The morning's tension lingered in Sarisa's muscles long after the pirate had been hauled away, but the gratitude of the villagers helped chase it from her shoulders.
The rest of the day became a celebration—a parade of food, laughter, and color that spilled out through the winding streets of the southern island town.
The king and queen left Sarisa and Lara in the hands of the locals, trusting the southern guards and a throng of children to serve as their escorts.
Lara, back in her travel uniform and somehow even taller among the southern folk, was instantly besieged by the bravest of the island boys, all begging to see her sword.
Sarisa couldn't help but smile at the way Lara managed to terrify and charm them at the same time—brandishing her blade for a quick, harmless trick, then tossing the smallest one up onto her shoulder like a sack of grain.
The sun was high, the salt breeze dancing through the streets. The village seemed to pulse with a kind of hope Sarisa had never felt before—a future earned, not inherited.
"Princess, General, come! You must see the market!" one of the matrons called, her arms heavy with garlands of blue flowers.
She wove one over Sarisa's hair before Sarisa could protest, the petals cool against her forehead.
Sarisa laughed, bowing her head in gratitude. "Thank you, ma'am. I feel—"
"Beautiful, obviously," Lara drawled, stepping close to tuck a stray lock of Sarisa's hair behind her ear. She didn't lower her voice, and a few villagers around them giggled.
"Shut up," Sarisa muttered, but she couldn't hide the warmth that bloomed in her chest.
They strolled together through the market square, the villagers proudly showing off every stall.
Sarisa tried candied ginger that nearly burned her tongue, and Lara snuck a honeyed fruit from a tray, earning a playful smack on the hand from the vendor.
There were hand-painted pots, coral jewelry, tiny wooden animals carved with such skill that Sarisa found herself unable to resist buying one—a little dolphin—for Aliyah.
But Lara had already beaten her to it. She returned from a nearby booth with a package wrapped in blue silk and pressed it into Sarisa's hands with a crooked grin.
"Open it," Lara said, eyes bright.
Sarisa did. Inside was a delicate hairpin shaped like a flame, forged from copper and inlaid with garnet—the colors of Sarisa's fire, and so finely made it seemed to catch the sun itself.
Sarisa blinked, surprised by the lump in her throat. "Lara—"
Lara only shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "You lost your last one in the north. Figured you should have something that matches you."
Sarisa ran her finger along the metal, then pinned it into her hair with careful hands. "Thank you. It's—perfect."
Their eyes met, and for a moment the world narrowed to just the two of them. Sarisa saw it there, unguarded, in Lara's gaze—the depth of affection, the softness she never let the world see.
Then, as if to shatter the spell, a group of children raced up, tugging on their sleeves and chattering all at once.
"Princess, General! Come! You must make soulmate bracelets! Everyone does at the festival!"
Sarisa raised an eyebrow. "Soulmate bracelets?"
The oldest girl grinned, revealing a gap in her teeth. "You make one for your favorite person, and they make one for you. It brings luck and happiness. And you'll stay together forever, if you wear them."
Lara's lips twitched. "Are you trying to trap us into a magical contract, kid?"
"Only a little," the girl replied, deadpan, and the villagers laughed.
Sarisa found herself swept to a stall shaded by palm fronds, where bowls of colorful beads, shells, and thin, sun-bleached cords were arranged in inviting chaos. Lara rolled up her sleeves with mock gravity.
"Ready to lose, Princess?"
Sarisa gave her a haughty look. "I'll have you know I was the best in my class at intricate spell-weaving."
"Pretty sure that's not the same as making jewelry."
"Shut up and make your bracelet."
They settled opposite each other on woven mats, a half-circle of children gathering to watch and offer unhelpful advice.
Sarisa stared at the assortment before her. The choices were overwhelming: beads of every hue, smooth white shells, even small teeth and bits of bright glass.
She selected a length of red cord—Aliyah's favorite color—then began threading beads, choosing blue and gold to represent both their lineages.
Lara was less subtle. She chose a sturdy black cord, then picked out the gaudiest, most sparkly shells and the brightest yellow and orange beads she could find, snickering every time she managed to thread one without dropping it.
Sarisa pretended not to watch, but she couldn't help glancing up. Lara's tongue was stuck out between her teeth, brow furrowed in concentration, massive hands struggling to tie a knot that was far too tiny for her calloused fingers.
