Lara stayed where she was after Malvoria disappeared with the children, though every instinct in her wanted to pace. The garden suddenly felt too quiet without Kaelith's running commentary or Aliyah's dramatic questions.
The late afternoon light stretched long over the grass, making everything softer than it had any right to be, and Sarisa stood in the middle of it looking like the sort of problem Lara would gladly ruin her life for.
She hated that the atmosphere felt strange.
Not bad, not cold, but strange.
Lara shoved her hands into her pockets. "So."
Sarisa's mouth twitched. "So."
Lara nodded once, because apparently she had forgotten how conversations worked. "How was the date?"
The question tasted worse leaving her mouth than it had in her head. She tried to keep her tone flat, casual, like it was something she asked every day. She failed. She knew she failed because Sarisa's brows lifted just a fraction.
"It was…" Sarisa hesitated, looking away toward the path, "fine."
Lara immediately hated the word.
Fine was dangerous. Fine could mean pleasant. Fine could mean tolerable. Fine could mean he held your hand and you let him.
Fine could mean he smiled at you in the sunlight and you started imagining wedding flowers instead of escape routes.
She forced her shoulders to stay loose. "Fine is not exactly glowing praise."
Sarisa laughed softly, but there was no real amusement in it. "No. It isn't."
Lara studied her face. "What did he do?"
"Nothing wrong," Sarisa said quickly, and that somehow made it worse. "He was kind. Thoughtful. He arranged tea in the village and took me walking through the orchards. He bought me candied fruit from a market stall because I looked at it twice."
Lara made a noncommittal sound, though inwardly she thought that buying candied fruit for Sarisa because she looked at it twice was the sort of thing a man did when he wanted to be loved for noticing details.
Sarisa went on, quieter now. "He held my hand."
There it was.
Lara's jaw tightened before she could stop it. She tilted her head back to look at the sky for one treacherous second, then made herself look at Sarisa again. "And?"
Sarisa's eyes met hers, steady and careful. "And it was polite."
Lara blinked. "Polite?"
"Yes."
Lara let out a short breath that was almost a laugh. "That sounds terrible."
"It wasn't terrible," Sarisa protested, though the protest lacked conviction. "It was nice. He was trying. He always tries."
Lara nodded slowly. "Right."
Sarisa crossed her arms. "You can say it."
"I'm trying very hard not to."
"That's not reassuring."
Lara dragged a hand down her face. "Look, I'm not going to sit here and pretend Vaelen is awful just because I don't like the idea of him taking you on orchard walks. He's not awful. He's…" She searched for a word she wouldn't regret. "Decent."
Sarisa gave her a look. "Decent."
"It's a compliment."
"It sounds like a word people use when they can't think of anything else nice to say."
Lara snorted. "Fine. He's kind, patient, good with public manners, unlikely to stab anyone at a banquet. Very impressive qualities."
"You forgot attentive."
Lara's mouth flattened. "I did not forget attentive. I'm choosing not to praise him too enthusiastically because I'm still trying to be a good person."
That got a real laugh out of Sarisa, warmer this time. The strange edge in the air eased a little.
Lara stepped closer, just enough to catch the faint scent of perfume and fresh air clinging to Sarisa's skin. "Did you enjoy it?"
Sarisa looked down at her own hands for a moment before answering. "I wanted to. That's the worst part."
Lara went still.
"He did everything right," Sarisa said. "He was sweet. He tried to make me comfortable. He listened when I spoke. He looked at me like I was something precious. And I kept thinking…" She broke off and laughed once, but there was frustration in it. "I kept thinking how bored I was."
Lara stared at her.
Sarisa glanced up. "That was horrible, wasn't it?"
"No," Lara said, too quickly. Then, because she was trying and because Sarisa deserved honesty, she added, "Maybe a little for him. But not for me."
Sarisa's lips curved. "Selfish."
"Very."
A breeze moved through the garden, stirring the flowers and the loose strands of Sarisa's hair. Lara wanted to tuck them back.
She wanted to do a dozen things she absolutely should not do in the middle of the palace grounds while children and servants and possibly the queen herself could appear at any second.
Instead she said, "So he held your hand and bought you fruit and was decent."
"And kind," Sarisa reminded her.
"And kind," Lara echoed dutifully. "Did he kiss you?"
Sarisa's answer came without hesitation. "No."
The relief that went through Lara was so immediate and so intense it almost embarrassed her. She looked away for a second, composing herself.
Sarisa noticed. Of course she noticed. "You really hate this."
Lara exhaled through her nose. "I hate a lot of things. Celestian council meetings. Raveth's right hook. the way Malvoria says the word fiancé like she's doing it for fun." She paused. "I especially hate the idea of someone else touching you like they have the right."
The words hung there, exposed and reckless.
Sarisa did not move, but her whole face softened. "Lara."
Lara shook her head once, already regretting the honesty, already wanting to say something lighter and less dangerous. "Forget it."
"No."
Lara looked at her.
Sarisa stepped closer. "I didn't like it."
"The date?"
"The pretending." Her voice dropped. "The pretending that what I'm supposed to want is enough."
Lara's heart kicked hard against her ribs. She could hear the distant laughter of the children, the rustle of leaves, the faint sound of footsteps somewhere far off in the palace, but all of it faded beneath the weight of that confession.
She reached up before she could think better of it and touched the side of Sarisa's face. Her thumb brushed just below her cheekbone. "Sarisa…"
Sarisa leaned into the touch in that quiet, devastating way she had, like she was doing it without permission and couldn't help herself. "You asked how it went," she murmured. "It was nice."
Lara gave a crooked smile. "That bad, huh?"
Sarisa's answering smile was small and sad and unbearably fond. "That empty."
Something in Lara gave way.
She kissed her.
It was not careful. It was not polite. It was not anything like an orchard walk. Lara's hand slid into Sarisa's hair, holding her there as Sarisa made the smallest sound against her mouth and stepped closer, one hand gripping the front of Lara's shirt like she meant to keep her.
For a few perfect seconds, Lara forgot where they were. Forgot the garden, the palace, the possibility of being seen. There was only Sarisa, soft and warm and kissing her back like this was the answer to a question they had both been avoiding for too long.
Then Lara pulled back first, breathing harder than she should have been from a single kiss.
Sarisa blinked at her, dazed and lovely and a little offended by the interruption.
Lara pressed her forehead briefly to Sarisa's and forced herself to think. "Not here," she said, voice rough. "We could be seen. Let's go to your room."