The rest of the day passed so quickly it almost felt dishonest.
Sarisa had expected the hours to drag. She had expected every meeting to feel like another stone placed on her chest. Instead, time became a river in flood, dragging her from one chamber to another before she could properly catch her breath.
There was a meeting with the household officials, who looked terrified of choosing the wrong tone when addressing her.
There was a meeting with the temporary legal committee, where Veylira politely dismantled three objections before the men making them realized they had been buried.
There was a short, tense discussion with the captain of the Celestian guard, whose loyalty seemed sincere but bruised. There were papers to sign. Statements to review. Names to approve for investigation.
Her mother was in a dungeon. The throne was shaking. Her marriage had become a constitutional matter. And still, the realm needed bread.
That, somehow, made ruling feel both absurd and terrifyingly real.
Dinner came late.
It was smaller than usual, set in a private dining room rather than the grand hall. Malvoria spent half the meal making remarks sharp enough to carve stone.
Elysia moderated with graceful patience. Raveth complained that the palace wine tasted like "nervous grapes." Veylira looked at the ceiling once and said the dining room had "excellent acoustics for future interrogations," which made two servants nearly drop a tray.
Aliyah wanted to sleep with Sarisa again.
So did Neris, though he did not say it as directly. He hovered near Lara's side after dinner, looking at the floor and pretending not to care.
Sarisa's heart twisted.
But she was exhausted. Lara was exhausted. And tomorrow would come with more meetings, more ceremony, more impossible choices wearing polite shoes.
Malvoria, surprisingly gentle beneath all her spikes, crouched in front of Aliyah and said, "Tonight you are staying with Aunt Malvoria and Aunt Elysia."
Aliyah narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
"Because your mothers need sleep."
Aliyah considered this. "Are you going to let us eat sweets?"
Elysia said, "No."
Malvoria said, "Reasonably."
Elysia turned her head slowly. "Malvoria."
"What? Reason is flexible."
Kaelith appeared from nowhere and immediately declared that a sleepover in her room was legally binding.
Neris followed her after Lara promised, quietly, that she would come see him first thing in the morning.
So, for the first time in what felt like centuries and was only 2 days, Sarisa and Lara were alone.
In Sarisa's room.
The room she had slept in as a princess. The room where she had cried into pillows as a girl and learned to swallow her anger before breakfast.
The room where her mother had entered without knocking too many times, turning privacy into another privilege that could be revoked.
Tonight, it felt different.
The curtains were drawn. The lamps burned warm instead of cold. The sheets had been changed.
A small vase of red flowers sat on the bedside table, definitely not Celestian in style, which meant Malvoria had probably ordered them placed there out of spite.
Sarisa had bathed first.
The water had helped. So had the silence. So had the fact that when she emerged wrapped in a robe, the room did not feel like a cage. It felt like a room waiting to be reclaimed.
Now she sat on the bed, hair damp over one shoulder, robe loose around her body, waiting for Lara.
She should have been thinking about tomorrow.
Instead, she was thinking about Lara.
A terrible habit, really.
Then the bathroom door opened.
Sarisa forgot everything else.
Lara stepped out wearing only a towel wrapped low around her waist, her hair wet and pushed back from her face, droplets sliding down the strong line of her neck and over the hard planes of her chest.
The lamplight caught on her skin, turning every scar and muscle into something carved, deliberate, unfair.
Sarisa stared.
There was no dignified way to pretend otherwise.
Lara noticed immediately.
Of course she did.
Her mouth curved slowly. "Careful, princess."
Sarisa lifted her chin, though her eyes betrayed her by moving down Lara's stomach to the sharp cut of her abs. "I am perfectly careful."
"You look like you're about to make bad decisions."
"Can they be bad if I enjoy them?"
Lara laughed, low and warm, and crossed the room with maddening ease. "That sounds like something Malvoria would say before causing property damage."
"Do not compare me to your sister."
"You both enjoy trouble."
"I enjoy you."
