The world spun and spun, as if it, too, could not quite believe what had happened.
A few minutes after the attack, Sarisa found herself in the meeting room off the royal wing—a chamber of high windows and silver-painted walls, with a great oval table stretching the length of the room.
Usually, the space was reserved for council business, strategic plans, and the endless parade of courtly arguments.
Tonight, it was a sanctuary—if such a thing could still exist in the Celestian castle.
The queen sat at the head of the table, flanked by Vaelen, who was pale but composed, and several members of the royal guard.
Malvoria was there too, her presence as forceful as ever, the orange of her magic still a faint shimmer around her as if daring any last threat to show itself.
Elysia stood at Malvoria's side, her hand resting lightly on Kaelith's shoulder. Lara thank the stars stood just behind Sarisa, eyes hawk-sharp, jaw clenched.
Aliyah clung to Sarisa's arm, cheeks blotched from her earlier tears but silent now, wide-eyed and wary.
She refused to be separated from her mothers, and no one had the will to challenge her on it. Kaelith pressed close to Aliyah, offering her comfort in the blunt, stubborn way only a child could.
It was all so surreal. The gold and glamour of the banquet hall still clung to Sarisa's memory, jarring against the image of bodies on the marble, the bright arc of Lara's magic, the sound of a knife whistling far too close to her side.
No one spoke at first. The room pulsed with tension, suspicion heavy in the air. Every member of the guard looked as if they wanted to tear apart the world and everyone in it until they found the person responsible for the breach.
The queen broke the silence, her voice cold and clipped. "This was not random. It was coordinated. I want answers. I want every guest, every servant questioned. No one leaves this castle until we know how they got in."
The captain of the guard bowed. "Majesty, we have already begun. But they had inside help. They must have."
Malvoria's eyes blazed. "If you find a demon behind this, bring them to me. I'll have words." Her glare swept the room, daring anyone to comment. No one did.
Elysia's voice was gentle but firm. "We must check the guest list for discrepancies. The household staff, as well. No one goes unexamined."
Vaelen—his hand bandaged where he'd been grazed in the chaos added quietly, "And the palace mages. Someone may have tampered with the security wards."
Sarisa listened to all of it, her heart pounding, trying to piece together the edges of her fear and the adrenaline still singing in her veins. Mostly, she kept a tight hold on Aliyah and let the adults speak.
I should be dead, she thought, a chill running through her. If Lara hadn't moved—if Lara hadn't been watching so closely, so unerringly Sarisa would be lying in a pool of her own blood. The certainty of it shook her more than she wanted to admit.
She glanced sideways, studying Lara in the harsh crystal light. There was blood on Lara's sleeve—dried now, but evidence all the same.
Her jaw was set, eyes narrow, posture ready to spring at the slightest provocation.
Yet, beneath that unbreakable exterior, Sarisa caught the tremor of worry, the anger that was always more than just anger. Protection. Fear.
The conversation churned on suspects, magical signatures, possible motives but Sarisa barely heard it. She felt only the small, fierce weight of Aliyah pressed against her side, the warmth of Lara's presence just behind, the knowledge that something irrevocable had changed in the air.
At last, the queen waved a hand, dismissing the meeting for the night. "No more tonight. Rest. The guards will be doubled. There will be no further surprises." Her gaze swept over Sarisa and lingered, unreadable.
"Princess, take your daughter and your…family. Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be hard enough."
Malvoria and Elysia shared a look. "We'll check on you in the morning," Malvoria promised, her voice low. "I will be up until dawn. If you need anything, call."
Kaelith ran to hug Aliyah, whispering fiercely, "You were so brave." Then she let herself be swept away by her mothers, promising a rematch at cards as soon as things were normal again.
The room emptied until it was only Sarisa, Lara, and Aliyah.
The walk back to Sarisa's chambers felt longer than usual, the corridors echoing with the day's chaos.
