In the few months since the death of Lady Marcelline, Paola has been staying at Poca's homestead. The rain poured down in heavy, relentless sheets, drenching the earth and turning the ground into a muddy quagmire. Yet, even in this deluge, Paola remained on her knees, her slender form exposed to the elements. Her cloak had been left inside Poca's home, leaving her completely naked, her dark brown hair plastered to her back and shoulders, slick with rainwater. Droplets ran down her skin in rivulets, tracing the curve of her spine and pooling in the hollow of her lower back before dripping into the mud. Her large, dark brown cat ears twitched with each cold splash of water, while her tail flicked back and forth, agitated but determined.

  Beside her, Poca knelt in the mud, her light blue skin glistening under the relentless downpour. The stitches that crisscrossed her body seemed to glow faintly, a testament to her inhuman resilience. She was as naked as Paola, her wavy, navy-blue-black hair clinging to her shoulders, her mismatched green and purple eyes focused intently on the task at hand. Poca’s delicate fingers, usually so adept at weaving intricate puppet strings, were now covered in mud as she gently transplanted seedlings into newly dug rows.

  Paola’s fingers dug into the earth, pushing through the wet, heavy soil to make space for the fragile roots. The garden, which had once been an oasis of green, was now struggling under the weight of the ceaseless rain. Water pooled in the furrows they had dug, threatening to drown the plants if they didn’t act quickly. She could feel the strain in her muscles, her back aching from hours of work, but she pushed through. This was necessary. They needed to save what they could.

  A few feet away, Ayla was working to dig new trenches, redirecting the pooling water away from the delicate rows of vegetables they had planted. The overalls she wore were far too large, the fabric hanging loosely from her lithe frame and exposing glimpses of her skin every time she bent over. The straps slid down her shoulders, revealing the swell of her breasts, glistening in the rain. Her twin blonde braids clung to her neck, heavy with water, while her mismatched red and blue eyes remained focused on her task.

  Paola couldn’t help but steal glances at Ayla’s exposed skin, the way her muscles rippled beneath the damp fabric as she worked. The sight sent a flutter through her chest, but she quickly turned her attention back to her own task, her hands covered in mud as she continued to press seeds into the soaked earth.

  Selene, ever the stoic presence, was working on flowers beds off to the side, her ash-gray skin shimmering under the rain. Her silver-white hair was tied back in a braid, the shaved side of her head exposed and dripping with water. She wore dark leather pants and a cropped top that left her midriff bare, revealing the swirling tattoos that marked her skin. Her mithralite fist gleamed dully in the gray light as she used it to break up clumps of earth, making the soil easier to work with. Despite the cold rain, her expression was focused and intense, her purple marbled eyes scanning the ground for areas where water was pooling.

  Poca looked over at Paola, her lips curving into a soft, mischievous smile despite the harsh weather. “Mon amour,” she called over the sound of the rain, “we are making a mess of ourselves, non?” Her voice was a playful tease, a spark of light in the dreary day.

  Paola couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that seemed to brighten the stormy air. “If this keeps up,” she replied, “we might have to start planting rice instead.”

  Poca chuckled, her stitches stretching slightly as her grin widened. She leaned over, her bare shoulder brushing against Paola’s arm as she helped to move another batch of seedlings. The closeness sent a shiver through Paola that had nothing to do with the cold rain.

  Ayla paused in her digging to glance over at them, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “You two are going to catch a cold, you know,” she teased, her voice light despite the exhaustion in her eyes.

  “Ha! With the way Poca and I are working, we’ll stay plenty warm,” Paola shot back with a wink, causing Ayla to shake her head in amusement. "Not like you're off any better." Though Paola knew Ayla's fire affinity would probably keep her warm in a blizzard.

  Selene, who had been quietly working to reinforce the edges of the garden beds, finally spoke up, her voice a dry drawl. “If you two are done flirting, we still have about half an acre of flooded rows to fix before nightfall.”

  Paola stuck her tongue out at Selene, but there was no heat behind it. “Fine, fine. We’ll keep our... ‘distractions’ to a minimum,” she conceded, her cheeks flushing slightly.

