Lysandra dismissed the servant girls waiting for her in the other washroom, switching roles with Saria.
While she was stripping down, the Princess realized that this could be the most difficult bath she had ever taken.
After everything they had been through in such a short time, there was no time or place to indulge in inappropriate thoughts.
Yet, she couldn’t stop focusing on Saria’s presence as she was taking off her clothes.
“Do you need help with that?” The question rang next to the Princess’ ear, coloring it pink.
Her breath hitched as Saria’s arms enveloped her from behind and started undoing the knot on the belt of her dress.
“It’s alright. I can do this myself,” Lysandra protested, though her shaking voice didn’t give her much credibility.
Saria tensed. After a moment of consideration, she put her hands on the Princess waist and turned her around.
Lysandra gasped in surprise and froze, standing face to face with her lover.
“You’re pushing me away,” Saria frowned. The expression showing hurt rather than anger.
The Princess sighed. She leaned against Saria, clutching her tunic tightly. “I am. But not for the reasons you think,” she admitted.
“Why then?”
“I’m scared,” quavered Lysandra. She raised her head and met Saria’s worried gaze. “I’ve seen you fight, I’ve seen you hurt, sometimes really badly, but… it was… different,” she faltered.
“Different?”
Lysandra nodded. “When you were sleeping in the carriage, and I was holding you in my arms, it was the first time I realized how frail you are.”
Saria was dumbfounded. “I’m not frail,” she argued.
I took all that beating and survived and somehow that makes me frail!? She pouted in her heart.
“Yes, you are. You made it so easy to see you as some kind of superbeing that can overcome even the worst injuries like it was nothing.” Lysandra closed her eyes, feeling tears welling in them. “But today, every time you closed your eyes, I kept feeling this fear in my heart. What if you weren’t going to wake up?”
Lysandra nuzzled Saria’s neck, taking in her scent, loving every second of it. She felt how it enveloped her heart with warmth and comfort, and she wished it to last like this forever.
“Today reminded me that, after all, you are just a person who hurts and bleeds and… dies like everyone else.”
Saria took the Princess’ hand and pressed it tightly to her own chest. “Can you feel it?” she whispered.
Lysandra hummed in response.
“It’s beating stronger than ever,” Saria continued. “I meant what I said back then. I have more reasons than ever to live. I’m not going to give up that easily.”
Embraced by warmth and Saria’s steady heartbeat, Lysandra felt the tension slowly disappear. “Just promise me you won’t do anything strenuous today. Take it easy and rest,” she pleaded.
The answer came in the form of a dazzling smile that beamed on Saria’s face. “Your wish is my command, Your Highness.”
“It was a command,” the Princess narrowed her eyes.
Saria kissed her hand, the smile on her face turning roguish. “Your command is my pleasure,” she purred.
The mischief in her eyes was more than Lysandra’s heart could handle. Her anxiety faded in an instan,t leaving the Princess giggling.
Quickly she fixed her expression to appear at least a little bit intimidating.
“Stop flirting and take me to my bath,” she said, fighting the corners of her lips from rising.
Saria obediently followed her lover’s command. She helped Lysandra step into the tall wooden tub filled with warm water.
She grabbed a bar of soap and got to work.
Saria’s hair was still wet, so she left it loose. As she leaned over Lysandra, one of the long dark strands slipped from her shoulder and fell into the water.
The Princess took it out and started coiling it around her finger.
“You seem to like my hair a lot,” Saria noted cheerfully.
“I do,” Lysandra hummed, focused on the lock dark as night in her hand. “When I was a little girl, I wanted to have hair like this, too. Like my mother.”
“You and Loukios both have the same hair color.”
“Mhm.” The Princess nodded, absorbed in the silky touch of Saria’s hair. “A sign that the Blood of Aelius is flowing in our veins,” she said. “Golden eyes, golden hair… even my skin.”
Lysandra raised her arm and rotated it a few times. Her skin reflected the candlelight with a golden shimmer, as if it were coated with millions of tiny golden flakes.
Saria carefully traced her fingers against the Princess forearms, not hiding her surprise. “I always thought it was some fancy skin care thing.”
