Crimson Rebirth ( GL)

The steaming water pounded against my shoulders, the heat soothing muscles that felt like they'd been through a grinder.

My head rested against the slick tiles of the shower, and I let out a long, drawn-out sigh. I'd made one mistake after another today, and honestly, I was starting to feel the effects of my own stupidity.

Sending out 100 fire clones had seemed like a good idea at the time. Spread them across the kingdom, gather information faster. Efficient, right? Wrong.

What genius what absolute mastermind,had decided to overextend their magical reserves just days before embarking on a trip where they'd be surrounded by nobility, drama, and Calira? Oh, right. Me.

I could feel my magic waning. My clones were supposed to be precise extensions of my will, but lately, some of them had been acting… independent. Not outright rebellious, but slow to respond, or occasionally going off-task.

One had even sent me a note in blocky, barely legible handwriting that simply read, "Stop overworking me."

How does a magical construct even develop a personality?

Now, as the water pooled at my feet, I debated which clone to recall. The one trailing suspicious figures near the southern border? Or the one stationed at the palace archives trying to decipher that weird symbol from the masked attackers?

My vision swam for a moment, and I cursed under my breath. Definitely the archive clone. Research could wait if it meant I didn't collapse mid-step tomorrow.

With a flick of my fingers, I dismissed the clone, feeling a small but welcome surge of energy return to me.

"Better," I muttered to myself, twisting the water off and stepping out of the shower.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I made my way to the bed, fully intending to throw on some clothes and pass out for a few blissful hours.

But of course, peace wasn't in the cards.

"Comfortable?" I asked dryly, halting mid-step when I saw Lucindra lounging on my bed like she owned the place.

Her dark hair was perfectly styled, her dress impeccable. She looked every bit the noblewoman who hadn't a care in the world.

"Extremely," she replied, her smirk as infuriating as ever. "You have a nice room. Shame about the occupant, though."

I groaned, running a hand through my damp hair. "What are you doing here, Lucindra?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, relax. It's not like I haven't seen you naked before."

I choked on air, my face heating. "That was years ago!"

"And yet, here we are again."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I don't have the energy for this."

Lucindra leaned back, her smirk deepening. "You're cute when you're flustered, you know."

"I'm not flustered," I shot back, grabbing a shirt from my bag.

"Right," she said, clearly unconvinced. "So, tell me—how does someone like you end up being the princess's bodyguard? Did they run out of options?"

I snorted. "Something like that."

"And are you… interested in her?" Lucindra asked, her tone light but her eyes sharp.

The question threw me. "What?"

"Xyra," she said, shrugging. "You're always with her. I'm just curious if it's professional or… something else."

"It's professional," I said quickly, pulling on my shirt.

Lucindra raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Hmm. I wonder if she feels the same way."

"She does," I said firmly, though I wasn't entirely sure. Xyra's behavior was a puzzle I hadn't managed to solve.

Lucindra stood, her expression softening. "You're terrible at lying, you know that?"

I sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Look, about before… I'm sorry. For leaving without saying anything."

She tilted her head, her smirk fading into something gentler. "You really were a piece of work back then."

"I know," I admitted, meeting her gaze.

Before I could say anything else, Lucindra lunged, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and pushing me back onto the bed.

"Lucindra, what are you—"

The door slammed open.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

Calira's voice was a thunderclap, her presence like a storm rolling into the room.

I froze, my heart sinking as she took in the scene—Lucindra sprawled on top of me, my shirt only half-buttoned, and an unmistakable look of panic on my face.

"Mother," Lucindra began, her tone light and utterly unbothered.

"Lucindra, move," Calira snapped, her glare fixed on me.

Lucindra sighed dramatically but rolled off me, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

Calira, meanwhile, stalked toward me, her eyes blazing. "You. What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" I said quickly, raising my hands in surrender.

"Nothing?" she repeated, her voice dangerously low. "You've been here less than a day, and already you're causing trouble."

"It wasn't—"

Her hands shot out, wrapping around my neck—not enough to hurt, but enough to make her point.

"You think you can waltz into my estate, flirt with my daughter, and—"

"Mother!" Lucindra interrupted, her tone exasperated. "I jumped on her, not the other way around."

Calira ignored her, her grip tightening slightly. "Do you enjoy making my life difficult, Ren?"

"Not intentionally," I managed to choke out.

"You're lucky I don't throw you out right now," she hissed, finally letting go.

I coughed, rubbing my neck. "You'd miss me if I left."

Her glare could've melted steel.

"I swear, you're more trouble than you're worth," she muttered before spinning on her heel and storming out of the room.

Lucindra watched her go, then turned back to me with a grin.

"Well," she said, "that went better than expected."

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. This trip was going to kill me.