Sometimes, Lara reflected, there were battles you could never win—not on a field of mud and blood, not with a sword, not even with fire in your veins.
Sometimes, the most dangerous battlefield was a little-used side lounge in the Celestian palace, a carafe of demon-wine on the table, and Malvoria perched across from you like a cat who'd eaten the entire royal aviary.
The world was quiet for the first time in days. Kaelith and Aliyah were off being menaces under Elysia's suspiciously lenient watch; Sarisa was in the library, probably already buried in the pile of reports left by the queen's nervous staff.
Lara, for once, was not on guard, not on duty, not pretending to be anything but tired and loose and thoroughly, thoroughly content.
She tipped the last of her drink into her mouth—liquid fire, nothing like the weak Celestian vintages—and let her head fall back on the plush settee, eyes closing. "Gods, that's good. I needed this."
Malvoria grinned. She'd brought her own bottle, of course—something so dark and potent it seemed to shimmer in the glass.
"Careful, General. Wouldn't want you to lose your edge. You'll get soft if you let your guard down too long."
Lara snorted. "As if you're not half-melted yourself. Haven't seen you this relaxed since your wedding aniversary."
That got a rare laugh, deep and delighted. "Touché." Malvoria poured herself another finger, eyes dancing. "So…you and Sarisa. The south agreed with you. Or was it just the beds?"
The look she gave Lara was positively feral—knowing, curious, and just a little bit wicked.
Lara blinked, wary. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Malvoria put a hand to her chest, mock-innocent. "Oh, nothing! Just that Elysia and I are, shall we say, invested in your romantic success. I hope you found our little gift useful."
Lara's mind whirred. "What—" She froze. "You mean the—wait. The condoms?"
Malvoria cackled. "Took you long enough! Yes, the magic condoms. My darling wife's greatest invention. Well, mine too. We collaborated. Only the best for my favorite general and my favorite ice princess."
Lara groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're insane. Absolutely unhinged."
"Oh, just wait. The best part is—they're enchanted for tracking. Subtle, of course. Completely discreet. But the magic changes color for a few hours after use. It's how Elysia keeps score—purely for scientific research, of course."
Lara choked on her wine. "You're joking. Please tell me you're joking."
"Not even a little bit." Malvoria leaned forward, grinning. "And let's see—if you took the whole box, that would be…thirty per box, right? How many boxes did Elysia give Sarisa?"
Lara coughed, looking away. "Just one."
Malvoria's eyes went wide. "Just one? You were gone seven days. And the box is—empty?"
Lara tried to look offended. "Are you counting my sex life now, Mal?"
"Counting, analyzing, graphing—call it what you want. I'm impressed." Malvoria refilled their glasses, shaking her head in wonder. "Truly, you two are setting records. Elysia and I would need two months to finish a box, even if we tried."
Lara found herself laughing, cheeks hot. "We didn't—look, it wasn't planned. It just…happened."
"Oh, it happened, all right. And kept happening." Malvoria grinned, voice dropping to a stage whisper. "Tell me. How did you manage it? Did you ration, or was it a glorious free-for-all?"
Lara let her head fall to the table, groaning. "You're enjoying this way too much."
Malvoria shrugged. "What can I say? I like to see my family happy. And exhausted, apparently. But be honest—did you ever consider pacing yourselves?"
"We thought about it. Once. For about five minutes." Lara couldn't help it; the memory made her smile. "Then Sarisa looked at me the way she does and—well. The rest is history."
Malvoria raised her glass. "To history. And to the bravest little box of condoms in the world, may it rest in pieces."
They clinked glasses, and Lara drank deep, letting the laughter burn away the last of her embarrassment.
For a moment, she was just herself again—Lara, daughter of chaos, beloved menace of the demon realm, lucky fool who had somehow gotten the girl.
Malvoria leaned back, stretching her long legs. "So. Are you going to need a restock? I can send twenty boxes to your room by morning. Or maybe you want something with extra stamina enchantments this time?"
Lara spluttered, nearly spilling her drink. "Gods, Mal, no! I don't need a restock."
"Don't lie to me. You're going to run out again in three days at this rate. Besides, it's for the kingdom's safety! Do you really want to risk a royal scandal? Or another little demon-Celestian running around?"
Lara tried to look stern, but she couldn't help laughing. "You're insane."
"Says the woman who emptied a box in less than a week. That's not normal, Lara, even for you. Her poor fiancé was here waiting, you know."
Lara froze, suddenly sober. "That's not funny, Mal."
Malvoria softened, but only a little. "I'm joking. Mostly. But seriously, what's the plan there? Sarisa can't marry Vaelen if she keeps ending up in your bed every time she leaves the city. Even Elysia noticed the aura of magic condoms following you two. I'd be careful."
Lara ran a hand through her hair, sobering. "I don't know. We haven't talked about it. We said we'd keep it a secret for now. Aliyah's too young for a scandal, and the queen would…well, you know."
Malvoria studied her, expression unusually gentle. "Are you scared, Lara?"
"Terrified." Lara looked at the dregs of her drink. "This—us—it's the best thing I've ever had. And it's also the riskiest. I don't want to lose it, but I don't want to ruin Sarisa's life, either."
"You won't," Malvoria said, and for once there was no laughter in her voice. "You couldn't, even if you tried."
For a while they sat in companionable silence, letting the weight of the world settle around them. Then, inevitably, Malvoria perked up again, mischief back in her eyes.
"So, real talk: What was your record? Four times in one night? Five? Was it always Sarisa who started it, or—"
Lara groaned, tossing a cushion at her. "You're insufferable."
"I'm invested! For science!" Malvoria caught the pillow, hugging it to her chest. "Honestly, I'm proud of you. Who knew you had it in you, General?"
"Don't you have a wife to bother?" Lara grumbled, but there was no heat in it.
"She's with the kids. Reading them an epic poem about the merits of flossing. I have a window of freedom." Malvoria waggled her eyebrows. "So, anything you want to confess? Any new techniques you want to share?"
Lara laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink again. "You are the worst. No, I will not share techniques."
"Not even for a new box of condoms?"
"Definitely not."
Malvoria made a show of sighing. "Fine. But don't say I didn't offer. And I'm sending you a box anyway. Just in case. The kingdom cannot survive another royal pregnancy just yet."
Lara felt a wave of affection, sharp and unexpected. "Thanks, Mal. Really."
Malvoria reached over, clinking her glass against Lara's one last time. "Anytime. And if you need advice on how to seduce a Celestian, you know where to find me. Spoiler alert: the trick is fire. Lots and lots of fire."
They both laughed, the sound echoing through the empty hall.
Just before they parted, Malvoria leaned in, conspiratorial. "Seriously, though. If you ever want to talk about the fiancé, about Sarisa—about any of it—I'm here. Or if you just need someone to drink with and not talk about feelings, I can do that too."
Lara smiled, genuinely. "Thanks, Mal. I'll keep that in mind."
Malvoria stood, stretching. "Good. Now go get some sleep. You look like death warmed over. If Sarisa finds out you're still up, she'll kill me."
Lara grinned, rising as well. "She'd have to get through me first."
Malvoria arched an eyebrow. "Please. You'd just lie down and let her walk all over you."
"Maybe," Lara allowed, lips quirking. "But only if she asked nicely."
With a final, wicked grin, Malvoria swept from the room, her laughter trailing behind her like a comet's tail.
Lara lingered a moment longer, watching the fire flicker in the hearth, feeling a strange peace settle over her.