The world had fractured. One moment, there was the searing heat of dragon's fire and the cacophony of a battle that would decide the fate of a kingdom; the next, there was only a blinding, silent whiteness that consumed everything. When sensation returned, it was not to the scent of ozone and blood, but to the gentle lapping of water and the perfume of unknown, exotic blossoms. Priscilla Barielle, the glorious Sun Princess herself, awoke not on a throne or a command dais, but on a bed of impossibly soft, white sand, the sun that was her namesake kissing her skin with an unfamiliar tenderness. Her ornate, crimson dress was torn and soaked, a mockery of her station. This was an indignity of the highest order.

A groan nearby drew her attention. Sprawled a few yards away, half-in and half-out of the turquoise water, was a creature of sun-scorched skin and wild, dark hair braided into a scorpion's tail. Shaula. The guardian of a forgotten tower, a being of manic energy and singular, maddening devotion. Priscilla's lip curled in distaste. Of all the beings in existence to be stranded with, fate had cursed her with this boisterous, unrefined beast. She pushed herself to her feet, her regal posture unwavering despite the circumstances. The horizon stretched in every direction, an unbroken line of blue meeting blue. They were on an island, a speck of emerald and pearl in a vast, empty ocean. There was no sign of Lugunica, no trace of the world she knew. This was, in every infuriating sense of the phrase, a Kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu—a life starting from zero.

Shaula stirred, sputtering out a mouthful of saltwater. Her dark eyes, usually alight with a frantic, star-struck gleam, were clouded with confusion. "Master? Master! Where are you?" she cried, her voice raw. She scrambled up, her movements agile and predatory, her gaze sweeping the beach. When her eyes fell on Priscilla, they narrowed. "You! Fancy-pants lady! Where's my Master? What did you do?"

Priscilla merely arched a perfect eyebrow. "Control your tongue, beast. It is clear to any being with a functioning mind that we have been displaced by some manner of catastrophic magic. The world has deemed it fit to grant I and you this isolated stage. You should be honored." Her voice was a balm of supreme confidence, a stark contrast to their desperate situation. In her mind, the world didn't happen *to* Priscilla Barielle; the world rearranged itself *for* her.

The first few days were a crucible of clashing wills. Priscilla, accustomed to having her every whim catered to, found the simple act of survival to be utterly beneath her. She would not deign to forage for fruit or attempt to catch fish. That was work for lesser beings. Shaula, driven by instinct and centuries of self-sufficiency, was a whirlwind of activity. She scaled towering trees for sweet, pulpy fruits, wove palm fronds into a crude but effective shelter, and used her formidable strength to drag driftwood for a fire. She did it all with a grumbling commentary directed at the "useless, pretty princess" who did little more than sit elegantly on a sun-warmed rock, observing the world as if it were a performance put on for her amusement.

Yet, an unwilling respect began to form in the cracks of their animosity. Priscilla, for all her haughty pronouncements, saw the raw competence in Shaula's every move. She was a force of nature, perfectly in tune with this wild paradise. And Shaula, despite her insults, couldn't help but notice the unshakeable core of the woman. Priscilla never complained, never showed fear, never once let her regal mask slip. When a venomous serpent slithered from the jungle, Shaula was poised to strike, but Priscilla simply met its gaze with a look of such imperious disdain that the creature, as if recognizing a superior predator, turned and fled. Shaula was left staring, bewildered and strangely impressed. The world of Re Zero Starting Life In Another World had forged them into weapons of different makes, but here, stripped bare, their fundamental natures were on full display.

The turning point came during a torrential downpour. The storm rolled in without warning, a wrathful god tearing the sky asunder. Their flimsy shelter offered little protection from the driving rain and howling wind. They huddled together inside, soaked and shivering, the fire a sputtering, dying ember. For the first time, Priscilla felt a genuine chill, a vulnerability that her pride could not warm away. She wrapped her arms around herself, her teeth chattering softly. Shaula watched her, her usual manic energy subdued by the storm's fury. She saw not the Sun Princess, but a woman, cold and alone.

Without a word, Shaula shifted closer, her body a furnace of desert heat. She draped a muscular arm around Priscilla's shoulders, pulling the noblewoman against her. Priscilla stiffened, ready to unleash a scathing retort about being touched by a commoner, but the words died in her throat. The warmth was undeniable, seeping into her bones, chasing away the cold. It was a simple, primal comfort she hadn't realized she craved. Shaula's skin smelled of salt, sun, and a wild, earthy musk that was intoxicatingly real. Priscilla found herself leaning into the embrace, her head resting tentatively against Shaula's shoulder. They stayed that way for hours, listening to the storm rage outside, wrapped in a shared, silent truce. In the heart of that tempest, their new life, their true Kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu, was beginning to take root.

