Light crept softly into the royal chambers, diffusing through diaphanous curtains and gilding the room with a gentle, golden haze.
The early sun was warm and unhurried, as if determined to delay the world's demands for one morning longer.
Sarisa lay tangled in a cocoon of blankets, pressed securely against a solid, familiar warmth.
She registered the deep, even rhythm of a heartbeat beneath her cheek, the rise and fall of another's chest, the faint scent of leather and citrus and something inexplicably Lara.
The world was soft and peaceful, and for a precious few moments, Sarisa did not think of knives, crowns, or kingdoms. She simply breathed.
She did not remember moving in the night, but now her arm was thrown possessively around Lara's waist.
One of her legs , definitely hers was twined with Lara's, and she had buried her face into the crook of Lara's shoulder as if her life depended on it.
Lara's arm had found its way around Sarisa's back, holding her close, the touch protective even in sleep.
It was not until a small, conspiratorial snicker shattered the quiet that Sarisa's senses fully returned.
She blinked, stretching, and cracked one eye open. Across from her, perched on the very edge of the mattress like a cat preparing to pounce, was Aliyah.
Her red eyes sparkled with a mischievous light, and she was grinning from ear to ear, delighting in a secret only she possessed.
"Morning, sleepyheads," Aliyah chirped, her voice sing-song and just a little too loud.
Sarisa stiffened in a sleepy panic, trying to extract herself with something resembling dignity.
But it was too late—Lara's arm tightened reflexively, keeping Sarisa from falling off the bed, and Aliyah giggled again, kicking her heels.
Lara groaned, one eye barely opening. "Too early for this, imp."
"Oh, don't mind me," Aliyah said, utterly unrepentant. "I'm just admiring the view." She planted her chin on her fists, watching her mothers with a theatrical sigh. "You know, some people would say this is scandalous."
Sarisa sputtered, face flushing. "Aliyah!"
But Aliyah just beamed, swinging her legs. "You looked like you were gonna eat her, Mom. Is that why you didn't wake up when I poked you? I tried to see if you were alive."
"I was just—" Sarisa started, but found no dignified explanation.
Lara, ever the picture of restraint, snorted and pulled the blanket over her own face. "Ignore her. She's been spending too much time with Kaelith and Malvoria."
Aliyah stuck out her tongue. "Aunt Malvoria says cuddling is important for your mental health. She also says you're a grumpy lizard before you eat breakfast, Lara. Are you grumpy now?"
Sarisa could not help herself; laughter bubbled up in her chest, sudden and irrepressible. The tension of the previous night melted away as she caught Lara's mock glare and Aliyah's triumphant smile.
"Well," Sarisa said, gathering her composure, "I happen to agree with your aunt. Cuddling is very good for you. Especially after… well, especially after a day like yesterday." She reached out, ruffling Aliyah's wild hair.
"Did you sleep well?"
Aliyah nodded, sliding between her mothers with expert agility. "I did. I had a dream I was a dragon and I saved the castle from a giant jellybean monster. Then I woke up and saw you two hugging and thought maybe it was still a dream. Are you sure you're awake, Mom?"
Sarisa made a show of pinching her own arm. "I think so. But just in case—" She lunged, gathering Aliyah up and tickling her sides until the child shrieked with laughter. "Only real princesses can survive the morning tickle test."
Aliyah squealed, trying to squirm away but finding herself securely pinned between two adults who—despite all evidence—were not above a little morning chaos.
Lara finally emerged from beneath the blanket, hair mussed, eyes still half-lidded but mouth curving into a lazy grin. "This is what passes for royal discipline now?"
Aliyah crowed, "Yes! Because you're not the queen yet, Mom is! She gets to make the rules, right?"
Sarisa made a thoughtful sound, draping an arm over Aliyah's stomach. "Hmm. That means today the rule is: everyone must eat three pancakes at breakfast."
"Four!" Aliyah bargained.
"Deal," Lara said, stretching her arms overhead, the blanket slipping to reveal sculpted muscles and faded scars. "But only if you promise not to tell anyone about the cuddling."
Aliyah gasped, mock-offended. "But how will I brag to Kaelith? She's going to say her moms are the best, and I need evidence."
Sarisa couldn't help but smile, feeling a bright thread of gratitude wind through her heart. This, right here—this was what made every burden bearable.
Not the throne, not the crown, but the joy of waking up surrounded by those she loved most, safe and whole after the storm.
"Maybe just this once," Sarisa said, "it can be our secret. Deal?"
Aliyah's face split into a grin. "Secret! Promise!"
They lay there a moment longer, the three of them, limbs tangled, hair in disarray, hearts finally light.
Sarisa pressed a kiss to Aliyah's forehead, then—unable to help herself—turned and pressed another, softer kiss to Lara's cheek.
Lara froze, caught off guard, but recovered quickly enough to roll her eyes in mock dismay. "You're going to make me soft, princess."
Aliyah snickered, "Too late."
The sun was climbing higher now, dusting the room with warmth. Sarisa reluctantly disentangled herself from the heap of blankets and child, sliding to the edge of the bed and stretching with a luxurious sigh.
Aliyah bounced upright, full of energy, her earlier fear seemingly burned away by the light.
"Can I wear my red dress for breakfast? And can I have hot chocolate? And can we sit by the window so I can watch the birds?"
Sarisa smiled, smoothing Aliyah's hair. "Of course. You can have all three. And after breakfast, maybe we can go see the horses in the royal stables."
Aliyah shrieked with excitement and shot off the bed, racing for the wardrobe before Sarisa could change her mind.
Lara took her time sitting up, swinging her legs over the edge and planting her feet on the floor.
She glanced at Sarisa, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared amusement and something gentler—gratitude, maybe, or relief.
"Did you sleep well?" Lara asked quietly.
Sarisa considered, then nodded. "Surprisingly well. I think… I think I needed the reassurance." She hesitated, glancing away. "I'm glad you were there."
Lara's smile was softer now, her voice low. "Me too."
A sharp crash from the wardrobe announced that Aliyah had found her dress—by pulling half the contents onto the floor. "Oops!"
Sarisa winced, but Lara was already pushing to her feet, a resigned laugh in her throat. "I'll help her. You'd think she was raised by wolves."
Sarisa grinned. "No, just demons. There's a difference."
Lara shot her a wicked smile. "A very important difference."
They dressed quickly, working together to corral Aliyah's endless questions and last-minute demands—"Where's my sparkly hair ribbon? Can I bring my stuffed dragon? Why can't I have pancakes and waffles?"—until finally, they stood presentable enough to face the world.
As they made their way to the breakfast room, Aliyah darted ahead, skipping and twirling in her red dress, singing a nonsense song about dragons and pancakes.
Sarisa found herself laughing again, the sound as bright and fragile as new glass. The palace felt changed, somehow lighter, even in the wake of last night's terror.
Maybe it was the safety of the morning, or the simple magic of love holding off the darkness for just a while longer.
When they reached the doors to the breakfast hall, Sarisa paused, hand on Lara's arm. "Thank you," she said again, voice soft and private.
Lara just squeezed her hand, her own eyes bright. "Always, princess."
Aliyah poked her head out from behind the door, face smeared with chocolate already. "Are you coming or not? The pancakes are getting cold!"
Lara grinned, shaking her head. "Let's just go have breakfast."