The sun was crossing its peak outside the window, smudging the marble floor with honey-colored light. Sarisa leaned back in her chair, rolling the tension out of her neck.
The stack of paperwork was blessedly thinner—Vaelen's comedic scribing had done the impossible, leaving the office lighter, almost hospitable.
She paused, glancing at the final few documents, tempted to finish them. Just one more signature, she told herself.
A knock, gentle but purposeful, interrupted her.
She straightened, gathering her composure. "Yes?"
The door opened with a quiet swish. Elysia entered, a vision of effortless regality: silver-white hair cascading over one shoulder, violet eyes that seemed to glow with inner laughter, dressed in a pale lavender robe.
Even in the sober halls of the Celestian castle, Elysia radiated a warmth that threatened to turn solemnity into play.
Sarisa's smile bloomed. "You're a welcome sight."
Elysia beamed. "And you, my friend, are overdue for a break." She shut the door behind her, eyes twinkling. "How many hours have you been entombed in here?"
Sarisa huffed, feigning outrage. "Only since sunrise. The paperwork waits for no queen."
"Let it wait." Elysia crossed to her, grasped Sarisa's hand, and pulled her up. "You're coming with me for tea. The world can survive one hour without your signature."
Sarisa surrendered. Elysia always did have a way of sweeping people along like a spring tide.
Together, they slipped from the office, passed through sun-dappled corridors, and soon emerged into the palace's south tea room.
It was a tranquil, airy space—walls draped with trailing vines, pale velvet chairs set around marble tables, soft music thrumming from a distant harp.
Beyond the windows, the garden unfurled in neat rows of roses, a few petals drifting lazily in the breeze. Here, the noise of the court faded to nothing; here, friendship could be simple.
Elysia poured tea, her movements practiced, precise. "Kaelith and Aliyah are with Malvoria and Lara, building an empire of cherry pits. We have a brief reprieve from chaos."
Sarisa smiled. "They'll come storming back soon enough."
Elysia rolled her eyes, delighted. "Gods, Kaelith never stops. Last week she tried to teach Aliyah how to ride a stray peacock."
"She what?" Sarisa nearly spilled her tea.
"Don't worry, the peacock was faster than both of them. But you should have seen the chase—Kaelith had that look, the one that says 'I am Empress of All Things Feathery, bow before me or be pecked.'" Elysia laughed. "Aliyah only joined because she thought it was a prank."
Sarisa shook her head in mock despair. "That girl is relentless. Every time I blink she's in a tree or halfway up a tapestry."
Elysia leaned in, conspiratorial. "At least yours isn't breathing sparks in her sleep. Kaelith set her pillow on fire last week—again."
A helpless giggle escaped Sarisa. "I thought that was just a rumor."
"I wish." Elysia sipped her tea, rueful. "Malvoria blames me for spoiling her. Says I give in too easily. Meanwhile, Malvoria is the one teaching her to curse in ancient Demonese."
"I noticed Aliyah muttering something during breakfast. It sounded suspiciously like an insult about my 'puny angel wings.'"
Elysia clapped her hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking. "That was definitely Malvoria. She's got a list."
For a moment they simply laughed, letting the tension of politics and parenthood slip away.
When they'd caught their breath, Sarisa regarded Elysia over the rim of her cup, her smile lingering. "How do you manage it all? Queen, mother, wife. You always seem so… at ease."
Elysia's violet eyes softened. "I'm not, most days. But I have help. Malvoria, the staff, Kaelith's endless horde of admirers—there are days I want to hide in the library with a book and earplugs." She paused a moment.
"But then Kaelith comes barreling in, fire and all, and reminds me why it's worth it." She tilted her head, searching Sarisa's face. "What about you? How are things, really, with Aliyah? And with Kaelith here?"
Sarisa breathed in the fragrant steam. "Good. Better than I expected. Aliyah is… herself. Wild, clever, a little chaos engine with more heart than sense. She misses Kaelith when she's gone. They balance each other in ways I never could."
Elysia smiled, warmth and a trace of envy in her expression. "They really are best friends. I see Kaelith coming home with new bruises and stories, always about Aliyah."
Sarisa allowed herself a rare, soft smile. "They'll grow up thinking this is normal, won't they? Running between castles, mixing fire and chain magic, learning three languages before breakfast."
"It's not normal," Elysia said, "but it's beautiful. And they're happy."
For a few moments, the only sound was the quiet clink of spoons and the birds beyond the window.
Elysia topped off their cups, gaze thoughtful. "And what about you? I heard the announcement." Her tone was gentle, never intrusive. "How are you feeling about… the future wedding?"
Sarisa didn't answer at once. She set down her tea, fingers tracing the delicate porcelain pattern. She looked out the window, watching a pair of robins wrestle with a petal.
"I want to try," Sarisa said, and her voice was honest, not defensive.
"Vaelen is… good. Patient. He makes me laugh, and he doesn't flinch at the idea of helping raise Aliyah. It would be nice, I think, to have someone who sees all of this—"
She gestured, meaning the castle, the burden, the uncertainty, "—and wants to share it. I've been alone for a long time."
Elysia's expression was knowing. "Is that all you want? A partner, someone to share the weight?"
Sarisa's smile wavered, then steadied. "It's more than that. I want to try being happy. I want to give Aliyah a home where she doesn't hear court whispers about her parentage every time she walks down the hall."
Elysia nodded, her voice gentle. "You deserve that. She deserves that."
The conversation ebbed for a moment. They sipped their tea, watching the sun shift across the marble.
Elysia spoke again, quieter now. "And Lara?"
Sarisa's hand stilled on her cup. She didn't look away, but her shoulders tensed just enough to betray the effort of answering.
"Lara is… Lara," Sarisa said, half a smile curling her lips. "She's stubborn and brave and infuriating. She loves Aliyah, even if she doesn't say it enough. We're good co-parents. Friends, sometimes. But we're not—" She hesitated, weighing honesty. "We're not together. Not like that."
Elysia considered her words carefully. "But do you want to be?"
Sarisa's eyes fell to her lap. "I used to. I tried. But you can't force someone to choose you. And waiting hurts more than moving forward. So I'm moving forward."
Elysia reached across the table, placing a gentle hand over Sarisa's. "You're braver than you think, Sarisa. Some people wait forever, hoping someone else will be brave first."
Sarisa let herself hold Elysia's gaze, grateful for the quiet understanding in those violet eyes. "Are you saying I'm reckless?"
Elysia grinned. "I'm saying you're living. And that's more than most."
They both laughed, the moment lightening again.
The tea was nearly gone. Sunlight had shifted, painting gold over Elysia's silver hair, making her seem almost ethereal.
Elysia straightened, a playful glint in her eye. "You know, if the wedding's a disaster, you can always run away to the demon realm. Malvoria owes you a favor. Or five."
Sarisa snorted. "I'll keep that in mind."
As they stood to leave, Elysia pulled her into a hug—strong, real, the kind that banished isolation for a heartbeat.
"You're not alone," Elysia murmured.
Sarisa hugged back, her eyes prickling. "I know. Thank you."