Lara was already drunk.
Not pleasantly warm. Not delicately relaxed.
Drunk.
The sort of drunk where the room had stopped moving normally and begun making slow, suspicious decisions around her.
She sat sprawled across a long couch in one of the Demon Palace's private lounges, one boot still on, the other abandoned somewhere near a table that had become a battlefield of empty glasses, half-eaten food, and a ceremonial sash Raveth had tied around a chair for reasons no one remembered.
Malvoria sat opposite her, elegant as ever, which Lara found offensive.
Raveth was beside Malvoria with a bottle in one hand and the expression of a woman witnessing history improve through alcohol.
"This," Malvoria said, pointing at Lara, "is deeply disappointing."
Lara squinted at her.
"You're disappointing."
"That lacked structure."
"It had feeling."
Raveth lifted her glass. "A powerful artistic choice."
Lara nodded solemnly. Raveth understood her.
Possibly.
Lara had lost track of who was on her side twenty minutes ago.
The evening had begun with a simple promise.
One drink.
That was what Malvoria had said.
One drink to celebrate Lara's final night before the wedding. One quiet evening, no political speeches, no tailors, no questions about ceremonial flower symbolism.
Then Raveth had arrived carrying three bottles without labels.
That should have been warning enough.
Now Lara was holding a cup of something dark red that tasted like fire, berries, and bad decisions.
She took another sip.
Malvoria watched her. "You are going to regret that tomorrow."
"I regret you now."
"You say that every week."
"And I mean it differently each time."
Raveth leaned back, boots on the table. "I still cannot believe you're getting married."
Lara frowned at her. "Why?"
Raveth looked at Malvoria.
Malvoria looked back.
Both of them started laughing.
Lara's eyes narrowed.
"What?"
Malvoria tried to compose herself. Failed. "Nothing."
"That was not nothing."
Raveth wiped at the corner of one eye. "We just thought you would finish alone."
Lara stared at her.
Malvoria lifted one finger. "Or perhaps with several children."
Raveth added, "From several women."
They both started laughing again.
Lara sat up too quickly.
The room tilted.
She caught herself on the couch arm and pointed at them with immense dignity.
"I would not have multiple children from multiple women."
Malvoria tilted her head. "No?"
"No."
Raveth raised an eyebrow.
Lara considered.
"Probably."
That made them worse.
Malvoria folded forward, one hand over her stomach.
Raveth slapped the table.
Lara scowled.
"You are both terrible."
Malvoria managed to breathe again. "Lara, you spent half your adult life flirting with anything beautiful enough to threaten you."
"That is not true."
"You once disappeared from a royal dinner because a dragon ambassador smiled at you."
"She had nice shoulders."
Raveth lifted her drink in approval. "Fair."
Malvoria pointed at Raveth. "Do not encourage her."
"She is getting married tomorrow. It is too late to improve her."
Lara leaned back again, drink resting against her stomach.
"I was charming."
"You were catastrophic," Malvoria corrected.
"Same thing."
"No."
"Mostly."
Raveth studied Lara for a moment. "You know, I genuinely thought you would end up living in that secret house forever."
Lara's expression shifted.
The hidden house.
Her place above the Demon capital. The place she had built at sixteen because she had wanted somewhere no one could command her.
Somewhere without royal duties, expectations, or people discussing which throne she might inherit.
She had imagined herself there alone.
Then Sarisa had entered it.
Now the memory of those rooms carried silver hair, quiet laughter, warm mornings, and the sound of Sarisa calling her impossible.
Lara looked down at her drink.
"I thought so too," she admitted.
The laughter softened.
Only slightly.
Malvoria watched her with a different expression now, one Lara was too drunk to properly escape.
"You really did not think you would marry?"
Lara shook her head.
"No."
"Never?"
"Never."
Raveth reached for the bottle and poured more into Lara's glass.
Malvoria slapped her hand away.
"She has had enough."
"She can still form words."
"Badly."
Lara lifted her cup. "My words are excellent."
"You called the carpet judgmental."
"It is."
All three of them looked down.
The carpet was black with gold stitching.
Raveth nodded. "She has a point."
Malvoria sighed.
Lara sank deeper into the couch, staring at the ceiling.
"I did not want anyone that close."
The words came out quieter than she intended.
Malvoria's expression changed again.
Raveth stopped smiling.
Lara hated that immediately.
"Do not look at me like that."
"Like what?" Malvoria asked.
"Like you are about to have emotions."
Malvoria's mouth twitched. "Terrifying."
"It is."
Lara took another sip, then remembered Malvoria had said she had enough and drank out of spite.
"I did not want someone to know me," Lara continued. "Not properly. It seemed inconvenient."
