At last... she was here.
Yamin stepped through the tall doors, the light behind her stretching her shadow across the floor. Her eyes locked with Mela's, who stood near the hall's end, stiff like she'd been waiting too long.
"Finally," Yamin said, a quiet sigh slipping from her lips. Her voice carried the calm of someone who'd been through much, yet still stood tall. "You came."
Mela only nodded. No words, just that small gesture. But her eyes gave her away — something was weighing heavy on her.
Elsie and Skyler had already gone, heading home with hope tucked in their hearts like fragile glass. They were waiting for answers… waiting for her.
Without another glance, Yamin turned. Her hand brushed over her braids, letting them fall neatly across her shoulder.
"Prepare a bath for me," she said. Not demanding — just the usual tone of someone who was used to being heard. "And I'll need a massage too."
---
The bath was warm, calm, and quiet. No words, no movement — just the soft swirl of water and the scent of mirin and blossom-root. The oils eased into her skin, soaking away the tension. Her hair was washed gently, combed smooth until it fell like silk down her back.
When she stepped out, she was wrapped in an emerald robe that shimmered with gold around the collar and sleeves. Her face calm, her mind focused.
It was time to see Jasmine.
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In one of the palace's sunlit rooms, filled with cushions and the smell of incense, Jasmine looked up with a grin the moment Yamin walked in.
l
"Well, look who finally showed up. Been a while, girlie."
Yamin rolled her eyes. "I never liked that name."
"Oh, yes you do," Jasmine teased, smirking as she stretched out on a cushion.
"Never did," Yamin replied, but a small smile tugged at her lips.
"I only liked it. Especially when Dad used to say it — 'Buckle up Girlie, be strong, stay sharp.'" Yamin's s tone softened a bit at the memory.
Then she stood and wrapped her arms around Yamin. It was the kind of hug that said everything their words didn't — warm, quiet, real. She patted Yamin's back gently, just like she used to when they were kids.
Every time their father came up, Yamin's chest tightened. She never said much, but Jasmine always knew. That weight still lingered.
"What's the matter?" Jasmine asked, handing her a shiny red apple.
Yamin bit into it. "Mmm. This is sweet. Where'd you find these?"
"Outside the palace. Near Kohuri Spring. There's an orchard there," Jasmine replied casually.
Yamin tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "He brought them, didn't he? Muller?"
Jasmine gave her a look and laughed. "You naughty little—
"I knew it," Yamin chuckled as she dodged the cushion Jasmine playfully threw at her.
She wandered to the bed and dropped onto it like she owned the place. Jasmine raised a brow.
"I know that face. You want something."
"What? Me? No..."
"Stop it. I know you too well. Just say it."
Yamin grinned. "Okay. Fine. I do want something. I need a favor."
Jasmine's smile faded just a little, her eyes settling into something softer.
"What is it?"
It's about the guy… Tony."
Yamin's voice was calm, but Jasmine could tell there was something beneath it—something serious.
Jasmine leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing slightly. "We're still investigating. He might come out innocent… but for now, he's got to remain in the cells. At least until he's cleared."
"How long will that take?" Yamin asked, her gaze steady.
"I don't know," Jasmine admitted, reaching lazily for a fruit in the bowl beside her. "Could be days. Weeks. It depends." She peeled the skin slowly, clearly buying time as her thoughts swirled. "Why are you asking about him?"
Yamin hesitated, then leaned forward. "You really care about Dad, right?"
Jasmine stopped peeling. She looked up. "Of course I do."
"Then listen," Yamin said, her voice firmer now. "I believe Tony can help us. What happened to him… it's strangely similar to what happened to Dad. I think—no, I believe—Tony has time-traveled. And he might be the key to bringing Dad back to us."
Jasmine stared. "You're kidding."
"I'm not."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I know how it sounds," Yamin said quickly. "But everything points to it. What if he really can bring him back?"
"So you're saying we should release him?" Jasmine asked flatly, suspicion creeping into her voice. "Just like that?"
"Yes," Yamin replied without blinking. "We should try. There's no harm."
"There could be harm," Jasmine argued. "What if it's all a trick? What if he's playing us?"
"There won't be any harm," Yamin said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "I promise. I'll take full responsibility."
The room fell quiet. Even the soft rustle of leaves outside the palace walls seemed to hush.
"Will you do this for me?" Yamin asked at last, her voice low, her eyes holding Jasmine's. "Please."
Jasmine looked at her sister for a long moment. Something flickered in her eyes—curiosity, hesitation… then something else.
"You've caught feelings for him, haven't you?" Jasmine said suddenly. "I saw the way you looked at him in the judgment hall. Like he was someone you already knew."
"What? No!" Yamin sat up, flustered. "I don't like him. It just… looks that way."
"Mmhmm." Jasmine grinned knowingly.
"I swear," Yamin said. "After he helps me find Dad, that's it."
"Sure. I just know," Jasmine said with a laugh. "You'll end up falling for him. Watch."