Dinner in the royal apartments had always felt different than in the great halls or council rooms.
The chamber was smaller, warmer, washed in gold and blue from painted glass lanterns. The table, set for three, was too large for the company—a trio marooned in the sea of polished mahogany and empty seats.
Kaelith and Aliyah, full of honey cakes and mischief, had long since finished. Sarisa had watched them disappear with Elysia, trailing giggles and whispers down the hall, until only echoes remained.
Now, the queen sat at the head of the table, ramrod straight and dignified as ever, her golden tattoos catching the lamplight as she lifted her wine.
Vaelen sat at Sarisa's right, attentive and composed, a study in princely manners: neat blue hair, polite smile, hands folded exactly as etiquette prescribed.
The silence at the table was not peaceful, nor companionable. It pressed in heavy with the weight of unspoken questions, of futures already half-decided.
The clink of cutlery on porcelain seemed too loud, and the fire in the hearth crackled in counterpoint to the tension.
Sarisa kept her gaze on her plate, pushing tender slices of roast from one side to the other.
The food was delicious, no doubt prepared by the palace's best, but every bite tasted of obligation.
Vaelen, to his credit, tried to maintain a pleasant air, but she saw the way his eyes flicked between her and the queen, measuring, waiting.
It was her mother who broke the silence. "The final arrangements for Aliyah's banquet are in place." The queen's voice was calm, measured, the words dropped into the stillness like stones in a quiet pond.
"It will be a magnificent celebration. Nobles from every house will attend, as well as envoys from the demon and human realms. It is a rare chance to remind everyone of our strength—and our unity."
Vaelen nodded, not quite smiling. "I'm honored to be part of such a celebration, Your Majesty."
Sarisa inclined her head. "Aliyah will be pleased. She's been practicing her curtsy and her bow. Kaelith too. They'll put the court to shame."
A shadow of a smile touched the queen's lips, quickly hidden. "Children have a way of cutting through the artifice, don't they?"
Sarisa allowed herself a small smile, but it faded quickly as the queen's gaze turned serious.
Her mother set down her wineglass with the quiet finality of a verdict. "And on the subject of unity—it is time to speak plainly. Vaelen, Sarisa. Are you both prepared to announce your engagement at the banquet?"
The words hung in the air, charged, undeniable. Sarisa felt her fork pause mid-bite, her mouth suddenly dry.
Vaelen did not hesitate. "Yes, Your Majesty. I am ready." He turned to Sarisa, his eyes earnest.
"I know this is… unconventional, and perhaps sooner than you wished. But I am committed to making this partnership work. For you, for Aliyah, for the realm."
Sarisa studied him. Vaelen's expression was open, almost hopeful. He wasn't a bad man—perhaps even a good one, in the ways that mattered.
He had never pressed her, never demanded more than she was willing to give. Still, the thought of standing before the court, declaring herself bound to someone who was not her choice, felt like stepping into a cold, deep river. It was duty, not desire, that propelled her forward.
She took a careful breath. "I understand what's required of me. I want what is best for the realm. And for Aliyah." She glanced at her mother, trying to read in her expression some measure of approval, or at least acceptance.
The queen watched her, eyes unreadable. "This is not only about the realm, Sarisa. It is about your life. You must be certain."
Sarisa pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to say the words that flickered at the edge of her tongue: I am not certain. I do not know if I can give Vaelen what he deserves, or what you expect of me. Instead, she managed, "Certainty is a luxury, Mother. Sometimes we must act for the good of others."
A silence fell again, heavier than before. Vaelen shifted, the tiniest furrow in his brow betraying nerves. "I… hope to make things easier for you, not harder. If you wish to wait, we can wait."
The queen gave a small shake of her head.
"Waiting will not change what is required. Aliyah's banquet is the perfect time. All the great houses will be gathered. There can be no rumor, no whisper of instability, if we show them a future set in stone."
Her gaze softened fractionally as she looked at her daughter. "You are strong, Sarisa. I would not have chosen you if you were not. But you must learn to bend, or you will break."
Sarisa felt the old ache of duty settling on her shoulders—the armor she wore in place of joy.
She remembered nights in her father's library, his voice gentle, teaching her that leadership was sometimes a wound you carried, not a crown you wore. She missed him, now more than ever. He would have understood, she thought.
Vaelen tried again, quietly. "If there is anything I can do—anything at all—to make this less… difficult, you need only tell me."
She managed a small, grateful nod. "Thank you. I appreciate that."
The meal continued, stilted. Her mother asked after Aliyah's studies, whether Kaelith was settling in, how preparations for the banquet were progressing.
Sarisa answered in measured tones, reciting plans and menus and seating charts, her mind only half-present.
Underneath it all, a dull, echoing sense of loss grew: not for the marriage itself, but for the freedom she would be surrendering, the future she might have chosen, had she dared.
She glanced at Vaelen as he politely complimented the wine, at her mother's dignified composure, and wondered: Was it possible to do what was right and still be true to herself? Could she shape happiness from a union forged in politics and necessity?
When the meal ended, her mother stood, signaling the close of courtly matters. "The announcement will be made at the end of the banquet, after Aliyah's honors. Vaelen, you will be presented beside Sarisa. It is important that the image is… complete."
Vaelen bowed. "Of course, Your Majesty. I will not disappoint you."
The queen nodded, then turned to Sarisa. "I know this is not easy. But you are your father's daughter. You will do what must be done. I have every faith."
With that, she swept from the room, her presence as commanding in retreat as it was in command.
Left alone with Vaelen, Sarisa let out a slow, quiet breath. Vaelen leaned forward, his voice gentle.
"Are you all right?"
Sarisa hesitated, then gave a wry smile. "That is a complicated question."
He smiled in return, almost sheepishly. "I suspect you will find me a very poor substitute for freedom. Or for love."
The honesty in his words startled her. "You deserve honesty, Vaelen. And perhaps, with time, we can build something real—if not love, then trust."
He nodded. "That is all I ask. And I will do my best for Aliyah as well. She deserves every kindness I can give."
For a moment, Sarisa felt something loosen in her chest. Not joy, she thought, but relief. At least she would not be hated, or forced. The path was not of her choosing, but it would not be cruel.
She rose, smoothing her gown. "Thank you. For understanding."
Vaelen offered her a small, respectful bow. "Thank you for not giving up."
They parted at the door, Sarisa retreating to her study, Vaelen to his guest quarters. As she closed the heavy door behind her, Sarisa leaned against it, head bowed.