As they exited the throne room, Ananara continued its monologue of self-praise, rattling off a list of its many imaginary accomplishments. Liria trudged toward her room, exhaustion weighing on her like a lead cloak. Enara followed close behind, snickering at every exasperated look Liria threw at the talking fruit.
"You really should write a book, Liria," Enara teased. "It could be called 'The Adventures of a Pineapple Whisperer.'"
"Not funny," Liria muttered.
Just as they reached the hallway leading to Liria's chambers, a familiar figure darted around the corner.
"Liria!" Milara exclaimed, her soft curls bouncing as she sprinted forward. Before Liria could react, Milara wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace, her warm cheek pressing against Liria's soot-streaked shoulder.
Liria froze, feeling her exhaustion multiply. "Milara," she said, her voice flat, "I just survived a dungeon. Please don't—"
