The next morning began with mist against the mountain grass, Sarisa's cold nose pressed into Lara's neck, and Lara discovering that sleeping under the stars was romantic until one had to untangle two grown women from blankets, cloaks, furs, and a dignity that had been left somewhere near midnight.
They returned to the hidden house just after dawn, both sleepy, wind-touched, and quiet in the way people became after a night full of stars and dangerous dreams of the future.
Lara lit the stove while Sarisa showered first, and when Sarisa came back with damp silver hair and Lara's shirt hanging loosely from one shoulder, breakfast was almost ruined for entirely different reasons than the last time.
Almost.
Lara managed eggs, toast, fruit, and juice while Sarisa stood behind her with her arms around Lara's waist, pressing kisses between her shoulder blades and claiming she was "helping morale."
"You are making it very hard to cook," Lara said, voice rough around sleep and laughter.
Sarisa kissed the back of her neck. "You said you work well under pressure."
"This is not pressure. This is sabotage."
"Romantic sabotage."
"Still sabotage."
They ate slowly. Too slowly, really, because every time Lara tried to stand, Sarisa caught her by the collar and pulled her back for another kiss.
By the time the dishes were cleared and both of them had dressed, the morning was no longer early, and Lara had the profound sense that Malvoria would make a comment about it before Lara even fully stepped into the castle.
Sarisa noticed the look on her face.
"What?" she asked, fastening the burgundy cloak over her traveling clothes.
"I'm preparing myself."
"For what?"
"My family."
Sarisa's mouth curved. "You love them."
"I do." Lara offered her hand. "But gods help us, they are a public disaster in private rooms."
Sarisa took her hand. "And you're not?"
"I am a private disaster in public rooms. There is a difference."
Sarisa laughed, and that was the sound Lara carried with her when she opened the teleportation circle.
The air folded around them in gold fire.
One blink, one breath, one familiar twist of magic, and the hidden house vanished.
Malvoria's castle appeared around them in black stone, gold light, and the faint scent of breakfast long finished.
They landed in the smaller receiving hall near the family wing, the one Malvoria preferred because it had fewer guards and more opportunities to frighten people informally.
Lara barely had time to steady Sarisa before four heads turned toward them.
Malvoria sat in a high-backed chair like a queen pretending she had not been waiting.
Elysia sat beside her, elegant and composed in deep green, her hands folded over a book that she had absolutely not been reading.
Raveth lounged against the table with a cup in one hand and an expression of immediate entertainment.
Veylira stood by the window, serene as a carved blade, silver eyes settling first on Lara, then Sarisa, then the visible edge of the mating mark at Sarisa's throat.
A silence bloomed.
Then Lara raised one hand.
"Hi, people. I didn't miss you, but it's nice seeing you."
Raveth laughed first.
Malvoria's mouth opened in delighted offense. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"I fed your child."
"You stole my child for political reasons."
"I protected my niece from the Celestian castle's decorative security failure."
"That too."
Elysia closed her book with a soft click. "Good morning, Lara. Sarisa."
"Good morning," Sarisa said, and Lara felt her hand tighten just slightly around hers.
Not fear.
Nerves.
The last time Sarisa had been in this castle, everything had been chaos, secrecy, exile, and stolen nights.
Now she stood beside Lara as her mate, wearing demon colors and carrying the mark openly enough that everyone in the room noticed and politely, or not politely, pretended not to stare.
Malvoria was the least polite.
Her eyes dropped directly to Sarisa's neck.
Then she grinned.
"Well," she said, "someone had a productive honeymoon."
Lara pointed at her. "Don't."
"I said nothing."
"You said everything."
Raveth leaned sideways to inspect the mark with shameless curiosity. "Nice placement."
Sarisa's cheeks warmed.
Lara stepped half in front of her. "Raveth."
"What? It is. Visible. Elegant. Threatening. Much better than Malvoria's attempt."
Elysia's head turned slowly toward Raveth.
Malvoria sat upright. "My attempt was passionate."
"Your mark placement was criminal," Raveth said.
Elysia lifted one hand. "We are not discussing this again."
Veylira, who had been silently enjoying the ruin of dignity, finally spoke. "The mark suits you, Sarisa."
Sarisa turned toward her, and something in her face softened. "Thank you."
Veylira inclined her head. "It is old magic. It chose well."
Lara felt that in her ribs.
She did not know what to do with it, so naturally she deflected.
"So," Lara said, looking around, "where are the tiny disasters?"
"Sleeping? Studying? Destroying something?" Malvoria waved one hand vaguely. "They move like weather. I stopped tracking them after breakfast."
Elysia gave her a look. "They are in the playroom."
"That too."
Lara stared. "You forgot where three children were?"
"I knew the general region."
"That is not parenting."
"That is delegation."
"Kaelith is going to overthrow you."
"She already has three times this week."
Before Lara could answer, small footsteps came pounding down the corridor.
Fast.
Determined.
The door burst open, and Aliyah appeared like a thrown spark.
Her hair was half-tied, half-free, her dress slightly crooked, and her face bright with the kind of joy that hit before words.
For one second she froze.
Then her eyes found Sarisa.
"Mama!"
Sarisa's whole face broke open.
Aliyah ran straight across the room and threw herself into Sarisa's arms with enough force that Lara instinctively stepped behind Sarisa to steady her.
Sarisa caught her daughter, lifting her up despite the sudden impact, one arm under her legs, the other tight around her back.
"My baby," Sarisa whispered.
Aliyah buried her face in Sarisa's neck. "You came back."
Sarisa closed her eyes.
The room went quiet.
Even Malvoria shut up, which was a rare and holy event.
Lara stood close, one hand resting lightly on Sarisa's back. Through the bond, she felt the sharp swell of emotion in Sarisa's chest, joy and guilt and relief tangled so tightly they almost hurt.
"I came back," Sarisa murmured into Aliyah's hair. "I'm here."
Aliyah pulled back just enough to look at her mother's face, then immediately frowned. Her eyes went to Sarisa's neck.
The mark.
Lara prepared herself.
Aliyah pointed. "What is that?"
Sarisa drew a breath.
Before she could answer, Malvoria leaned back in her chair and said, "That means your mama is now officially Lara's problem forever."
Lara turned. "Malvoria."
Aliyah blinked.
Then looked at Lara.
Then Sarisa.
Then the mark again.
"So Mama Sarisa married Mama Lara better?"
Raveth choked on her drink.
Elysia pressed a hand to her mouth.
Sarisa's face turned scarlet.
Lara, despite herself, grinned. "Yes."
Sarisa slapped her arm lightly. "Lara."
"What? She asked."
Aliyah considered this with grave seriousness, then nodded once. "Good. The ugly prince was bad."
Malvoria lifted a finger. "Correct."
Elysia murmured, "Do not encourage her."
"She is right," Malvoria said.
Aliyah wrapped her arms around Sarisa's neck again, satisfied. "I missed you."
Sarisa held her tighter. "I missed you too."
Lara looked at them, at Sarisa holding Aliyah like she had been starving for the shape of her child, and felt something inside her go painfully soft.