Aliyah's red eyes locked onto hers with the unsettling intensity only small children and seasoned generals could muster.
Lara swallowed.
"I like your mom," she said slowly.
Aliyah's brow furrowed. "You like her?"
"Yes."
"You mean like, 'I like spiced tea,' or like 'I like dragons,' or like 'I like throwing people off rooftops when they're annoying?'"
"I don't like throwing people off rooftops."
Kaelith snorted. "You said that last week."
"That was Lazek. He had it coming."
Aliyah sat up. "You're avoiding the question."
"I'm not avoiding anything," Lara said, far too quickly for that to be true.
Aliyah tilted her head. "Then why are you making your guilty face?"
"I don't have a guilty face."
"You do," Kaelith said helpfully. "It's like your thinking face, but more twitchy."
Lara exhaled sharply through her nose and rubbed the back of her neck. This was supposed to be a peaceful afternoon.
A moment of fun, laughter, grass stains, and light corruption of sacred gardens.
But now her daughter was asking questions Lara had spent five years avoiding in the quiet corners of her own damn soul.
"I like your mom," Lara said again, firmer now. "She's... she's strong. Brave. Stubborn. She never gives up. She works harder than anyone I've ever known."
Aliyah listened carefully, expression unreadable.
Kaelith blinked. "That sounded a lot like the beginning of a love speech."
"It wasn't," Lara muttered.
"Just saying," Kaelith whispered.
Aliyah wasn't done. Not even close.
"Do you love her," she asked, eyes narrowing, "like Aunt Malvoria loves Aunt Elysia?"
Lara froze.
The air in the garden shifted. Even the hovering lanterns seemed to dim.
She stared at her daughter, then slowly looked toward Kaelith—who shrugged and said, "Yeah, that's a fair question."
That was the difference, wasn't it?
Malvoria and Elysia weren't subtle. They weren't vague. They'd never danced around anything. Their love was loud, embarrassing, overwhelming, and fierce. Kaelith was born from it. Their castle practically screamed it.
And now here was Aliyah, sharp as obsidian, asking if Lara felt the same kind of thing.
Lara looked down at her hands.
Did she?
She didn't know.
Maybe.
Sometimes.
Late at night, when Sarisa was humming softly to herself in the study, golden tattoos flickering with magic and exhaustion, Lara would catch herself watching. Listening. Wondering.
But love?
No.
She couldn't. She shouldn't. It was too complicated. Too dangerous. Too fragile.
"No," Lara said, and the word tasted like rust.
Kaelith blinked in surprise.
Aliyah's face didn't move for a second. Then she nodded slowly. "Okay."
Lara didn't know if that meant okay, I understand or okay, you're lying but I'll let it slide. Either way, it didn't feel like the right answer.
And then—
A quiet step on the grass behind her.
Too soft. Too precise.
Lara's spine stiffened just as a familiar voice spoke.
"I brought snacks."
Lara turned.
Sarisa stood at the edge of the garden, holding a silver tray stacked with starfruit slices, honey-drizzled pastries, and glasses of chilled berry water.
Her expression was unreadable. Composed, neutral. Perfect. Her moonlight hair drifted down her back like a cape. The gold tattoos on her arms shimmered faintly in the late sun.
Aliyah squeaked and ran over. "Snacks!"
Kaelith followed at high speed. "Is that the sweet stuff with the crunchy sugar?"
"Yes," Sarisa said. "But only if you don't burn down the palace today."
"Define burn," Kaelith said.
Sarisa didn't respond just handed them both plates, turned slightly, and held the tray toward Lara.
Lara took a glass, their fingers brushing.
The moment lasted half a second.
But Lara felt it. Like an arrow grazing skin.
Sarisa didn't say anything. Didn't ask what they were talking about. But the look in her eyes made Lara wonder if she'd heard enough.
Aliyah settled back on the grass with her snack, glancing at Lara, then at Sarisa, then at Kaelith. Something calculating moved behind her grin.
"I like it here," she said cheerfully.
"Since when?" Sarisa asked.
"Since snacks."
Kaelith nodded. "Food diplomacy."
Sarisa raised one elegant brow. "You both were conspiring to sneak into the training wing this morning."
"Allegedly," Kaelith said.
Sarisa sighed and handed Lara another pastry, like a quiet truce.
And yet…
That question still hung in the air.
Do you love her like Aunt Malvoria loves Mom?
Lara avoided Sarisa's eyes and took a bite.
The pastry was sweet.
But not enough to cover the strange taste in her mouth.