By the time food was finally served, Sarisa had danced with half the realm.
At least, that was how it felt.
She had danced with Lara again, properly this time, though "properly" became debatable whenever Lara's hand drifted lower than Celestian etiquette permitted.
She had danced with Aliyah, who took every step with fierce concentration. She had danced with Neris, who initially stared at the floor until Sarisa whispered that no one was grading him.
Kaelith had demanded three dances.
The first had been enthusiastic.
The second had involved spinning.
The third had ended with Kaelith collapsing dramatically across Sarisa's arms and announcing that royal life was exhausting.
Afterward came nobles, ambassadors, councilors, distant relations, military representatives, and one elderly dragon woman who danced beautifully but nearly crushed Sarisa's hand.
Through all of it, Lara had remained nearby.
Sometimes dancing. Sometimes drinking. Sometimes watching Sarisa with an expression that made her forget what a visiting diplomat had just said.
At one point, Sarisa caught Lara leaning against a pillar beside Raveth, both holding glasses of dark demon liquor.
Sarisa had crossed the room at once.
"How many has she had?" she asked Raveth.
Raveth examined Lara thoughtfully. "Enough to become honest, not enough to challenge furniture."
"I have not challenged furniture in months," Lara protested.
"You threatened a ceremonial chair last week," Sarisa reminded her.
"It was unstable."
"It was stationary."
"Suspicious."
Sarisa removed the glass from Lara's hand.
Lara looked wounded. "My wife is stealing from me."
"Your wife is ensuring you remain conscious for the cake."
"I could cut cake unconscious."
"No."
"With training."
"No."
Raveth nodded solemnly. "I would watch."
Sarisa left before either of them could turn it into a competition.
Eventually, servants opened the banquet tables.
The food arrived in waves.
Roasted vegetables glazed in moon-honey. Celestian fish wrapped in silver leaves. Demon-spiced meats cooked over red flame.
Crystal fruits that broke open to reveal sweet glowing centers. Breads shaped like stars and black roses. Small pastries filled with cream, berries, or something Malvoria claimed was "technically safe."
Sarisa did not ask what that meant.
She and Lara sat together at the central table, their hands frequently finding each other beneath it.
It should have been impossible to feel private in a room containing hundreds of guests.
Yet every time Lara leaned toward her to whisper some rude observation about court manners, the rest of the hall faded.
"That lord has been chewing the same bite for five minutes," Lara murmured.
Sarisa did not look.
"You are staring at people again."
"He looks frightened of the sauce."
"Perhaps he dislikes demon spices."
"He is sweating."
"Stop watching him."
"I think he may be dying."
"He is not dying."
"He has accepted death."
Sarisa covered her smile with her wineglass.
Across the table, Malvoria watched them.
"You two are sickening."
Lara looked at her. "You kissed Elysia in the temple entrance."
"That was different."
"How?"
"I looked elegant."
Elysia touched Malvoria's arm. "You nearly backed me into a flower arrangement."
"Elegantly."
Veylira drank her wine in silence.
Raveth reached for another bottle.
Aliyah ate with the calm precision of someone determined not to stain her white dress.
Neris sat beside her, watching the guests with fewer signs of unease now that most people had stopped bowing directly at him.
Kaelith, meanwhile, had somehow acquired four desserts before the main meal ended.
Elysia noticed the fourth.
"Kaelith."
Kaelith froze with a pastry halfway to her mouth.
"Yes?"
"How many have you eaten?"
Kaelith looked at the pastry.
Then at the three empty plates.
"Two."
Aliyah stared at her. "That is four."
"You did not see the first two."
"That does not make them disappear."
Kaelith shoved the remaining pastry into her mouth before anyone could confiscate it.
Lara watched with open admiration.
"Strategic."
Sarisa nudged her. "Do not encourage her."
"I said one word."
"You said it approvingly."
"That is interpretation."
The meal stretched pleasantly through speeches, laughter, and repeated toasts.
The chief judge offered a formal blessing for the new reign.
A human ambassador welcomed Celestia's promised opening to other peoples.
A dragon envoy spoke for eleven minutes about shared prosperity and then breathed smoke into her own wine.
Malvoria gave a speech that began emotionally, became insulting, and ended with a threat against anyone who mistreated either bride.
Elysia quietly removed the wineglass from her hand afterward.
Then the lights dimmed.
A servant struck a silver chime.
The doors at the far end of the hall opened.
The wedding cake entered.
Sarisa stared.
The cake was enormous.
Not tall.
Architectural.
It had seven tiers, each decorated with a different symbol from their lives. Silver constellations covered the upper layers. Red sugar flames curved around the lower ones.
Tiny figures represented the Demon Palace, the Celestian moon arch, Lara's hidden house, and even the border hall where Marena's crimes had been revealed.
Near the top stood two small sugar figures.
One wore white.
One wore black.
They were holding swords.