A little boy sitting beside Sarisa piped up, "You should help her, Princess. She looks strong, but look's like she's not so good at crafts."
"I heard that," Lara grumbled, but she accepted the offered help when Sarisa reached across to tie the knot for her.
Their fingers brushed, warm and familiar. Lara's hand lingered a moment longer than necessary.
A chorus of giggles rose from the crowd.
The competition, once lighthearted, grew fierce. Sarisa added more beads, threading in a tiny silver charm shaped like a flame.
She twisted blue and gold cords together, then added a final shell she'd picked because it reminded her of Lara's laugh—bright, unexpected, and a little rough around the edges.
Lara, meanwhile, had stopped following any logic at all, stringing together beads and shells in a wild pattern that somehow—impossibly—looked right.
She finished with a knot so big it could anchor a ship, then looked up with a triumphant grin.
"All right, Princess. Trade."
They exchanged bracelets with solemn ceremony, the children clapping and chanting for them to tie them on each other's wrists.
Lara's massive hands were surprisingly gentle as she slid the riotous creation onto Sarisa's wrist, tying it with a careful double-knot.
Sarisa did the same, fastening the blue-and-gold band around Lara's wrist. It looked shockingly good against her tan skin and battle-scarred arms.
"Now for your daughter !" the children cried, passing them a tiny cord.
Sarisa and Lara worked together, their hands touching, laughing as they threaded beads and shells and a carved dolphin onto the tiny bracelet.
Sarisa remembered all the times they'd crafted spells and protections for Aliyah, all the late nights they'd spent plotting and worrying over her future.
The thought made her smile—soft, proud, a secret the whole world could see.
When they were done, the children cheered, and the villagers gathered close, clapping them on the back, showering them with praise.
"It's tradition," an old man explained, his voice warm. "Soulmate bracelets are a promise. Not a spell. But sometimes, a promise is the best magic."
Lara caught Sarisa's gaze, her expression suddenly serious. "Maybe there's something to it," she said, voice low. "You make me want to keep my promises."
Sarisa's heart stumbled. She managed a smirk, hiding her blush. "Just make sure you don't lose yours in a brawl, General."
"Not a chance," Lara said. "This is a trophy."
As the sun began to lower, the crowd thinned, and Sarisa and Lara wandered down to the edge of the docks, hand in hand.
Children darted around their legs, fishermen sang snatches of old sea shanties, and everywhere Sarisa looked, she saw the bracelets: old women with weathered bands, young lovers with new ones, mothers and daughters, friends and siblings.
Connection made visible. A promise not to be alone.
They found a bench beneath a palm, overlooking the silver sweep of the harbor.
Lara leaned back, stretching her long legs, her new bracelet glittering in the last golden light. "Mine looks better," she said, deadpan.
Sarisa scoffed, elbowing her. "You wish. You've made a necklace for a bear, not a bracelet for a princess."
Lara grinned, holding out her wrist. "Jealous?"
Sarisa pretended to examine it, nose wrinkling in exaggerated judgment. "I'd give it a six out of ten, maybe. Seven for effort."
Lara clutched her chest. "Cruel, Princess. I poured my heart into that. Blood, sweat, and at least three blisters."
"You'd be useless in a sewing circle."
"But very useful in a brawl."
They laughed together, the sound carried away by the breeze.
In that moment, with the sun sinking behind the sails, the smell of salt and spice on the air, Sarisa let herself lean into Lara's side, her head resting on the strong line of her shoulder.
She felt Lara's hand come up, warm and careful, lacing their fingers together. The bracelets pressed together—red and blue, gold and orange, tangled as their hearts.
Maybe there was magic in those bracelets after all.
Author's Notes
Hey everyone,
I'm finally back! After a month-long vacation that turned out to be exactly what I needed, I'm feeling refreshed, motivated, and so ready to dive back into writing. That break was pure magic—now I can't wait to share all the new ideas I've been cooking up.
And yes… for those waiting patiently, there will be more steamy moments between Sarisa and Lara. I know some of you have been hoping for that, and, well… let's just say I've been inspired.
Thank you for your patience and support—you're the best. Let's get back to the fun!