything smelled faintly of honeysuckle and lavender.

And there she was. Serisa. Already seated. Already eating. Already not glaring.

That was new.

Lara approached slowly, half-expecting another magical trap or scathing insult, but Serisa only looked up, met her eyes briefly, then went back to slicing a piece of starfruit like nothing had happened.

Lara slid into the seat across from her, one brow raised. "Good morning."

A pause. Then Serisa, without looking up, replied, "Captain."

That was it.

No glares. No snide remarks. Just the faintest hint of a blush at the tips of Serisa’s ears, which Lara noticed with far too much satisfaction.

They ate in a weird, quiet sort of truce. Lara buttered her toast with more precision than necessary. Serisa ignored her.

Mostly. Every now and then their eyes would meet across the table, and one of them would immediately look away.

This is fine, Lara thought. This is normal. Just two diplomats. Having breakfast. Definitely didn’t sleep together. Definitely not thinking about it every damn second.

She was halfway through a honey-glazed croissant when the Queen of the Celestial High Courts entered the room.

The air shifted immediately. A wave of reverence moved through the attendants and guards like a ripple on a pond.

"Your Majesties," the steward called.

Everyone rose. Lara wiped her fingers on a napkin and stood as the Queen glided forward in robes of shifting starlight, her presence demanding attention without a single word.

"Please, sit," the Queen said, voice smooth as moonlight over still water.

Everyone obeyed.

Lara straightened in her chair as the Queen’s sharp gaze passed over the table, lingering a heartbeat longer on her and Serisa before continuing. The silence that followed was expectant, heavy.

And then, calmly, the Queen said—

"We caught the murderer this morning."