I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 318: Side - : the babysitting king part 4

Bath time.

Thalor had forgotten how, he couldn’t say that a single word could strike such a peculiar blend of dread and anticipation into the heart of any adult who’d ever cared for a toddler. Kaelith, of course, considered it an invitation to adventure.

The sun was dipping behind the western wing of the castle, golden light pooling through the high nursery windows as Veylira announced, "Bath time!" in the same tone she might have used to summon troops for a siege. Kaelith, still clutching her wooden sword, gave an excited shriek.

Raveth grinned. "You’re on duty, General Veylira. I’ll fetch towels and stand by with first aid in case of flooding."

Thalor, wiping a smear of grass from his cheek, met Veylira’s eyes with a look of gratitude and silent apology. "Good luck," he said.

Veylira gave a regal sniff. "It’s just a bath. What’s the worst that could happen?"

But even as she scooped Kaelith into her arms and marched off to the bathing room, Thalor caught the hint of a smile the glint of a general who knew every campaign was won by wit and persistence, not brute force.

The castle’s nursery bathing room was a cheerful, enchanted space. Pale blue tiles, little painted fish on the walls, and a large oval tub set at a perfect height for a grandmother’s back.

There were floating bath toys, a rubber dragon, a flock of ducks, a plastic phoenix that bobbed and occasionally sang and a shelf lined with soft towels and bottles of soap shaped like clouds.

Veylira rolled up her sleeves and set Kaelith on a little stool, summoning warm water with a flick of her fingers.

Instantly, the tub filled, steam curling invitingly in the air. Kaelith watched, entranced, eyes wide.

"See?" Veylira said, grinning. "Magic makes everything easier."

Kaelith lunged for the tub with a wild giggle, only to be intercepted by Veylira, who, with the reflexes of a much younger woman, held her fast.

"Wait, young dragon. Clothes first." She peeled away mud-streaked socks, tunic, and diaper, all while Kaelith squirmed, wiggled, and kicked her heels in anticipation.

As soon as she was bare, Kaelith let out a triumphant "Yah!" and wriggled free, making a beeline for the water.

SPLASH!

Half the bathwater sloshed onto the floor as Kaelith cannonballed in, surfacing with a delighted squeal and sending a wave crashing over the edge.

Veylira, quick as lightning, conjured a little shield to deflect the worst of it—though a sizable puddle still formed at her feet.

"I should have worn boots," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Kaelith, having tasted victory, decided the real game had begun. She grabbed the rubber dragon, bit its tail, and sent it flying across the room. It bounced off the wall and landed in the laundry basket.

Veylira, unimpressed, scooped up a washcloth and set to work. "Hold still, little one."

Kaelith, naturally, did the opposite. She wriggled like a fish, tried to stand up in the tub, and attempted twice to scale the porcelain edge.

Each time, Veylira caught her, all while humming a lullaby that somehow managed to sound both soothing and faintly threatening.

From the hallway, Thalor could hear the commotion: Kaelith’s shrieks of laughter, the splash of water, and Veylira’s steady commentary. He poked his head in, towel over his arm.

"How’s it going?" he asked, careful not to get too close to the splash zone.

Veylira arched an eyebrow. "Splendidly. She’s invented three new swimming strokes and, I believe, the world’s first aquatic siege maneuver."

Kaelith, sensing an audience, grinned up at Thalor and promptly dunked her head underwater.

She came up sputtering, cheeks flushed, and blew a fountain of water into the air, catching Veylira squarely on the nose.

"Oh, you are your mother’s child," Veylira said, wiping her face and—without missing a beat—soaping Kaelith’s curls with gentle fingers.

Kaelith’s hands darted for the bubbles. She piled them atop her head, shrieked with laughter, and tried to stick a handful onto Veylira’s hair.

Veylira let her, arching one elegant eyebrow as Kaelith sculpted a lopsided crown of foam.

"Your Majesty," Thalor intoned, bowing from the doorway. "I pledge allegiance to the Queen of the Bath."

Kaelith clapped and squealed, delighted with her new title. She seized the plastic phoenix and dunked it, then used it to scoop water out of the tub and pour it onto the floor. By now, a sizable lagoon was forming.

Veylira conjured a mop, guiding it in lazy circles with a flick of her wrist. "You realize," she said to Thalor, "your turn is next."

"Not unless you call for reinforcements," Thalor replied, eyeing the growing flood.

Kaelith had discovered that kicking her feet produced maximum chaos. She lay back and thrashed, sending waves everywhere, splattering the walls, soaking her grandmother, and ensuring her own giggles echoed down the corridor.

