After Marena was dragged from the hall, silence remained behind her like smoke.
It was not the silence of peace. Not yet. It was the silence of a room that had witnessed the end of something old and did not quite know whether to mourn, cheer, or tremble.
The tribunal doors had closed with a heavy finality, taking Marena's last glare with them, but Sarisa could still feel it against her skin.
Her mother was gone.
Not dead.
Gone from power. Gone from the throne. Gone from the center of the realm she had wrapped her hands around until no one remembered what breathing felt like.
For a moment, Sarisa could not move.
She stood in the center of the tribunal hall with Lara beside her, her hand still held firmly in Lara's warm grip. The judges remained standing.
The council remained standing. The nobles in the gallery, the priests, the witnesses from the human realm, the demon representatives, all of them looked toward her now.
Not Marena.
Her.
The weight of it almost made her knees weak.
Then the chief judge bowed.
Slowly.
Deeply.
A heartbeat later, the rest of the tribunal followed.
Then the council.
Then the guards.
Then, row by row, the people in the galleries bent their heads.
Sarisa stared.
Lara's thumb brushed once over her hand.
Sarisa breathed.
The chief judge straightened first. He was an elderly Celestian with silver hair, a narrow face, and eyes that had watched too much law become politics over the years. Today, he looked tired, but not uncertain.
"Princess Sarisa," he said.
The title felt different now.
"Yes?"
The judge inclined his head. "There remains one matter of succession stability that must be formally addressed before this assembly disperses."
Sarisa almost laughed.
Of course there was one more matter.
There was always one more matter. Crowns seemed to reproduce through unfinished business.
"What matter?" she asked, though she already suspected.
The judge glanced briefly toward Lara, then back to Sarisa.
"For the future of the realm, we need to ask when you wish to plan the wedding rites. Celestia cannot remain long without a crowned sovereign, and under the council's accepted terms, your marriage must precede your coronation."
A ripple moved through the hall.
Not shock this time. Expectation.
Sarisa felt Lara go very still beside her.
The wedding.
Not the false one with Vaelen. Not white flowers and hidden knives. Not her mother smiling as she led her toward a future designed like a cage.
Her real wedding.
With Lara.
By Celestian tradition.
Before the realm.
Sarisa turned her head and looked at her.
Lara was already looking back.
There was something in her eyes that made the tribunal hall fade around the edges. Fire, yes. Always fire. But also tenderness, fear, resolve, and the sort of love that did not ask to be easy before it chose to stay.
Sarisa's throat tightened.
Two months.
The thought came with surprising clarity.
Not tomorrow. Not rushed into panic. Not too far away, either, where enemies could sharpen doubts and the realm could rot in uncertainty.
Two months. Enough time to prepare. Enough time to breathe. Enough time to plan a wedding that was not a funeral wearing lace.
Sarisa turned back to the judge.
"We wish to marry in two months," she said.
Her voice carried cleanly through the hall.
Lara's hand tightened around hers.
Sarisa continued, stronger now. "After the wedding rites are completed, the coronation may take place immediately after, according to Celestian law and council agreement."
The councilors exchanged looks.
Lord Aerion rose slowly, cane in hand. "Two months is swift, but not impossible."
Lady Irielle nodded. "The realm will need symbols of stability. A wedding followed by coronation may help."
Councilor Vaeris looked as if he had swallowed a thorn bush, but even he did not object. Perhaps the trial had drained him. Perhaps the public collapse of Marena had made stubbornness taste dangerous.
The chief judge lifted his hand. "Then the tribunal records the declaration. Princess Sarisa will marry Lara Daemara under Celestian rites in two months' time. The coronation will follow."
There was a pause.
Then, one by one, the judges nodded.
"So recorded," the chief judge said.
The words fell like a seal.
It was done.
The assembly began to break apart after that, slowly at first, then with growing movement. Nobles stood in clusters, whispering. Priests gathered their scrolls. Human envoys spoke quietly with Veylira.