Raveth snorted. "Love usually is."
"It looked exhausting."
"It is," Malvoria said.
Lara frowned at her. "You are supposed to say something romantic."
"I am married, not delusional."
Raveth lifted her glass. "Beautiful."
Lara looked at Malvoria.
Malvoria's smile softened.
"But worth it," she added.
Lara stared at her drink.
"Yes."
The word felt simple.
True.
Sarisa was worth every council meeting, every argument, every sleepless night, every piece of ceremonial nonsense.
Even the feathers.
Possibly not the feathers.
But most things.
"I love her," Lara said.
Malvoria groaned.
Raveth dropped her head back against the couch.
Lara glared at them. "What?"
"You become unbearable when drunk," Malvoria said.
"I am being sincere."
"That is the unbearable part."
Raveth pointed at Lara. "Say something worse."
Lara's glare deepened.
"She makes me feel safe."
Malvoria covered her face.
Raveth made a choking sound.
Lara sat forward again, offended. "Why are you laughing?"
"Because," Malvoria said through her fingers, "you once stabbed a man for saying you looked approachable."
"He was lying."
"And now you are sitting here talking about safety."
"Different situation."
Raveth leaned toward her. "Does Sarisa know you become this soft when drunk?"
"I am not soft."
"You just said she makes you feel safe."
"That is a tactical statement."
Malvoria's shoulders shook.
Lara threw a cushion.
It missed Malvoria completely and struck Raveth in the face.
Raveth caught it and hugged it to her chest.
"Violence. There she is."
Lara tried to stand.
This was a mistake.
The floor rose unexpectedly, and she sat back down with more force than dignity.
Malvoria watched her. "Excellent."
"I stood."
"You attempted."
"I could walk."
"No."
"I am getting married tomorrow. I have authority."
"Not over gravity."
Lara pointed at her again.
"One day, I will win an argument with you."
"Not tonight."
Raveth examined the bottle. "There is enough left to change that."
Malvoria took the bottle from her.
"No more."
Raveth looked betrayed.
Lara looked more betrayed.
"This is my night."
"And I am protecting your wedding morning."
"I can heal."
"You cannot heal embarrassment."
Lara considered that.
Demon magic could repair bone, skin, muscle, even some magical damage.
Malvoria was right.
Embarrassment was immortal.
Lara leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
Tomorrow.
The thought moved through the fog inside her head.
Tomorrow, she would marry Sarisa.
She smiled.
Malvoria noticed immediately.
"There it is again."
Lara opened one eye. "What?"
"That stupid expression."
"What expression?"
"The one you make when you think about her."
Raveth leaned closer, inspecting. "She does look ridiculous."
Lara lifted her middle finger without opening the other eye.
Malvoria laughed.
For a few moments, the room settled into warm noise. Raveth stole the bottle back. Malvoria threatened her.
Lara searched for her missing boot and found it under the couch despite being certain it had insulted her earlier.
Then Raveth spoke again.
"So, how many children?"
Lara froze.
Malvoria's eyes lit up.
"No," Lara said.
"One?" Raveth asked.
"No."
"Three?"
"No."
"Six?"
"I will kill you."
Malvoria smiled wickedly. "Sarisa might want several more ."
Lara stared at her.
That possibility had occurred to her.
Not seriously. Not in a planned way. More as a strange flash of future life. Aliyah older. Neris laughing more. Another child with Sarisa's eyes or Lara's fire. A crowded table. Too much noise.
A home that felt full.
Lara's expression betrayed her again.
Malvoria slapped Raveth's arm.
"She wants more."
"I do not."
"You do."
"I said nothing."
"You made the face."
"What face?"
"The future-mother face."
Lara grabbed another cushion.
This one hit Malvoria.
Victory.
Raveth laughed hard enough to spill her drink.
Malvoria slowly lowered the cushion from her face.
"You are fortunate you are getting married tomorrow."
"Why?"
"Because otherwise I would exile you."
"You cannot exile me. I live elsewhere."
"That does complicate things."
Lara stood again.
This time, Malvoria caught her before gravity could repeat its betrayal.
"We are putting you to bed."
"I do not need bed."
"You are falling asleep while standing."
"I am thinking."
"You are snoring."
"I do not snore."
Raveth picked up Lara's missing boot. "Evidence says otherwise."
Lara did not know what that meant.
Malvoria hooked Lara's arm over her shoulder and began guiding her toward the door. Raveth followed, carrying the boot and the bottle like sacred objects.
As they reached the corridor, Lara looked back at the destroyed room.
"Good night," she told the judgmental carpet.
Malvoria sighed.
Raveth whispered, "It respects you now."