As days bled into weeks, a new rhythm established itself. Priscilla began to contribute in her own way. Her keen intellect, usually applied to courtly intrigue, proved adept at strategy. She directed Shaula on where to set traps, identified patterns in the tides for the best fishing, and used a shard of obsidian to meticulously map their small island. Shaula, in turn, found a new purpose. Her frantic energy, once dedicated solely to a long-lost Master, now focused on protecting and providing for Priscilla. She would proudly present the largest, most succulent fish, or the sweetest, most vibrant flowers, her chest puffed out, seeking the faint, almost imperceptible nod of approval from the Sun Princess. It was a new form of devotion, one freely given and quietly accepted.

The tension between them changed. It was no longer born of irritation, but of a simmering, unspoken awareness. Priscilla found her gaze lingering on the play of muscles across Shaula's back as she hauled a log, or the way droplets of seawater clung to her long, dark lashes. She was fascinated by the raw, unvarnished power of the woman, a stark contrast to the perfumed, posturing men of the court. Shaula, for her part, was utterly mesmerized by Priscilla Barielle. She would watch, transfixed, as Priscilla bathed in a secluded lagoon, the water sluicing over her pale, flawless skin, her fiery crimson hair fanning out around her like a halo. She looked like a goddess, a sun that had fallen to earth just for her. The stories of Re Zero Starting Life In Another World had never prepared her for a beauty so absolute, so commanding.

One evening, as they sat by the fire, Priscilla was tending to a cut on Shaula's arm, a souvenir from a close encounter with a sharp-shelled crustacean. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, her long, elegant fingers dabbing a soothing plant pulp onto the wound. Shaula watched her, her heart thudding a strange, heavy rhythm in her chest. The firelight danced in Priscilla's blood-red eyes, making them glow like embers.

"It is foolish to be so reckless," Priscilla murmured, her voice a low, velvet hum. She didn't look up from her task.

"I had to get that big one for ya," Shaula replied, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "Only the best for the princess."

Priscilla's fingers stilled. She slowly lifted her gaze, her eyes meeting Shaula's. In that moment, the space between them crackled with an energy more potent than any magic. The roles of princess and guardian, of noble and beast, dissolved into the warm night air. They were just two women, alone at the edge of the world. Acting on an impulse that defied all logic and station, Priscilla leaned forward. Shaula's breath hitched. The Sun Princess, the woman who believed the world revolved around her, closed the distance and pressed her lips against Shaula's.

The kiss was not gentle. It was a collision of fire and earth, a clash of wills expressed through the meeting of mouths. It was demanding, possessive, a statement of ownership from Priscilla, who had never in her life asked for anything she could simply take. But Shaula, after a moment of stunned shock, met her with equal force. Her arms wrapped around Priscilla's waist, pulling her flush against her own powerful body. She kissed back with all the pent-up loneliness of four hundred years, a desperate, hungry claiming of her own. It was a kiss that tasted of salt, smoke, and the sweet promise of a world remade.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their eyes wide with the enormity of what had just happened. Priscilla's perfect composure was fractured, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen. Shaula looked at her, truly looked at her, and saw not a princess to be served, but a woman she desperately wanted. This was it. This was the true beginning. The life before this island was a prologue. Their real story, their passionate and raw Kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu, was about to be written on each other's bodies.

Priscilla's hand, which had been resting on Shaula's arm, slid upwards, her fingers tracing the line of Shaula's shoulder, her neck, until they tangled in her dark, wild hair. Her crimson eyes burned with a possessive fire. "The world has given you to I," she whispered, her voice husky, a declaration rather than a question. "You will be mine. Your strength, your devotion, your very soul. It all belongs to this one."

Shaula didn't protest. A shudder of pure, unadulterated pleasure wracked her body. After centuries of waiting for a master to command her, this felt so exquisitely right. She leaned in, her forehead pressing against Priscilla's. "Yeah," she breathed, her voice thick with emotion. "Okay. I'm yours."

With that surrender, Priscilla took complete control. She pushed Shaula back onto the soft sand, following her down, her body covering the scorpion's. Her hands began a slow, deliberate exploration. She unlaced the crude leather bindings of Shaula's top, her fingers tracing the edges of old scars and the taut, sun-kissed skin. She marveled at the sheer power coiled beneath her touch. This was no delicate courtier; this was a warrior, a survivor, and Priscilla intended to conquer her completely. She lowered her head, her lips tracing a fiery path down Shaula's throat, across her collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Shaula arched into her, a low groan escaping her lips, her hands clenching and unclenching in the sand.