Demon guards escorted several officials out to prevent anyone from making an emotional, politically disastrous exit.
The hall that had held judgment became human again, full of footsteps, voices, rustling fabric, and the stunned exhaustion of people who had watched history bite.
Sarisa stayed still until most of them had gone.
Then she sighed.
Not a polite sigh. Not a royal breath measured for public consumption.
A real sigh.
It left her from somewhere deep, somewhere bruised and exhausted and finally, finally able to loosen.
Lara heard it and turned toward her at once. "You all right?"
Sarisa looked at her.
No, not all right. Not completely. Perhaps not for a long time.
But free.
Closer to free than she had ever been.
"I think," Sarisa said slowly, "I am still standing."
Lara's mouth curved. "Good. I like you standing."
Sarisa narrowed her eyes faintly. "Do not make that sound indecent in a tribunal hall."
"I would never."
"You absolutely would."
Lara smiled wider, but before she could answer, Malvoria appeared beside them with the air of a woman arriving late to her own joke.
"So," Malvoria said brightly, "you are getting married in two months."
Sarisa closed her eyes for half a second. "Here we go."
Raveth joined from the other side, looking deeply delighted. "Two months. How romantic. How efficient. How terrifying for every wedding planner in this realm."
Elysia, graceful as always, came with Veylira behind her. "Ignore them."
Malvoria placed a hand over her heart. "I am wounded. I came to offer support."
"No," Lara said. "You came to be annoying."
"Supportively annoying."
"Still annoying."
Raveth looked at Sarisa with a grin. "Have you considered the wedding dress?"
Sarisa's smile faded into immediate horror. "Already?"
"Of course. The last one was a tragedy. We need revenge through tailoring."
Malvoria snapped her fingers. "Exactly. The new dress must publicly insult the old dress."
Lara frowned. "Can clothing insult clothing?"
"With enough money," Veylira said calmly.
Sarisa stared at her. "You too?"
Veylira's expression remained serene. "A wedding following a political trial is a symbolic event. Every visual element matters."
Raveth nodded solemnly. "See? Revenge tailoring."
Elysia sighed. "That is not what she said."
"It is what she meant," Malvoria said.
Lara stepped closer to Sarisa, wrapping an arm around her waist. "I vote for anything Sarisa likes."
Sarisa softened.
Then Malvoria pointed at Lara. "And you. Celestian wedding clothes."
Lara's expression shifted into immediate suspicion. "No."
"You don't even know what they look like."
"That is why I am saying no early."
Raveth's eyes lit up. "There might be feathers."
"I will burn this realm."
Sarisa laughed.
It burst from her before she could stop it, bright and exhausted and utterly uncontrolled. The sound made Lara look at her with soft wonder, and made Malvoria grin like she had personally won a war.
"Good," Malvoria said. "She still laughs. The realm may survive."
Elysia stepped forward and took Sarisa's hands gently. "You did well today."
The humor softened.
Sarisa looked at her. "Thank you."
"No," Elysia said. "Truly. You did not become cruel because cruelty was offered to you. That matters."
Sarisa's throat tightened.
Lara's arm tightened too.
Raveth looked toward the closed doors where Marena had been taken. "Still think we should have added fire somewhere."
"Raveth," Elysia said.
"What? Not killing fire. Symbolic fire."
Malvoria lifted a finger. "Symbolic fire could work for the wedding."
"No," Lara and Sarisa said together.
Malvoria grinned. "Look at that. Already married in spirit."
Sarisa leaned into Lara's side, too tired to protest properly.
Two months.
A wedding.
A coronation.
A new name.
A new reign.
The thought should have crushed her.
Instead, with Lara's warmth beside her and this ridiculous family around her, it felt almost possible.
Terrifying, yes.
But possible.
Sarisa looked once more at the tribunal hall, at the place where her mother had been sentenced, where the old reign had ended, where her own future had been stamped into law.
Then she looked at Lara.
"In two months," she whispered.
Lara smiled at her, soft and fierce.
"In two months," she repeated.