Every shadow seemed to stretch, every footstep magnified. Aliyah clung to both her mothers now, hands small but determined, her red eyes darting from face to face.
In the antechamber, Sarisa paused, gathering herself. She tried to put on her old composure, the mask of calm the court expected. But Aliyah saw straight through it, and so did Lara.
Aliyah's voice was small. "Can I sleep with you tonight? Both of you? Just us. I don't want anyone else."
Sarisa blinked, the request so gentle, so full of childlike logic and absolute need, that it broke something inside her. "Of course, love," she said, her voice soft and certain. "Just us."
Lara shot her a look—one of those rare, silent communications that needed no words. You okay with this? Sarisa nodded minutely.
She wanted nothing more than to draw her daughter and yes Lara close, to keep them safe, to believe that some warmth and softness could still be found at the ragged end of a day like this.
They moved through the rooms in silence. The castle's staff had been dismissed; no one would intrude.
Sarisa led the way into her bedroom, massive and candle-lit, the bed wide enough for a royal family but suddenly feeling just right for three.
Aliyah scrambled into the middle, pulling the sheets up to her chin, looking expectantly at both her mothers. Lara, wordless, sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled off her boots with a sigh.
"Move over, little gremlin," she grumbled, but the tone was all affection.
Aliyah grinned, some of the tension leaving her small face. "I'm not a gremlin, I'm a princess."
Sarisa slipped off her shoes and set her jewelry on the nightstand, hands trembling just a little. She slid into bed on Aliyah's other side, gathering her daughter close. Lara lay down on Aliyah's left, making a protective wall.
For a while, there was only the quiet hush of breathing, the slow steadying of three hearts.
Aliyah was the first to break the silence, turning so she could look at both of them. "Are you okay, Mom? Did it hurt?"
Sarisa shook her head, kissing Aliyah's brow. "No, love. Lara kept me safe."
Aliyah wriggled closer to Lara. "You're strong, Mom. Like a dragon."
Lara's lips twitched. "Only on good days."
Aliyah was quiet for a moment, then, very softly, she said, "I was scared. But I knew you'd come."
That nearly undid Sarisa all over again. She blinked back tears and pressed her lips to Aliyah's dark hair, holding her tight.
"We'll always come for you," Sarisa whispered. "Always."
Outside, the castle quieted—night reclaiming the halls, the threat gone for now but not forgotten.
Aliyah's breathing grew slow and deep, finally succumbing to exhaustion. Sarisa looked over her daughter's sleeping form at Lara, the lamplight throwing gold across her sharp cheekbones, her eyes still too awake.
"Thank you," Sarisa whispered, voice so low it was nearly soundless.
Lara shook her head, her voice rough. "Don't thank me. It's my job."
Sarisa smiled faintly. "No. It's more than that. You didn't hesitate. I… I owe you my life."
A long pause stretched between them, the air thick with everything unspoken.
Finally, Lara rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand, her gaze earnest and searching. "You don't owe me anything, Sarisa. I—" She trailed off, unsure, then swallowed hard. "I just needed you to be safe. That's all."
They lapsed into quiet again. In the space between breaths, Sarisa found herself cataloging everything she'd nearly lost—the weight of Aliyah's hand in hers, the shape of Lara's silhouette in the dark, the possibility of more tomorrows.
Her body still hummed with the residue of fear, but slowly, in the gentle hush of the room, she felt it drain away, replaced by something warmer, deeper.
Lara brushed Aliyah's hair from her face, careful and gentle. "She's strong. She gets that from you."
Sarisa smiled, soft and true. "No. She gets that from both of us."
Another silence, easier this time, cradled them as Aliyah slept on, safe between her mothers.
Sarisa closed her eyes, listening to the steady, familiar rhythm of Lara's breath and the distant, comforting quiet of a world that, for tonight at least, had survived.
She drifted, at last, into sleep—held on one side by her daughter's small hand, and on the other by the presence of the only person who had ever made her feel both fierce and unbreakably vulnerable.