  The rain continued to fall, each drop like a tiny crystal exploding on their skin. The world around them was a palette of deep greens and rich browns, the air filled with the scent of wet earth and blooming flowers that had stubbornly survived the deluge. The once sandy-grassy soil had transformed into a thick, mud-laden mire, but still, life persisted. The plants seemed to glow under the gray sky, their vibrant colors a defiance against the unending rain.

  Paola’s mind wandered briefly as she pressed another seed into the earth. She thought back to who she used to be on Earth, sitting in a darkened room, staring at screens until the early hours of the morning. That life felt like it belonged to someone else now, a distant dream that had been washed away with the rain. Here, in Udanara, surrounded by the women she loved, she had found something far more meaningful than the life she left behind.

  Poca leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to Paola’s shoulder. “You are lost in thought again, ma chérie,” she murmured, her breath warm against Paola’s rain-chilled skin.

  Paola smiled softly, her eyes closing briefly as she savored the touch. “Just thinking about how different things are now,” she admitted. “And how much I... love this. Even when it’s hard.”

  Poca’s mismatched eyes softened, and she reached up to gently cup Paola’s cheek, her touch tender. “You are strong, Paola,” she whispered. “You have a heart zat refuses to break, no matter how much it is tested.”

  Before Paola could respond, Ayla’s voice cut through the rain. “Hey, lovebirds! I could use some help over here before we all drown!”

  Paola laughed, the sound light and free, and together, she and Poca hurried to help Ayla reinforce the trenches. Selene joined them, her mithralite fist driving stakes into the ground to redirect the water flow.

  The four of them worked in harmony, each movement a testament to the bond they shared. Even as the rain continued to fall, there was warmth between them, a sense of unity that nothing could wash away

  Peace never lasts long though as the sound of boots squelching through the mud caught their attention. Paola’s ears twitched, her head snapping toward the entrance of the farm. Through the curtain of rain, a familiar figure came into view, her bright red hair now a dark, drenched mass hanging limply around her face.

  Yasmin stomped her way into the garden, her wings drooping, their usually vibrant orange and yellow hues muted by the rain. Her fiery spirit seemed to have been doused by the relentless downpour and weeks of backbreaking labor. The shorts and enchanted leather top she wore clung to her lithe frame, the magical patterns on her clothes barely flickering under the heavy rainfall.

  “Finally back, Yasmin?” Paola called out with a grin, her golden-flecked brown eyes sparkling despite the gloomy weather.

  Yasmin groaned dramatically, not even bothering to acknowledge the teasing tone in Paola’s voice. “I swear, if I have to repair one more ancient, crumbling cathedral wall, I’m going to lose it!” she complained, her voice thick with exhaustion. “The rain won’t stop, and the mud... the mud is everywhere! Even my wings are caked in it!”

  She stumbled forward, throwing herself into Paola’s arms, her taller frame folding over Paola’s smaller one. Despite being drenched, Yasmin pressed her face into the crook of Paola’s neck, her breath coming in tired huffs. Paola’s heart softened as she wrapped her arms around the magist, feeling the warmth of her lover’s body against her own cool, rain-soaked skin.

  “Aww, poor little angel,” Paola cooed, her voice dripping with faux sympathy as she stroked Yasmin’s wet hair. “How dare they make someone as delicate and reckless as you clean up your own mess? Truly an injustice.”

  Yasmin pulled back just enough to pout up at Paola, her amber eyes glowing faintly despite the exhaustion etched into her features. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?” she accused, though the hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

  “Me? Mocking you? Never,” Paola replied with a grin, standing on her tiptoes to reach Yasmin’s lips for a quick, teasing kiss. “I’m just saying that maybe you should think twice next time before turning half a cathedral to rubble with those explosive spells of yours.”

  Yasmin groaned again, but this time there was a note of playful acceptance in her tone. “I didn’t mean to blow that wall up... completely. It was supposed to be a controlled burst!”

  Selene, who had been taken the time to stand along everyone else with her mithralite fist resting on her hip, let out a low chuckle. “You and ‘controlled’ don’t exactly go together, Yasmin,” she remarked, her voice laced with dry amusement.

