The next morning, Sarisa woke in Lara's arms.
For a few seconds, she did not move.
She only breathed.
Lara was wrapped around her from behind, one arm tucked beneath the pillow, the other locked securely around Sarisa's waist as if even sleep had decided she was not allowed to drift too far.
Sarisa's back rested against Lara's chest, warm and solid, and every slow breath Lara took moved through her like a quiet promise.
The room was still dim, early sunlight leaking through the curtains in thin gold lines. Somewhere outside, the castle was beginning to wake.
Footsteps in distant corridors. A muffled door closing. The faint clatter of morning trays being carried through the family wing.
Usually, a morning like this would have made Sarisa's thoughts attack at once.
Today, strangely, they did not.
The stress was still there. Waiting. Heavy. Real.
But it no longer filled the entire room.
Maybe it was the bath from last night. Maybe it was Lara's arms.
Maybe it was the simple fact that she had cried, been held, and not broken. Whatever the reason, Sarisa opened her eyes and felt not calm exactly, but ready.
Ready enough.
Her fingers moved over Lara's hand at her stomach. The mating bond answered with a low warmth, sleepy and golden.
Lara stirred behind her.
"Mm," Lara mumbled into Sarisa's hair. "Stop thinking before breakfast."
Sarisa smiled. "I wasn't."
"Liar."
"I was admiring the silence."
"That sounds like thinking with perfume."
Sarisa turned carefully in her arms until they were face to face. Lara's eyes were barely open, her hair a black disaster against the pillow, her mouth soft with sleep.
She looked so far from the terrifying masked woman who had stormed the wedding that Sarisa almost laughed.
"You look terrible," Sarisa whispered.
Lara opened one eye fully. "Good morning to you too, my loving mate."
"You look beautifully terrible."
"Better."
Sarisa reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Lara's face. "I'm not as scared as yesterday."
Lara's teasing faded at once.
She studied Sarisa's face, not with doubt, but with care. As if checking for hidden fractures.
"No?"
"No." Sarisa exhaled slowly. "Still scared. But not drowning."
Lara's arm tightened around her waist. "Good."
"You helped."
"I know."
Sarisa raised an eyebrow.
Lara's mouth curved. "What? I'm allowed to know when I'm useful."
"You are impossible."
"And loved."
Sarisa leaned in and kissed her.
It was meant to be soft. A morning kiss. Simple. Gentle.
It became three kisses, then five, because Lara had no discipline and Sarisa had apparently left hers somewhere in the bathwater last night.
Lara rolled halfway over her, hair falling around them, her body warm and heavy and reassuring. Sarisa laughed against her mouth when Lara kissed along her jaw, then the edge of the mating mark.
"Breakfast," Sarisa murmured.
"Rude."
"Responsibilities."
"Ruder."
"Shower."
Lara paused. "Together?"
Sarisa gave her a look.
Lara sighed dramatically. "Fine. Efficiently together."
"Efficiently," Sarisa warned.
It was not entirely efficient.
But it was not disastrous either.
The shower washed away the last heaviness of sleep. Warm water, steam, Lara's hands in Sarisa's hair, Sarisa swatting Lara when she became too smug about being trusted with soap.
They dressed in clothes chosen for what came next: Sarisa in deep ivory and gold, elegant but not bridal, with a dark burgundy cloak fastened at her shoulders in open acknowledgment of the demon realm's protection;
Lara in black formal wear with gold accents, a sword at her side and murder politely folded beneath her expression.
Before leaving the room, Lara stopped Sarisa at the door.
"What?"
Lara reached up and adjusted the collar of Sarisa's dress, making sure the mating mark remained visible.
Sarisa's breath caught.
"You want them to see."
"Yes," Lara said simply. "But only if you do."
Sarisa looked at herself in the mirror.
The mark curved at the side of her throat, dark gold and elegant, unmistakable. A scandal to some. A protection to others. A truth to her.
She lifted her chin. "Let them see."
Lara smiled.
It was not wicked this time.
It was proud.
They reached the dining room hand in hand.
Everyone else was already there.
Malvoria sat at the head of the table looking disturbingly awake, which meant she had either slept well or was surviving entirely on strategy and spite.
Elysia sat beside her, serene in pale green, one hand resting around a cup of tea.
Veylira had documents neatly stacked near her plate, because apparently breakfast and political reconstruction were allowed to share table space. Raveth was eating with the grim satisfaction of someone who believed war required sausages.
The children were there too, though separated from the adults by several plates and a very visible trail of jam.
Aliyah was talking quickly to Kaelith, who nodded as if receiving military intelligence. Neris sat beside them, quieter, but not withdrawn. He was eating toast with both hands and listening.
Aliyah spotted Sarisa first.
"Mama!"
Sarisa barely had time to sit before Aliyah came to hug her from the side. Sarisa kissed the top of her head, breathing in the familiar scent of her daughter's hair.
"I'm here."
Aliyah looked up at her seriously. "You look queen."
Sarisa blinked. "Queen?"
"Yes. Like queen but prettier than old queen."
Raveth choked on her drink.
Malvoria pointed at Aliyah with her fork. "That child has talent."
Elysia sighed. "Please stop encouraging insults before breakfast."
"They are accurate insults."
Lara sat beside Sarisa, hiding a smile badly.
Breakfast began with more warmth than Sarisa expected. Bread, fruit, eggs, tea, juice, and low conversation. Nothing normal, exactly. Normal had fled their lives waving a white flag. But it was steady enough.
Then Malvoria set down her cup.
The room shifted.
"After breakfast," she said, "you need to return to the Celestian realm."
Sarisa's fork paused halfway to her plate.
Lara's hand immediately found her knee beneath the table.
Malvoria's expression softened by a fraction. "Sorry. It's rushed, I know. But your people need reassurance. They need to see you. They need to hear that everything is going well, and that it will continue to go well."
Sarisa swallowed.
The Celestian realm.
Home.
Not home.
A place she loved. A place she feared. A place she now had to face not as daughter, not as bride, but as acting sovereign.
Elysia leaned forward gently. "You won't be alone. Malvoria, Veylira, Raveth, Lara, and I will accompany you for the announcement. The formal statement is already drafted, but you can change anything."
Veylira slid a page across the table. "It confirms the queen's temporary removal from power pending trial, your appointment as acting sovereign by succession right and emergency witness recognition, and the creation of a provisional council."
"And after the announcement?" Sarisa asked.
Malvoria answered. "Meeting with the council."
Sarisa closed her eyes for one second.
Council.
Of course.
There would be questions. Accusations. Fear. Loyalists. Opportunists. People pretending concern while measuring how much power they could take from the rubble.
Lara leaned closer, voice low enough only Sarisa could hear. "Breathe."
Sarisa did.
Once.
Twice.
Then she opened her eyes.
"All right," she said.
Malvoria watched her carefully. "All right?"
Sarisa nodded. "My people need to see that I am not hiding."
Lara's thumb brushed over her knee.
Sarisa looked at the page Veylira had given her, then at Aliyah, then at Neris, then finally at Lara.
"I'll make the announcement," she said. "Then I'll face the council."
Raveth smiled. "Good."
Malvoria's grin sharpened. "Excellent."
Elysia's expression warmed.
And Lara, beside her, simply looked at Sarisa with so much quiet faith that Sarisa felt the last fragile thread of panic inside her pull tight and become something stronger.