Petra stepped forward with the smooth professionalism of a woman who had been Bellatrix's servant long enough to recognize when her queen was buffering.
"Yes, Princess. She had them prepared for you both."
Serena moved. Fast. Before Bellatrix could prepare, before Petra could intercept, before the queen's personal space perimeter could activate its defense systems, Serena crossed the three feet between them and hugged her.
Bellatrix went rigid.
Board-stiff. Every muscle locked. Her arms stayed at her sides. Her chin lifted above Serena's head. Her spine became a column of compressed resistance, a woman whose body was receiving physical affection from her daughter-in-law and whose body's response was the physical equivalent of a computer encountering a file type it had never been programmed to open.
Elara hugged her too.
