By midmorning, the palace had reached a dangerous conclusion.
Elira was calm.
This terrified everyone.
She walked through the halls smiling, hands clasped behind her back, humming cheerfully, wearing a bright blue dress that made several guards flinch simply because it meant she was experimenting with choices.
"I am practicing peace," Elira announced to no one in particular.
Aerin heard this and immediately put his tea down.
"Why does that sound like a threat?"
Mira, sitting across from him with documents spread neatly before her, didn't look up. "Because when Elira tries something new, there's usually a learning curve."
Across the room, Elira stopped in front of a suit of armor, tilted her head, and nodded.
"You look trustworthy," she told it.
Then she patted it.
The armor fell over.
Elira gasped. "I am so sorry."
The guard inside groaned.
Aerin rubbed his temples. "We're paying for damages, aren't we?"
"Yes," Mira said calmly. "But she apologized. That's growth."
Elira brightened and hurried back toward them.
"I did not stab," she announced proudly.
Aerin forced a smile. "Very good."
"I would like a task," Elira added. "I am a wife now. I should contribute."
Mira's pen paused.
Aerin hesitated.
This was a trap. He didn't know how, but it always was.
"What kind of task?" he asked carefully.
Elira clasped her hands excitedly. "Diplomacy."
Mira slowly set her pen down.
Aerin inhaled. "Absolutely not."
Elira's smile wavered. "But I am very honest."
"That's the problem."
Elira frowned. "Lying is inefficient."
"Yes," Aerin said gently. "But sometimes necessary."
Elira processed this.
"I do not like necessary lies," she decided. "They lead to betrayal."
Mira met Aerin's eyes.
"She's not wrong," she said.
Aerin groaned. "I hate when the assassin is morally correct."
Before he could object further, a herald burst into the room.
"Your Majesty," the man gasped, "the delegation from Geb has returned."
Aerin froze. "Already?"
"Yes. They brought… questions."
Elira beamed. "I will answer them."
"No," Aerin said instantly.
"They will appreciate clarity."
"No."
"They will appreciate fear."
"ELIRA—"
Too late.
She was already walking toward the council chamber at a pace that suggested enthusiasm, not murder.
Mira stood. "I'll come."
Aerin staggered to his feet. "We all come. Nobody leaves Elira unattended near foreign dignitaries."
The council chamber was full.
Again.
The Geb delegation sat stiffly at the table, flanked by Aquran ministers who all looked like they'd drawn the shortest possible straws.
The lead envoy from Geb pinched the bridge of his nose as Aerin entered.
"Your Majesty," he said tiredly, "before anything else—how many wives do you currently have?"
Aerin opened his mouth.
Elira answered.
"Three," she said brightly. "I am the newest."
The envoy closed his eyes.
"Of course you are."
Elira leaned forward. "I have changed."
The envoy flinched. "Changed from what?"
"From murder," Elira said helpfully.
Silence fell.
Aerin coughed. "She means… metaphorically."
"No," Elira said. "Literally."
One of the Geb envoys fainted.
Mira calmly snapped her fingers for water.
Elira frowned. "I should have eased him in."
Aerin leaned forward, hands raised. "Please, forgive us. My wife is… adjusting."
The envoy stared at him. "Which one?"
"Yes," Aerin said.
That was when Valessara entered.
She glided into the room like she owned it — because, legally, she almost did.
Her eyes flicked to Elira.
To Mira.
To Aerin.
And finally, to Cassian, who stood near the wall, rigid and silent.
Valessara smiled.
"I see the menagerie is complete," she said.
Elira bristled. "I am not a menagerie. I am a person."
Valessara tilted her head. "Are you?"
Elira's hand twitched.
Mira spoke immediately.
"Elira," she said calmly, "remember peace."
Elira inhaled sharply.
"I remember," she said through clenched teeth. "I am peaceful."
She turned back to the envoy, smiling too wide.
"Do you have concerns?"
