Dinner in the Celestian castle was never just a meal. It was theater—sometimes comedy, sometimes farce, more often a slow-burn tragedy punctuated by awkward toasts and noble intrigue.
Lara had learned to navigate it with a warrior's patience and a pickpocket's lightness, but tonight, the tension felt different. Heavier. Less like fog, more like the moment before a thunderstorm.
The dining hall was dazzling as ever, all silver candelabras, mirrored walls, and the shimmer of summer roses trailing from crystal vases.
The long table gleamed with polished wood, laid with immaculate linen and gleaming porcelain. But the most important thing in the room wasn't the food. It was where everyone sat.
At the head, as always, was the Celestian Queen , regal, a portrait in white and gold, her crown more suggestion than command these days.
To her right, Sarisa, poised and calm, but Lara could read the exhaustion in her posture and the polite mask in her eyes.
Next to Sarisa sat Vaelen, exuding princely self-control with a side of self-aware charm, making quiet conversation with the Queen in flawless court dialect.
Elysia and Malvoria were opposite each other, the soft-spoken human queen and the demon sovereign, their daughter Kaelith wedged delightedly between them.
And Lara? She was at the far end of the table, between Aliyah bouncing with barely-suppressed energy and an empty chair, which Kaelith occasionally claimed, only to slip away to Malvoria's side or drop a fork for sport.
It left Lara feeling like a guest at her own life, which she supposed, wasn't far off the mark.
Dinner began with the ceremonial pouring of the wine—sun-gold for the Celestians, a deep red for Malvoria, water for the children.
Lara watched as the Queen nodded graciously at Vaelen, as if acknowledging his presence was the main event of the evening.
She found herself grinding her teeth and forced her hand flat against her thigh.
Conversation started politely—banalities about the coming harvest, news of a minor noble's wedding, a passing mention of the last bandit attack on the northern trade route.
Kaelith and Aliyah whispered together, faces alight with conspiracy, and Lara couldn't help but smile at their plotting.
She reached to squeeze Aliyah's hand under the table, and her daughter leaned into her, drawing a line in the sand with nothing more than a nudge.
"Malvoria, did you see the new rose beds in the east garden?" Elysia asked, turning to her wife.
Malvoria rolled her eyes. "I did, and so did every bee in the kingdom. I'm expecting honey tribute by sunrise." Kaelith giggled.
Vaelen smiled politely, cutting his food with surgeon's precision. "Your gardeners are quite gifted, Your Majesty. I've never seen such color."
The Queen's eyes lingered on him with a hint of approval, but her attention quickly drifted back to Sarisa.
"How are the wedding preparations coming along?" The question was posed lightly, but Lara could sense the intent beneath.
Sarisa lifted her glass, unruffled. "There's still much to decide, Mother. We've not set a date. For now, things are… progressing."
Lara watched Sarisa's profile, trying to read her. She thought of their talk earlier—of how Sarisa wanted to try, to find happiness, to share her burdens. For the hundredth time, Lara's chest tightened.
Vaelen's answer was gracious, practiced. "Whatever Lady Sarisa wishes will be perfect. I am happy to serve in whatever way best supports her—and the Crown."
Malvoria made a face so subtle only Lara could see it. Elysia, meanwhile, offered Sarisa a reassuring glance, a silent bridge over the frosty waters.
Aliyah tugged on Lara's sleeve. "Mama, when do we get dessert?"
Lara whispered back, "When all the adults finish pretending to like each other."
Aliyah smothered a laugh, earning them a stern look from the Queen.
Kaelith piped up—unable to resist the tension, as always. "Can we have the cherry tarts now, Grandmother?"
The Queen's smile was tight. "After the main course, Kaelith. Patience."
The meal continued—glazed fish, spiced greens, bread baked with sun-dried herbs.
Lara chewed methodically, pretending to listen as Vaelen discussed some obscure diplomatic issue.
Every so often, her gaze drifted back to Sarisa, who met her eyes once, briefly, then looked away.
It was Elysia who broke the monotony. "Kaelith, Aliyah, what have you been working on today? I heard rumors of a cherry fortress."
Kaelith sat up straight, face bright. "It's not just cherries! There's flowers, and sticks, and Aliyah is the general, and Lara is the dragon. But she doesn't breathe real fire. She just roars."
Aliyah nodded seriously. "And Aunt Malvoria helped us find the biggest stick for the flag."
Malvoria ruffled Aliyah's hair, grinning. "All in a day's work."
The Queen nodded, but the faintest smile flickered at the edge of her mouth.
Lara, emboldened by the break in formality, cleared her throat. "We're building defenses in case of bandit attack."
Vaelen offered a wry smile. "Then perhaps you should offer your services to the northern watch. Their walls could use such enthusiastic engineers."
The Queen seized the thread. "Indeed, Lara. Banditry has increased along the border, and our reports suggest they are growing bolder. I trust you have not grown too rusty from garden play?"
Lara stiffened, then forced a polite smile. "I keep my sword sharp, Your Majesty. I'm always ready."
The Queen's gaze was heavy, unreadable. "Good. Because you are to leave at dawn for the northern villages. There's a new group preying on merchants—a show of strength is required."
A hush swept the table. Even the children stilled.
Lara inclined her head, keeping her voice even. "Of course, Your Majesty. I'll see to it personally."
Aliyah clutched her sleeve. "Do you have to go?"
Lara squeezed her hand. "It's just a few days, little one. I'll be back before you know it. And you'll have Aunt Malvoria and Kaelith to keep you busy."
Kaelith pouted. "But who will be the dragon?"
Elysia answered softly, "Perhaps you'll have to be brave yourself for a while."
Malvoria's eyes met Lara's, full of understanding. "Leave some bandits for me, would you?"
Lara smirked. "No promises."
Sarisa had gone quiet. She picked at her food, not looking at Lara, not looking at anyone.
Vaelen, diplomatic to the end, nodded. "If you need support, I'll arrange for additional guards."
Lara shrugged. "I work best alone."
The rest of the meal passed in a haze. Dessert was brought out cherry tarts, as promised but Lara could hardly taste hers.
The children chattered, Elysia and Malvoria kept up a light, false cheer, and Vaelen charmed the Queen with talk of his homeland's traditions.
All the while, Lara's mind ran ahead to the road, to the sword at her hip, to the look on Sarisa's face when she realized Lara was leaving again.
When the meal ended, the Queen stood, her bearing final. "Lara, you'll depart at first light. Report to the watchtower before you go. We cannot afford any further embarrassment from these border thieves."
Lara bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."