Priscilla's mouth found the peak of Shaula's breast, and she laved it with her tongue before taking the hardened nipple between her teeth, biting down just hard enough to elicit a sharp gasp. Shaula's hips bucked, a primal response to the exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain. "Priscilla," she gasped, the name a prayer on her lips. It was the first time she had used it, shedding the formal "fancy-pants lady" for something far more intimate and real. The sound of her name from those lips sent a jolt of triumph through Priscilla. She was breaking her, remaking her into something that belonged only to her.

While one hand tormented Shaula's breast, the other journeyed lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her rough-spun trousers. Her fingers, so adept at political maneuvering and commanding armies, now delved into a new, more intimate territory. They brushed against the crisp curls of hair at the juncture of Shaula's thighs, finding the heat and wetness gathering there. Shaula cried out, her body tensing in anticipation. Priscilla's fingers slipped inside her, and the world dissolved into pure, shocking sensation for the ancient guardian. No one had ever touched her like this. She was an instrument being played by a master, every touch eliciting a note of shivering pleasure that resonated deep in her soul.

But Shaula was no passive conquest. Her wild nature, her untamed spirit, surged to the surface. With a powerful twist, she reversed their positions, pinning a surprised Priscilla beneath her. The Sun Princess's eyes widened, a flicker of outrage warring with a thrill of excitement. Shaula grinned down at her, a predatory, possessive look in her dark eyes. "My turn, princess," she growled, her voice a low purr.

Shaula's approach was not one of refined seduction, but of overwhelming, worshipful passion. She tore at the remnants of Priscilla's fine dress, exposing the pale, perfect skin beneath to the firelight. She kissed her with a ravenous hunger, her hands roaming over the surprisingly soft curves of the noblewoman's body. Priscilla Barielle, who had never been touched without her express permission, found herself utterly overwhelmed by the sheer force of Shaula's desire. It was terrifying and exhilarating. Shaula’s tongue traced the shell of her ear, whispering praises, calling her a goddess, a sun, her sun. The words, so close to the sycophantic drivel she usually heard, sounded utterly different coming from Shaula. They were raw, sincere, and they stripped away Priscilla's defenses layer by layer.

Shaula's mouth moved down, leaving a trail of reverent kisses across Priscilla's flat stomach, dipping into the curve of her hip. When her tongue found the moist heat between Priscilla's legs, the Sun Princess gasped, her back arching off the sand. Shaula's devotion was absolute. She worshipped Priscilla with her mouth, her tongue an instrument of exquisite pleasure, learning the rhythms of her body, seeking out the heart of her pleasure with an unerring instinct. Priscilla's hands fisted in Shaula's hair, her imperious commands melting into breathless pleas. The carefully constructed world of Priscilla Barielle, where she was the untouchable center, shattered into a million sparkling pieces. She was no longer a princess or a political candidate; she was a woman on the verge of oblivion, brought there by the relentless passion of a creature she once dismissed as a beast.

Her release was a tidal wave, a shattering climax that left her trembling and boneless. As the last shudders subsided, she looked up at Shaula, who was watching her with an expression of pure adoration. In that moment, surrounded by the sounds of the jungle and the crackling fire, Priscilla felt a connection more profound than any she had ever known. It was a bond forged in survival, tempered in respect, and now sealed in a blaze of passion. This strange new life, this unexpected restart, was more real than anything she had known in the world of Re Zero Starting Life In Another World.

She reached up, her hand cupping Shaula's cheek. "Come here," she commanded, but her voice was soft, an invitation. Shaula lowered herself down, and they kissed again, slowly this time, a kiss of equals who had found their other half in the most unlikely of circumstances. They made love again, and again, throughout the long, warm night. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a perfect balance of Priscilla's demanding, possessive nature and Shaula's wild, worshipful energy. They explored every inch of each other's bodies, learning the secrets mapped on their skin, whispering desires into the darkness that were answered with fervent passion. They were discovering not just each other, but themselves, reborn in the crucible of their shared isolation.

The sun rose, painting the sky in shades of crimson and gold that mirrored Priscilla's hair. She awoke in Shaula's arms, the scorpion's body curled protectively around hers. The fire was a pile of graying embers, and the ocean was a placid sheet of turquoise. For the first time in her life, Priscilla Barielle felt a sense of perfect contentment. This island was not a prison; it was a kingdom. A kingdom of two, ruled by a sun and her fiercely loyal guardian. All thoughts of rescue, of returning to her old life of politics and posturing, seemed like a pale imitation of this vibrant, visceral reality. This was where she belonged. This chaotic, passionate, and utterly consuming Kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu was the life she was always meant to live. She pressed a soft kiss to Shaula's shoulder, and as the dark-haired woman stirred and smiled in her sleep, Priscilla knew, with absolute certainty, that she was finally home.