“Unfortunately, it’s au naturel,” Lysandra laughed sourly.
“You don’t like it?”
“It made me feel even more disconnected from my roots. I’m half Shahrezi, but beyond speaking the language, I don’t have much to show for it. I’m half Aelian but don’t feel like it either.” Lysandra sighed. “Most of my life, I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. Like there is no place I can call home.”
Saria placed a tender kiss on the Princess’ palm. “You belong to me.”
“And you to me,” Lysandra smiled softly, enjoying the warmth of her lover’s touch and her love.
Not long after, her smile faded, and a deep frown showed up on her face. “All that, but I’m missing the only valuable thing this blood could give,” she groaned.
“Your family’s magic?” Saria guessed.
“Yes.” Lysandra stared at her own reflection in the water for a moment. “Everything that happened today could have been avoided if I weren’t so useless.”
A deep crease appeared between Saria’s eyebrows. “Why would you say that?”
“If I had my family’s magic, I could have protected you.” Lysandra pulled her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. “Instead, I was nothing more than a burden,” she said, shrinking in herself.
Hearing this, Saria was not happy. Not even the slightest. “If that’s the case, then I’m glad you have no magic,” she said, the crease between her eyebrows getting longer. “If having no magic keeps you from throwing yourself into the first line of danger, then I hope it stays this way.”
“How can you say that?” Lysandra’s head shot up. “You were so exhausted, pushing yourself to your limits, and I couldn’t do anything. If Eris didn’t show up…”
“We would both be dead,” Saria admitted. “All these years of training, killing, even my blood magic, weren’t enough. There still had to be someone to save us.”
“But it should have been me!” lashed out Lysandra and regretted it immediately. Saria wasn’t the one she should be directing her anger at.
She fell back into the tub, pressed her hand to her forehead, and sighed. “It’s stupid, but I can’t stop feeling inadequate. Like I’m not good enough to be with you.”
What was previously incomprehensible to Saria, with this one addition, finally made sense. The tension in her muscles immediately dissipated, her expression relaxed, and her voice returned to her usual softness.
“That is not true,” she said, taking Lysandra’s hand in hers. “When Sulla kidnapped me, it was you who came to my rescue. When I woke up without memories and didn’t know what to do, you were the one to reach out to me and guide me.
“You didn’t need to know how to fight or have magic to do any of those things. This time, we both needed saving by someone else. There is nothing wrong with that.”
Saria pressed her lips to Lysandra’s hand, caressing it with a kiss full of gratitude and love. “You have done for me more than anyone else,” she said.
The Princess felt deeply touched by her lover’s words. Everything Saria said always had the ability to calm her heart. “You really feel this way?”
“I do. You saved my life, my soul, and you keep doing it every day,” Saria declared.
The corners of Lysandra’s lips turned upwards. “I saved your soul?”
“You did,” Saria admitted, then started fidgeting nervously. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about, but we never had a chance.”
“What is it?” asked Lysandra, carefully observing the sudden anxiousness in her lover’s eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Saria started talking. “I want to spend my life with you…” she began. “But not just this life. You know that I’m not sworn to any God, and before, I didn’t really care that much about my soul. But since I met you, I no longer feel this way.”
Saria’s eyes wandered around the washroom, skillfully avoiding Lysandra’s gaze.
“So I was thinking…” she muttered, scratching her cheek. “I don’t feel connected to my Shahrezi roots because of how young I was when I left. I can’t even speak the language,” Saria laughed awkwardly and cast her gaze down.
“And I don’t really feel interested in the other Gods. So I was thinking that, maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to become one of the followers of Astesis…” she faltered.
Lysandra measured her in silence, betraying no particular emotions behind her golden eyes. “Are you sure?”
Saria stole one coy glance, then another. “If-if you’re alright wit—”
Lysandra threw herself at Saria and pulled her in a deep, intense kiss. The passion was so fervent that it made them both lose balance and fall back into the tub.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Saria laughed, wiping the water from her face.
Lysandra kissed her again before finally whispering to her ear. “There isn’t anyone else that I’d rather spend my eternity with.”
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