Breakfast had no right to look so peaceful.
That was Sarisa's first thought as she sat at the small terrace table overlooking the inner gardens, sunlight glimmering off the tea set, the morning air soft with jasmine and the sound of children laughing in the distance.
Aliyah and Kaelith had dragged half a basket of pastries into the grass and were now building what appeared to be a fortress out of cushions, bread rolls, and total nonsense.
Elysia sat nearby under the shade of a flowering tree, one elegant leg crossed over the other, pretending to read while actually watching the girls with the kind of serene alertness only mothers and assassins managed.
And yet all Sarisa could think about was Lara.
Lara in chains.
Lara waking up cold and bruised on dungeon stone. Lara, who hated enclosed spaces and being powerless more than almost anything.
Lara, who would pretend she was fine until her voice cracked around the edges and gave her away. The image had lodged itself behind Sarisa's ribs and would not move.
She hadn't touched her tea. The steam had long since faded. One of the pastries sat broken in half on her plate, uneaten.
Elysia had tried once, gently, to nudge her into taking a bite. Sarisa had managed two mouthfuls and then given up.
The children, at least, were oblivious.
Kaelith had tied a napkin around her shoulders as a cape and was now declaring war on an invisible enemy in the roses.
Aliyah, sword fashioned from a long breadstick, kept shouting that the enemy had violated breakfast law and must be judged accordingly. Every now and then one of them looked over as if to make sure Sarisa was still there, then returned to chaos.
Sarisa envied them their simplicity.
She heard Malvoria before she saw her. There was always something unmistakable in the way she moved: not a sound, exactly, but a force.
Sarisa looked up just as the Demon Queen crossed onto the terrace, a tray balanced in one hand, her expression storm-dark and irritated.
She sat without asking permission, set the tray down with more force than strictly necessary, and exhaled through her nose.
"For the moment," Malvoria said without preamble, "I can't get Lara out."
Sarisa went cold all over again, though she'd expected no miracle. Still, hearing it aloud made it real in a new and uglier way.
Malvoria reached for the tea pot and poured herself a cup as if she hadn't just dropped a blade into the center of the morning.
"We have to wait for the audience. Which is bullshit, by the way. Entirely ceremonial, entirely political, entirely designed so your mother can gather a room full of old corpses in silk and pretend justice is being done."
Sarisa's hands tightened around each other beneath the table. "When?"
"Next week."
The words hit like a slap.
"Next week?" Sarisa repeated, voice low and strained. "She wants Lara in the dungeon for a week?"
Malvoria's mouth flattened. "That is apparently the plan, yes. Public anticipation. Let everyone talk. Let the rumors curdle. Let the court arrive already primed to see a dangerous demon instead of the woman who's saved half their lives."
Sarisa looked away, out toward the garden where Aliyah was now attempting to climb Kaelith's "fortress" and immediately falling off. Her daughter laughed as if the world was still gentle.
It took effort to speak evenly. "And you're sure there is nothing you can do before then?"
Malvoria leaned back in her chair, eyes sharp.
"There are things I can do. Most of them involve fire, diplomatic incidents, and your mother having a much worse morning than she planned. Elysia suggested I wait until we've exhausted the options that don't end in a war between the Celestian court and the demon realm."
"That was wise of me," Elysia called from the tree without looking up from her book.
"I hate when she's wise," Malvoria muttered.
Sarisa almost smiled, but the expression died before it fully formed. "What about Veylira?"
"On her way. Raveth too." Malvoria took a sip of tea and grimaced, probably because it wasn't alcoholic enough to meet her standards. "Your mother's going to regret making this a family matter. She just hasn't realized that yet."
That was some comfort. Not enough, but some.
Only then did Sarisa look properly at the tray Malvoria had brought. Bread. Fruit. Meat pie cut into manageable pieces. A cup with a lid to keep broth warm. Practical food. Dungeon food, if one were trying to disguise care as logistics.
Malvoria caught the direction of her gaze and clicked her tongue. "Before you ask, no, they didn't feed her. Not last night. Not this morning."
Something in Sarisa's chest twisted hard enough to make her sit up straighter.
Malvoria's expression turned ugly. "Apparently your mother is very committed to the aesthetics of punishment. Chains, no supper, no visitors unless approved. The full performance."
Sarisa heard herself say, very quietly, "She wasn't given food."
"No." Malvoria leaned one elbow on the table. "Which is why I came to steal breakfast for her. If anyone complains, I'm prepared to bite them."
Elysia turned a page. "That was not the order I suggested."
"It remains an option."
Sarisa looked at the tray again. At the cup of broth. At the rough-cut bread Lara would absolutely pretend was too stale and then eat anyway because she was starving and too proud to say so.
A muscle in her jaw ticked.
Across the lawn, Aliyah shouted, "Mama! Kaelith cheated! "
"I did not!" Kaelith yelled back. "No it's not true!"
Under any other circumstances, the sound might have made Sarisa laugh. Now it only made everything sharper.
Lara should have been here rolling her eyes at them, not locked underground like some beast the court wanted out of sight until it could decide whether to cage her forever.
Malvoria followed Sarisa's gaze and softened, just a little. "I know."
Sarisa blinked. "Know what?"
"That face." Malvoria gestured vaguely at her. "The one where you're trying very hard not to set the table on fire."
Sarisa inhaled slowly. "If I go to her now, my mother will know."
"Your mother already knows." Malvoria's tone was dry. "She may not know everything, but she knows enough to be cruel."
That was true. It sat heavily between them.
"She also wants you visible today," Elysia added from her tree. "Calm. Dutiful. Present. It strengthens her version of events if you behave like nothing is wrong."
Sarisa turned toward her. "And what if I don't feel like helping her lie?"
Elysia finally lowered the book. "Then don't. But choose your rebellion carefully."
Malvoria pushed the tray slightly toward Sarisa. "Which is why I was going to take this down myself. Less dramatic. Fewer witnesses. Better chance of not starting a riot before lunch."
Sarisa looked at the food. Then at Malvoria. Then back toward the lawn where Aliyah had successfully tackled Kaelith into the flowers.
She thought of Lara alone in the cell. Hungry. Bruised. Furious. Waiting.
"No," Sarisa said.
Malvoria stilled.
Sarisa reached forward and put her hand on the tray.
"Just let me do it," she said. "I will bring food to Lara."