Lara stopped beside the bed.
For a second, the teasing shifted. Softened. The whole day seemed to pause between them.
Then Lara leaned down, one hand braced on the mattress beside Sarisa, close enough that Sarisa could smell soap, warm skin, and the faint smoke of Lara's magic.
"Should I call you my fiancée, hm?" Lara asked, voice low and dangerous with amusement.
Sarisa's breath caught.
It was ridiculous. They were mated. Bound by blood and magic. They had already crossed lines no ceremony could deepen. And yet the word struck her somewhere tender.
Fiancée.
Sarisa looked up at her, pulse quickening. "You may."
Lara's smile softened. "May I?"
"Do not make me regret granting permission."
"I would never."
"You absolutely would."
Lara brushed her thumb over Sarisa's cheek. "My fiancée."
The words were quieter this time.
Reverent.
Sarisa's chest tightened so much it almost hurt.
"You like saying that," she whispered.
"I love saying that."
Sarisa reached for her, fingers hooking lightly into the edge of the towel at Lara's waist. Lara's brows rose.
"Sarisa."
"What?"
"That is dangerous territory."
Sarisa smiled, slow and sweet. "I thought you liked dangerous territory."
"I do." Lara leaned closer until their mouths nearly touched. "But I was told my future queen needs sleep."
"My future consort should stop talking."
Lara's eyes darkened.
Then she kissed her.
It was not hurried. Not desperate. The day had held enough urgency for ten lives.
This kiss was slower, deeper, filled with the strange new sweetness of knowing they had claimed something publicly now, even if the ceremony had not yet happened.
Lara's hand slid into Sarisa's damp hair, cradling the back of her head. Sarisa pulled her closer by the towel, just enough to make Lara inhale sharply against her mouth.
"Careful," Lara murmured again.
Sarisa smiled against her lips. "You keep saying that."
"Because you keep being dangerous."
"Good."
Lara laughed softly, then climbed onto the bed beside her, towel still miraculously in place, though Sarisa privately considered that unfortunate.
They settled under the blankets slowly, kissing between movements, smiling when elbows bumped and the sheets tangled. For once, there was no rush to turn heat into fire.
Only warmth.
Lara pulled Sarisa against her chest, her skin still warm from the bath. Sarisa rested one hand over Lara's stomach, fingers tracing idly over the firm lines there.
"You're staring again," Lara murmured.
"I'm touching, actually."
"Worse."
"Do you object?"
"Never."
Sarisa pressed a kiss to Lara's collarbone. "Good."
The room quieted.
Outside, the Celestian castle continued breathing through its unsettled night. Somewhere in the palace, advisors were probably still awake, guards were shifting posts, and councilors were writing worried letters to people who deserved ulcers.
But here, in this bed, Sarisa let the world shrink.
Lara's hand moved slowly through her hair.
"You did well today," Lara said.
Sarisa closed her eyes. "You too."
"I proposed to you in a council chamber."
"You argued legal requirements with terrifying accuracy."
"I had help."
"Veylira?"
"And spite."
Sarisa laughed softly. "Spite is very loyal to this family."
"It's practically a cousin."
The laughter faded into a comfortable silence.
After a while, Sarisa whispered, "I chose Daemara."
Lara's hand stilled in her hair.
"I know."
"Are you happy?"
Lara shifted, looking down at her. "Sarisa, I'm trying not to be unbearable about it."
"That sounds difficult for you."
"Extremely."
Sarisa smiled.
Lara kissed her forehead. "But only if you still want it tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that."
"I will."
"You can keep Nocturna if—"
Sarisa pressed two fingers to Lara's mouth. "I know. Stop trying to give me exits from choices I already made."
Lara kissed her fingers.
"All right, fiancée."
Sarisa's heart did that foolish little thing again, that fluttering, molten turn in her chest.
She curled closer. "Say it again."
Lara's smile could be felt against her forehead.
"My fiancée."
Sarisa closed her eyes.