  “Hey, not all of us are cool and composed like you, Selene,” Yasmin shot back, sticking her tongue out at the demoness. But there was no malice behind her words, only the camaraderie that had grown between them over the past few months.

  Poca, who had finished planting the last of her seeds stood with a smirk playing at her stitched lips, chimed in with a playful nod. “Oh, I ‘ave to agree wiz Selene on zis one, Yasmin. Control and you... zey are like oil and water, non?”

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  Yasmin shot Poca a mock glare, her fiery wings fluttering behind her in annoyance. “Oh great, now you’re teaming up on me too? What happened to having my back, Poca?”

  Poca tilted her head, her mismatched green and purple eyes twinkling with mischief. “Ah, ma chère Yasmin, I ‘ave your back...” She gave a little shrug, the rain glistening off her blue-tinted skin. “I am also ‘ere to keep you on your toes. Besides, zis garden doesn’t need any more ‘explosive bursts,’ oui?”

  Yasmin crossed her arms, pretending to sulk, but Paola could see the corners of her lips twitching, trying to suppress a smile. “Fine, fine,” she grumbled, casting a sidelong glance at Paola. “Guess everyone’s ganging up on poor little me.”

  Paola stepped back slightly, her eyes flicking between Yasmin and Poca. She couldn’t help but notice how the two of them exchanged looks—playful, curious, lingering. There was a time when Yasmin would blush furiously at the mere sight of Poca’s naked form, and Poca would tease her mercilessly for it. But now, there was a comfort between them, an ease that hinted at something deeper brewing beneath the surface.

  As Yasmin’s eyes caught Paola’s, a mischievous glint sparking to life once more. “And where’s my reward for all this hard work, huh?” she asked, her voice dropping to a playful whisper as she leaned in closer.

  Paola laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly as she reached up to cup Yasmin’s cheek. “Oh, is that what you came here for?” she teased, her voice soft and sultry. “A reward for being such a good little angel? Having to clean the messes she made?”

  Yasmin’s eyes darkened with anticipation, her fiery spirit reignited. “Maybe,” she murmured, her lips hovering just a breath away from Paola’s.

  Paola’s grin widened, and without another word, she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to Yasmin’s in a soft yet passionate kiss. Yasmin let out a small, contented sigh as she leaned into it, her hands finding their way to Paola’s waist. The rain continued to fall around them, cool droplets mixing with the heat of their embrace.

  As the kiss deepened, Paola’s tail coiled playfully around Yasmin’s thigh, drawing a soft, surprised gasp from her. Paola couldn’t help but smile against Yasmin’s lips, savoring the closeness and the way Yasmin seemed to melt under her touch. It was a sweet reunion after the week spent apart, and the longing between them was obvious.

  When they finally pulled away, their foreheads resting together, Paola whispered, “Missed you, firefly.”

  Yasmin’s cheeks flushed, but she managed a grin. “Missed you too, troublemaker.”

  When they finally pulled away, Selene let out a mock sigh. “Are we going to keep making out in the rain, or are we going to finish planting these damn seeds?” she called out, her tone half-joking, half-serious.

  Paola laughed, pressing one last kiss to Yasmin’s lips before turning back to the garden. “Alright, alright, back to work,” she called out, her voice filled with joy. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can all head inside and... reward ourselves properly.”

  Yasmin winked at Paola before moving to help Poca with replanting the seedlings. The sight of the two of them working together, laughing and exchanging teasing remarks, warmed Paola’s heart. It was amazing to see how far they had all come since the chaos with Lady Marcelline’s death. The bonds between them had deepened, not just with Paola but with each other as well.

  Paola couldn’t help but smile as she watched her lovers—her family—working together in the rain. For once, the future felt hopeful, even as the rain continued to fall.

  Before Paola, Poca, Yasmin, Ayla, and Selene could truly return to their garden work, the sound of approaching hooves squelching through the mud reached their ears. Paola’s ears twitched, and she turned just in time to see a well-dressed servant struggling to dismount from his horse, nearly slipping in the mud.