Sarisa turned slowly toward Lara.
"Did you approve the swords?"
Lara looked innocent. "No."
Malvoria called from behind them, "I did."
"Why do our cake figures have weapons?" Sarisa asked.
"In case the marriage becomes hostile."
Lara nodded thoughtfully. "Practical."
Sarisa sighed.
The cake was rolled to the center of the hall while guests gathered around the dance floor. A ceremonial knife waited beside it, silver-bladed with a dark-red handle.
Lara stood and offered Sarisa her hand.
"My queen."
Sarisa took it.
"My trouble."
Together they approached the cake beneath applause.
The baker bowed so deeply Sarisa worried she might never rise again.
"Your Majesties," she said, voice trembling with pride. "The first cut belongs to you."
Lara picked up the knife.
Sarisa placed her hand over Lara's.
They stood close together before the lowest tier.
"Ready?" Lara whispered.
"Yes."
"Are you certain?"
"It is cake, Lara."
"I have been told this moment is symbolic."
"You were also told not to bring a weapon."
"This knife is larger than some of mine."
"It is ceremonial."
"Still useful."
Sarisa gave her a look.
Lara behaved.
They pressed the blade into the cake together.
The room applauded again as they removed the first neat slice and placed it on a small silver plate.
A servant offered two forks.
Lara took one.
Sarisa took the other.
Tradition required each bride to feed the other a bite.
Simple.
Elegant.
Harmless.
Sarisa should have known better.
She lifted a small piece of cake toward Lara.
Lara opened her mouth obediently.
Sarisa fed it to her.
Lara chewed.
Her eyes widened.
"That is good."
"Do not sound surprised."
"Most ceremonial food tastes like decorated curtains."
The baker looked offended.
Lara noticed.
"This does not," she added quickly. "This tastes excellent."
The baker relaxed.
Then Lara lifted a bite for Sarisa.
Sarisa leaned forward.
Lara fed her carefully.
The cake was soft, layered with vanilla cream, moonberries, and a faint smoky sweetness from demon fire sugar.
Sarisa smiled.
"It is wonderful."
Lara's expression softened.
For a moment, she looked so tender that Sarisa forgot to be suspicious.
That was her mistake.
Lara took a little cream from the edge of the slice with one finger.
Sarisa saw it too late.
Lara smeared it across Sarisa's cheek.
The hall gasped.
Then laughed.
Sarisa froze.
Lara stared at the white streak on her face.
Her smile became enormous.
"There," she said. "Now you match the cake."
Sarisa slowly turned her head.
"You put cake on the face of the Queen of Celestia."
"My wife first."
"Lara."
"It was a small amount."
Sarisa looked down at the remaining slice.
Lara's confidence faltered.
"My love."
Sarisa set down her fork.
"My beautiful wife."
Sarisa reached toward the cake.
Lara took a cautious step backward.
"Let us discuss proportional retaliation."
Sarisa took an entire handful from the side of the slice.
Lara's eyes widened.
"Sarisa."
The guests began cheering.
Malvoria shouted, "Do it!"
Raveth slapped the table.
Veylira closed her eyes as though separating herself legally from the event.
Lara raised both hands. "We are rulers now."
"You began this."
"With one finger."
Sarisa stepped closer.
Lara glanced left.
Blocked by guests.
Right.
Blocked by Malvoria, who looked delighted to assist in the destruction of her sister.
Lara attempted diplomacy.
"I love you."
Sarisa pressed the handful of cake directly into her face.
The hall exploded.
Cream covered Lara's cheek, nose, and part of her newly cut hair. A piece of moonberry slid down the collar of her immaculate black jacket.
For one perfect moment, Lara stood completely still.
Sarisa looked at her.
Lara blinked.
Cake fell from one eyebrow.
"You used too much," she said.
Sarisa smiled sweetly. "Proportional retaliation."
"That was not proportional."
"You insulted the crown."
"I decorated it."
Sarisa began laughing.
She could not stop.
Lara looked ridiculous. Beautiful, emotional, perfectly dressed, crowned, and covered in cake.
Lara wiped a little cream from her face.
Sarisa backed away.
"No."
Lara smiled.
That smile contained danger.
Sarisa gathered her skirt and tried to retreat.
Lara caught her around the waist.
The guests roared with approval.
"Lara," Sarisa warned, laughing as she struggled uselessly.
"You missed a spot."
"I did not."
Lara pressed her cake-covered cheek against Sarisa's clean one.
Sarisa shrieked.
Lara laughed into her hair.
When they separated, both their faces were covered in cream, their dignity thoroughly dead.
Aliyah stared at them.
"You are supposed to be queens."
"Only one of us is the queen," Lara said.
Sarisa wiped cake across Lara's forehead.
"Both of us are idiots."
Kaelith climbed onto a chair and pointed toward the untouched cake.
"Can we start throwing it now?"
"No!" half the room shouted.