Then she smiled—warm, gentle, and just a little mischievous.
“Then let this be our secret,” she whispered. “Just for today.”
The twins exchanged uncertain glances.
A secret.
That single word felt dangerous. Exciting.
Amara reached into the laundry basket and pulled out a clean white sheet. Then another. She dragged two small chairs together and draped the sheet over them, tucking the edges just right.
Sunlight filtered through the fabric, glowing soft and golden.
“There,” she whispered. “Welcome to your royal castle.”
Eli’s mouth fell open.
Lena stepped closer, eyes wide. “A real one?”
“The realest kind,” Amara said. “You’re the princes. I’m the guardian. I protect you with magic.”
“Do you really have magic?” Lena asked.
Amara leaned in and gently tapped her finger to Lena’s forehead. “Only if you believe.”
For a heartbeat, the mansion seemed to breathe.
Then laughter burst out—hesitant at first, fragile, like a sound unused. Then louder. Freer.
The twins crawled into the tent, giggling, whispering secrets, pretending to fight dragons and crown themselves royalty. Their laughter echoed down marble halls that had never truly known it.