The envoy swallowed. "Several."
Elira nodded. "List them."
"Your marriage laws are unstable."
Elira nodded. "Correct."
"Your court is unpredictable."
Elira nodded again. "Yes."
"And one of your queens chased a squirrel with a knife."
Elira's smile softened. "The squirrel started it."
Aerin buried his face in his hands.
Somehow, miraculously, the meeting ended without war.
Mostly because Mira took control.
She explained Aqura's legal framework.
She clarified the succession.
She smoothed egos and redirected blame.
Elira sat quietly, hands folded, nodding solemnly whenever Mira spoke.
At one point, she whispered to Aerin, "Mira is very strong."
Aerin whispered back, "Yes. Please learn from her."
Elira nodded seriously.
"I will try."
That should have been the end of it.
It was not.
The problem began in the courtyard.
A minor noble — drunk, bold, and catastrophically stupid — pointed at Elira and laughed.
"So that's the assassin wife," he sneered. "Do you stab your husband when he displeases you?"
The air went cold.
Elira turned slowly.
Her smile was gone.
"I do not stab my husband," she said calmly. "I love him."
The noble laughed harder. "Sure you do."
Aerin stepped forward. "That's enough—"
Elira raised a hand.
"I can handle this," she said.
She approached the noble slowly.
Too slowly.
Guards shifted nervously.
Mira's eyes sharpened.
Elira stopped an arm's length away.
"I have changed," she said quietly. "But you are testing me."
The noble scoffed. "Or what?"
Elira smiled.
A small smile.
"Or I will express my feelings."
Aerin rushed forward. "Elira—use words!"
"I am," she replied.
She leaned closer to the noble.
"Say it again," she said softly.
The noble hesitated.
Then laughed nervously. "You're bluffing."
Elira nodded. "Yes."
She turned away.
Everyone exhaled.
Then she added over her shoulder:
"But I am learning restraint, not mercy."
The noble ran.
Elira beamed.
"I did not chase him."
Aerin sagged. "I am so proud and so tired."
That evening, Aerin collapsed into a chair in the quiet sitting room.
"Elira," he said carefully, "I need to set some boundaries."
Elira sat immediately, posture perfect.
"I will listen."
Aerin blinked. "Really?"
"Yes. I am a wife. Wives listen."
Mira hid a smile behind her teacup.
Aerin cleared his throat.
"No knives in diplomacy."
Elira nodded. "Agreed."
"No threats."
"Agreed."
"No chasing people."
"…Mostly agreed."
Aerin sighed. "No."
Elira nodded firmly. "Agreed."
A pause.
"And," Aerin added gently, "if someone insults me… you don't have to defend me violently."
Elira looked confused. "Why not?"
"Because," he said softly, "I trust you. And I don't want you to hurt yourself trying to protect me."
Elira stared at him.
Her expression shifted — not rage, not joy — something quieter.
"I have never been trusted," she admitted.
Aerin smiled faintly. "Get used to it."
She swallowed.
"…I will try very hard."
She leaned forward suddenly and hugged him.
Hard.
"I love you," she said fiercely.
Aerin wheezed. "I love you too—oxygen—"
Mira gently pried them apart. "No crushing the king."
Elira nodded. "Apologies."
She paused.
"…Can I crush enemies?"
Mira smiled serenely. "We'll discuss."
Later that night, as the palace settled, Elira stood on a balcony beside Aerin.
"I like being married," she said.
Aerin smiled. "I'm glad."
"I still want to stab things sometimes."
"I know."
"But now," Elira continued, "I stop first."
Aerin nodded. "That's all I ask."
Below them, the city lights flickered.
Somewhere inside the palace, Valessara whispered orders.
Somewhere else, Cassian stared at his hands like a man trapped in someone else's game.
And above it all, the Harem Alarm chimed once — not excited, not angry.
Cautious.
The story was changing.
And Elira, somehow, was learning how not to break it.
Mostly.