  Poca let out an exasperated groan, her hands on her hips. “Oh non, not again,” she muttered under her breath.

  The servant was dressed in immaculate robes of deep blue trimmed with gold, clearly a representative of the Duchess. Despite the rain and the less-than-ideal conditions, he managed to approach with the air of someone stepping onto a pristine ballroom floor.

  “Madame Poca,” he began with a flourish, bowing slightly but carefully keeping his boots out of the deeper puddles. “The Duchess sends her warmest regards and her most heartfelt gratitude for your miraculous healing. She hopes to persuade you to—”

  “No,” Poca interrupted, her tone polite yet firm. “Zis is ze... what, third time zis month? I have said no each time. Zank the Duchess for her generosity, but my answer remains ze same.”

  The servant didn’t miss a beat, as if he had been expecting her resistance. He straightened his back and gave her a dazzling smile. “Ah, but Madame, you must understand. The Duchess is insistent. She believes a woman of your talents deserves better than... well,” he glanced around at the muddy homestead, “this.” The women had started to gather at the porch, taking a short break from the rain and mud. The servant gestured toward the house and its patchwork wooden planks and mismatched stones.

  Poca’s eyes narrowed, her mismatched gaze of green and purple burning with irritation. “Zis?” She gestured around her with a sweeping motion. “This is my home, monsieur. And I am quite content where I am, merci beaucoup.”

  Selene, sitting on a crate nearby with her arms crossed, snorted with laughter. “I’d take muddy fields over being a glorified handmaid to a duchess any day,” she muttered under her breath, earning a grin from Paola.

  The servant, not to be deterred, tried a different approach. “Surely, Madame Poca, you must consider the benefits. A comfortable room in the Duchess’s manor, access to the finest ingredients for your potions, and—”

  “Ah, oui, oui,” Poca cut him off, waving a hand dismissively. “All zat luxury sounds so... appealing. But alas, I have all ze ingredients I need right ‘ere.” She picked up a handful of muddy soil and let it drip through her fingers. “And more importantly, I have my freedom.”

  The servant’s smile tightened, but he bowed his head gracefully. “As you wish, Madame. I shall inform the Duchess of your continued refusal, though I daresay she will not give up so easily.”

  “Of course, she won’t,” Yasmin interjected with a laugh, wiping her damp hands on her shorts. “Persistent, isn’t she? But don’t worry, Poca—we’ll keep you hidden here if she sends another servant.”

  The servant gave Yasmin a stiff, polite smile before turning to Poca once more. “I wish you the best of days, Madame Poca. And know that the Duchess’s door is always open, should you change your mind.”

  Poca just waved him off, turning back to the porch as the servant finally retreated, slipping and stumbling back to his horse. “Bonne chance to you too, monsieur,” she called after him with a wink, watching him struggle in the mud.

  As the servant finally rode away, Yasmin let out a theatrical sigh. “Honestly, Poca, you must have made quite an impression on the Duchess. Maybe she’s secretly in love with you,” she teased.

  Poca rolled her eyes but grinned. “If she zinks she can charm me with fancy titles and gilded rooms, she’s more delusional zan I thought.”

  As they laughed together, Yasmin’s expression suddenly turned more serious. “Oh, that reminds me,” she said, reaching into her enchanted leather pouch. “I got a message from Yucca this morning.”

  “Yucca?” Paola asked, tilting her head in curiosity. “What’s she up to?”

  Yasmin unfolded the small, enchanted scroll. “Looks like she’s being summoned back to Windmere for a new mission. And...” Yasmin hesitated, glancing up at Paola, “she asked if I could join her.”

  Paola’s expression softened. “Of course,” she said, nodding. “Family is family, Yasmin. I know you two have a lot to catch up on.”

  Yasmin gave a small, grateful smile. “Yeah... we’ve been apart for too long. But,” she added with a sly grin, “I was thinking, why don’t you come with me, Paola? You’ve been talking about wanting to visit Windmere again.”

