Sleep did not come easily, not even with Aliyah's steady breathing as a comfort, not even with Sarisa sleeping a bare arm's reach away.
Lara lay in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the castle: the murmur of distant guards, the faint click of shoes in far corridors, the ever-present hush of night wind curling around marble and stone.
Every sound pressed itself against her raw nerves, making rest impossible.
She could still feel the weight of the attacker's arm in her hand, the blade so close to Sarisa's heart.
Even the warmth of Aliyah snuggled between her and Sarisa, hair mussed, small fingers curled into Lara's shirt was not enough to keep the day at bay.
Lara's body hummed with adrenaline, with the memory of danger, and above all, with restless questions that circled her mind like crows.
Careful not to disturb the sleeping pair, Lara slipped from the bed and padded barefoot across the soft rugs to the balcony.
The night air met her, cool and clean, banishing the warmth and sweat and tension of the day.
She stepped out into the dark, letting the wind tease her hair and the city lights glitter far below. Here, above the palace and its thousand worries, she could almost breathe again.
How did this happen? she wondered, fingers drumming absently on the balustrade.
The Celestian castle was supposed to be a fortress runes, wards, a small army of guards, every guest vetted and checked. It made no sense.
How could so many armed men slip through?
How had no one noticed the tension in the air, the hint of murder in the gaze of a servant or two?
And why Sarisa? She wasn't even queen yet. She was still, technically, a princess. She hadn't even made her final speech, hadn't worn the coronation crown.
If someone wanted to strike a blow at the Celestian realm, why not wait? What did they think killing Sarisa would do—bring down the world, throw the realms into chaos, or just shatter Lara personally?
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, fighting the urge to curse aloud. The balcony was small—barely enough space for two to stand side by side, lined with pale stone and draped in the shadow of a climbing rose vine.
Below, the city was quiet, the only sound the hush of wind and the distant lilt of a night bird.
With a sigh, Lara fished in her jacket pocket and pulled out a battered packet of cigarettes.
She stared at it, thumb tracing the edge, debating. She hadn't smoked in months Aliyah hated the smell, and Sarisa always wrinkled her nose in disapproval but tonight, she wanted something sharp to cut through the heaviness.
She was about to shake one free when a hand caught hers, gentle but firm. Lara jumped, startled, and turned to find Sarisa standing in the doorway, her white nightgown haloed by golden candlelight, hair tumbling down in moonlit waves.
Sarisa's voice was soft, but it carried a sting. "I thought you quit smoking."
Lara tried to muster a wry grin. "I did. Mostly. Except for nights when people try to stab you at your own party."
Sarisa's lips quirked, just a little. "You know Aliyah hates the smell. So do I."
Lara hesitated, then shrugged, tucking the cigarette away. "Fine. I'll find another way to self-destruct."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The wind tangled Sarisa's hair, and Lara saw—maybe for the first time the faint tremor in Sarisa's hands, the way her shoulders curled inward.
Not the posture of a queen-to-be, but of someone who had come face to face with death and was still finding her way back from the edge.
Lara leaned against the balustrade, her voice quiet. "Couldn't sleep?"
Sarisa shook her head, stepping out into the night. She wrapped her arms around herself, gazing over the city.
"Every time I close my eyes, I see it again. The knife, the faces, the noise. I think about what would have happened if you hadn't—" She broke off, voice catching. "It doesn't feel real. I keep waiting to wake up."
Lara's throat tightened. She wasn't good at these moments—she never had been. Words always failed her when it mattered most. But she tried, for Sarisa's sake. "It was real," she said softly. "But it's over now. You're here. Aliyah's safe. That's all that matters."
Sarisa shook her head. "You say that like it's simple. But it's not. Lara, we're supposed to be safe here. If someone could get so close to me, to Aliyah, what does that mean for the future?" She looked up, eyes shining with fear and guilt. "For her future?"
Lara swallowed, pushing down the urge to grab Sarisa and promise safety she couldn't guarantee. "We'll find out who did this. Malvoria won't rest until she has answers, and neither will I. You're not alone in this."
Sarisa's lips trembled. "I don't want to be afraid all the time."
"You don't have to be." Lara reached for her, hesitant, then let her hand fall. "You can lean on me, you know. I'm here. Even if you marry Vaelen, even if everything changes—I'm not going anywhere."
Sarisa's breath hitched. "I know. I just—" She rubbed her arms, staring out at the city. "I thought I was ready for all of this. For the crown, the court, the pressure. But I never thought I'd have to worry about someone coming for Aliyah. For you. I can handle the knives pointed at me, but not at you. Not at her."
Lara let that sit for a long moment, her own fear echoing in Sarisa's words. "You're not alone, Sarisa. We're in this together. You, me, Malvoria, everyone. Aliyah has a small army of people ready to burn the world down for her. You, too, by the way."
That drew a shaky laugh from Sarisa. "I know. I just—sometimes I wonder if I made everything worse. If I'd just—"
Lara cut her off, voice firm. "Don't even think it. You made things better. For all of us."
A silence settled, gentle and vulnerable. The city below seemed to draw a breath and hold it, listening. Sarisa looked up at Lara, her eyes full of questions—fear, gratitude, something else Lara couldn't quite name.
Lara spoke softly, "You're allowed to be scared, you know. It doesn't make you weak."
Sarisa's voice was barely a whisper. "You're never scared. Even in the middle of everything, you never look afraid."
Lara shook her head, a rueful smile ghosting her lips. "I was terrified. I always am, when it comes to you. That's how I know it matters."
Sarisa blinked, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Lara moved on instinct, stepping closer, gathering Sarisa into her arms.
Sarisa buried her face against Lara's shoulder, her breath hitching. Lara held her tightly, as if she could ward off every blade, every shadow, every curse the world might cast.
They stayed like that for a long while. Sarisa's fear shuddered out in slow, quiet sobs, her arms curling around Lara's waist. Lara rubbed slow circles across Sarisa's back, resting her chin atop that moonlit hair.
When Sarisa finally pulled away, she did so with a deep, shaky breath, as if she'd just surfaced from deep water.
"Thank you," she said, voice raw.
Lara brushed a strand of hair from Sarisa's cheek. "You never have to thank me for this. For being here."
Sarisa smiled, small and fragile, but real. "Just… don't go anywhere, all right?"
Lara smiled back, fierce and true. "Never."