Raveth wandered in, took one look at the scene, and snorted. "Should I fetch a boat?"

Kaelith shrieked in agreement: "Boat! Yah!"

Veylira rolled her eyes. "No boats. But perhaps... a diversion." With a flourish, she conjured a handful of little floating boats, each enchanted to sail in slow, lazy circles.

Kaelith’s eyes went wide—then she pounced, splashing more water over the side in her pursuit.

Raveth, ever helpful, tossed in a rubber crab, which Kaelith caught and immediately tried to eat.

"Not for eating!" Veylira scolded, retrieving the crab and replacing it with a squishy sponge shaped like a star

. Kaelith immediately squeezed it, sending a stream of water straight at Thalor’s chest.

He yelped, hopping back, and Raveth howled with laughter.

"Do you ever wonder," Veylira said, resigned, "why we bother with towels?"

Kaelith, thoroughly scrubbed, was now intent on a new goal: escape. She scrambled for the edge, slippery and wily, her grandmother barely keeping her from flopping out onto the tile.

When Veylira wrapped her in a towel at last, Kaelith twisted like a caught eel, shrieking with delight.

"Towel monster!" Raveth declared, flinging another towel over her head.

Kaelith disappeared beneath the heap, wriggling until only her feet stuck out. She made monster noises, then popped out, giggling, and ran half-naked into Thalor’s legs.

"Caught you!" he said, scooping her up. She planted a sloppy, bubble-scented kiss on his nose.

Veylira, towel draped like a sash, surveyed the room. The bathwater was half gone, the rest now pooled artfully around the tiles. Bubbles clung to every surface.

One of the enchanted boats was wedged beneath a cabinet, spinning in small, tragic circles.

But Kaelith was clean. Mostly.

And, for a moment, the world felt bright and whole.

They dried Kaelith—an ordeal involving tickles, more monster noises, and a chase around the nursery. Raveth found a fresh tunic, Veylira tamed her curls with a little magic, and Thalor helped her into soft socks.

When Kaelith was dressed at last, she surveyed her court: three grown adults, soaked, exhausted, but smiling.

"Yah!" she declared, the word now a royal proclamation.

Veylira knelt, smoothing Kaelith’s hair back. "You are a force, little queen. Your mothers will find you in high spirits when they came back."

Kaelith nodded, solemn, and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

They gathered up the towels, set the mop to chase down puddles, and, at last, restored the bathing room to something resembling order. Kaelith was carried off to the parlor, wriggling all the way.

Raveth nudged Thalor. "You survived."

"Barely," he replied, but the fondness in his voice was unmistakable.

They carried Kaelith, wrapped snug in her towel, down the corridor to her nursery.

The setting sun spilled warm light across the floor, painting gold stripes over the soft carpets and the jumble of toys.

Veylira placed Kaelith on the changing table, but the moment she turned to the wardrobe, Kaelith wriggled and sat up, eyes sharp and determined.

"Now, what shall we wear for dinner?" Veylira mused, sorting through the neat stacks of tiny tunics and gowns. "Something blue? Or maybe this crimson set—"

"Yah!" Kaelith interrupted, pointing at a riotously bright set of overalls decorated with tiny dragons and, for some reason, glittering green stars.

Thalor chuckled. "Her taste is as bold as her magic."

Raveth, rummaging in a drawer, produced a pair of socks with mismatched stripes. "What about these? Fashionable and functional."

Kaelith’s gaze was unwavering. She wanted the dragon overalls and nothing else.

When Veylira held up a soft lavender dress, Kaelith shook her head so vigorously her curls bounced. "No!"

"Stubborn as her mothers," Veylira muttered, but there was amusement in her voice.

In the end, the matter was settled by Kaelith herself.

She reached out, seized the overalls, and, with impressive accuracy for a child not yet a year old, tried to tug them over her head, giggling wildly as she got stuck with her arms flailing in midair. freewebnσvel.cøm

Veylira rescued her, slipping the overalls on properly, and let Kaelith pick out the socks—one yellow, one blue.

Raveth solemnly declared her "the best-dressed in the castle." Kaelith crowed her victory, stomping her feet in approval and doing a wobbly little spin.

Thalor, watching this tiny force of will, felt his heart melt. Picking clothes, like everything with Kaelith, was an adventure: messy, unpredictable, and brimming with laughter.

As they buttoned up her chosen outfit and Raveth straightened her dragon patch, Kaelith beamed up at them—utterly herself, bold and bright and absolutely uncontainable.

"Well," Thalor said, smoothing her wild hair, "ready for dinner, Your Majesty?"