Official gift

Coming back to the southern palace after a fight was strange—the shift from adrenaline-soaked chaos to perfumed halls, silk carpets, and the quiet, humming tension of royalty.

I still had mud on my boots and a streak of pirate blood on my shirt as I followed one of the palace guards to the queens' private office.

The place was all bright sunlight and gold-framed maps, with two desks stacked high with reports and ledgers.

Queen Thalia looked up first, her expression warm with pride and relief. Queen Marena, in crisp blue, eyed the dirt under my nails with the wry smile of someone who'd spent too many years at war to care about appearances.

"Welcome back, Lyra," Thalia said, rising and moving to pour me a cup of tea before I could protest. "We heard the raid was a success."

I set my sword carefully by the door and gave a quick bow, still buzzing with leftover energy from the fight.

"Yes, Your Majesties. We found the pirates' cove. About thirty of them, most surrendered after a little demonstration." I shrugged. "They weren't much for organized resistance."

Marena raised an eyebrow. "And the villagers?"

"All three are safe," I reported, letting my shoulders relax for the first time since dawn.

"Shaken, but unharmed. They're resting with your healers now. We brought back five pirates alive—your guards have them in the cells for questioning."

Thalia handed me the tea, fingers lingering on mine just long enough for the gesture to feel oddly maternal. "You did well, Lyra. The southern isles owe you a great deal."

I tried not to preen, but something in her smile made me stand straighter. "Just doing my job, Your Majesty."

Marena gave a sly, sidelong glance at her wife, then at me. "Tomorrow begins the annual festival for the villagers. Food, music, a parade, some old rituals. It's one of the few times every year when the whole castle lets its hair down."

My brows shot up. "That sounds… lively." And, frankly, like a royal headache.

Thalia laughed. "It's tradition for visiting royalty to attend, if they wish. We thought you might bring Princess Isolde along. It could do her good to see the people—and for the people to see her. Perhaps soften her reputation a bit."

I nearly choked on the tea. "Me? Bring the Ice Queen to a festival? She'll freeze the wine before anyone gets a taste."

Marena smirked. "We have fire mages on standby, just in case. Besides, rumor has it that beneath the frost, she's not so cold."

I had to fight the smile that wanted to creep up at the corners of my mouth. "Well, I'll… ask her. No promises she won't duel the fiddler or lecture the villagers on etiquette."

Thalia leaned forward, eyes dancing with mischief. "Oh, and Lyra—before you go. One more thing."

She rummaged through a drawer, then placed a small, ornate box on the edge of the desk and slid it across to me.

"For you," she said, tone perfectly innocent. "Just in case you and the princess find yourselves… in need during the festivities."

I stared at the box. It was carved wood, inlaid with little silver vines, clearly made for something expensive—probably jewelry, or a precious potion. Instead, when I cracked the lid, I found a neat stack of—gods help me—condoms, each in shiny red and gold wrappers.

I blinked. My ears went hot. "Um… I… thank you?"

Marena looked like she was about to explode with laughter. "You never know, Lyra. The festival is notorious for its… unexpected outcomes. We wouldn't want the princess's bodyguard to be unprepared."

My mouth flapped, soundless. Of all the things I expected gratitude, another mission, maybe even a medal—this was not it.

Thalia patted my arm with perfect gravity. "Consider it an official gift from the southern crown. We support all diplomatic relations in our territory. Especially the… intimate ones."

"I—" I had to laugh, half in shock, half in embarrassment. "I'll, uh, keep them handy. For diplomatic emergencies."

Marena finally lost it, laughing so hard she had to lean on the desk. "Gods, I wish I could see your face when you explain this to Isolde."

"Not happening," I muttered, stuffing the box in my bag like it was a live grenade. "If she finds these, she'll murder me. Or you. Or both."

Thalia only winked. "If you'd rather, you can leave them here for your return. Or give them to the fiddler—he's always in need."

"No, no, I'm good," I said, backing toward the door, heart hammering, ears burning. "Thank you, Your Majesties. For the tea. And the…other thing."

Marena waved, still chuckling. "Enjoy the festival, Lyra. And don't let the princess drink too much honey wine."

I escaped before they could add anything worse, clutching my bag like it might bite. Gods above. Pirate fights were easier than this.

In the corridor, I stopped to breathe, leaning against the cool stone. The box of condoms felt like it weighed a ton, burning a hole in my satchel.

Was I supposed to hand it to Isolde and announce, "Royal supplies, for your pleasure?" The thought alone made me want to crawl under a table and never come out.

And yet—some small, wild part of me wasn't just mortified. It was… hopeful. If the queens saw something between me and Isolde, maybe it wasn't all in my head.

Maybe that heat from last night, the way her body fit against mine, the look she'd given me this morning—maybe it all meant something.

I shook myself. One thing at a time. First, survive the festival. Second, keep the condoms away from Isolde's prying eyes. Third… try not to die of embarrassment.

I found myself grinning, shaking my head, as I made my way toward our rooms. For once, pirate blades seemed preferable to royal matchmaking.

But somewhere, deep down, the idea of a night beneath lanterns, music and wine, Isolde by my side—it didn't sound like such a bad fate.

Not if I got to see the ice queen thaw.

And if I had a box of royal-approved insurance? Well… stranger things had happened.