  Paola’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Mind? Please,” Yasmin waved a dismissive hand. “I could use the company. Besides,” she added, her voice dropping to a playful whisper, “I’ve been dying to show you the best tavern in town. They have the most delicious honey mead.”

  Selene, who had been listening quietly, let out a chuckle. “You sure you’re not just using this mission as an excuse to drink and show off your girlfriend, Yasmin?”

  Yasmin’s wings fluttered slightly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Maybe,” she admitted with a wink. “But it’s not like I’m complaining.”

  Poca leaned in closer to Paola, whispering with a conspiratorial tone. “I zink Yasmin just wants an excuse to parade you around in Windmere, ma chérie.”

  Paola’s laughter echoed around the rain-soaked homestead, and she grinned widely. “Well, I guess I better start packing for Windmere, then. But hey,” she turned to Ayla, Poca, and Selene, “what about you three? How do you all feel about a little adventure?”

  Before any of them could answer, Yasmin’s eyes sparkled mischievously, and she cut in with her usual flair for the dramatic. “Actually... there’s more to it than just Windmere,” she said, raising her finger as if she was about to unveil a grand secret.

  Ayla tilted her head, curious. “What do you mean, Yasmin?”

  Yasmin leaned back against the porch railing, crossing her arms and looking all too pleased with herself. “Well, you see, it turns out Yucca and I might be headed somewhere a bit more... intense. I wasn’t going to bring it up until later, but since we’re all here...” She took a deep breath, her wings flickering behind her. “The mission might involve a little detour to Helios.”

  “Helios?” Poca’s eyes widened, “Zat’s... quite far, no?”

  Yasmin nodded, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “Apparently, there’s some serious trouble brewing over there. Something about the Queen being overthrown, chaos in the capital, the whole nine yards. They’re bringing in third-party investigators to avoid any bias, and guess what? They’re paying top dollar to have foreign agents handle it. And who better than the famous Ivetta sisters?” She winked.

  Paola blinked in shock, her golden-flecked eyes wide. “Wait... you’re saying there’s a whole political coup happening, and you’re thinking of dragging us into it?”

  Yasmin shrugged nonchalantly, brushing a few wet strands of her fiery hair from her face. “I mean, think of the pay! And besides, it could be fun, right? New city, new people to charm, new asses to kick.”

  Ayla crossed her arms, her expression somewhere between incredulity and amusement. “Are you even supposed to be telling us all this?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Yasmin waved a dismissive hand. “Probably not,” she admitted, her tone casual as if she’d just shared the latest gossip and not classified information. “But hey, you’re all family, right? If we’re gonna do this, I figured you’d want to know what you’re getting into.”

  Selene, who had been quietly listening with her usual smirk, finally spoke up. “So let me get this straight,” she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re asking if we want to abandon our peaceful farm life to get involved in some high-stakes coup with you and your sister?”

  Yasmin nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! Doesn’t it sound exciting?”

  Paola rubbed her temples, trying not to groan, though her tone wasn't harsh. “Yasmin, you know we just finished dealing with Lady Marcelline’s fallout. Now you’re trying to throw us into another mess?”

  Yasmin grinned wider, leaning in close to Paola, her amber eyes glinting. “Oh, come on, Paola. You know you love it. Besides, think of the adventure! And we’ll be together, all of us.” She fluttered her wings dramatically, sending droplets flying. “How can you say no to that?”

  Poca, ever the voice of dry humor, shook her head. “You are... how do you say... insane, ma chère Yasmin.”

  Ayla chuckled, nudging Paola with her elbow. “This girl, I swear. She doesn’t give up, does she?"

  Paola sighed, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “I guess we have some things to discuss,” she said, glancing around at her girlfriends who all were looking at Yasmin with a mix of exasperation and amusement. It was cute, and it reminded her why she loved them all.

  "I guess you could say that," Ayla said, leaning in to give Paola a soft kiss. "So, what do you say, troublemaker?"

  Paola paused for a moment, taking in the sight of her lovers around her, the smell of rain and flowers in the air. There were a thousand reasons not to go, a thousand reasons to stay. But as she looked at them, her heart swelled, and the words left her lips almost without thinking.

  "When do we leave?"