It was, Malvoria thought, one of those evenings that started out innocently enough and sohow spiraled into pure chaos before the moon had even risen above the Celestian palace spires.
The air in the sitting room still glimred with the remnants of laughter and woodsmoke; empty wine goblets crowded the end table, and Sarisa’s half-finished embroidery sat neglected on the armrest, thread tangling with every shift of the cushions.
Malvoria eyed the battered deck of cards in Lara’s hands with deep suspicion. She trusted her sister about as far as she could throw her on matters of chance and gas of skill.
They’d played Demon’s Gambit, Warlocks’ Bluff, and one round of Ceaseless Queens so heated that Malvoria suspected her own grandmother would have found it overwhelming.
But if there was one thing that united the demon and Celestian branches of this family, it was their competitive streak—and tonight, for reasons only the gods could explain, that streak belonged entirely to Elysia.
Elysia, who usually lost every ga of cards she played. Elysia, who blushed at every bluff and who, Malvoria suspected, couldn’t count cards to save her life.
Elysia, who was, at this very mont, raking in a pile of winnings (a collection of IOUs, half a chocolate tart, and Lara’s left boot) with a grin so smug Malvoria wondered if she’d been replaced by a changeling.
Lara slamd her hand on the table and pointed at Elysia. "That’s three in a row. Three! No one’s that lucky. Are you hiding a second pair of eyes? Using magic?"
Elysia, impossibly innocent, tucked a lock of silver hair behind her ear. "Lara, you literally tried to deal from the bottom of the deck last round. I think luck is just finally on my side."
Sarisa, who’d been keeping careful track of the ga with a diplomatic neutrality that would have made her mother proud, let out a snort of laughter.
"I’m just happy soone is finally beating the two of you at your own ga."
Malvoria looked down at her own pathetic pile of "winnings"—a crumpled napkin and a carved wooden spoon and glared at her wife.
"You’re colluding with Sarisa, aren’t you? That’s the only explanation. No one wins four hands of Demon’s Gambit in a row unless the gods themselves are bored."
Lara, too put out to even defend her honor, slumped sideways, groaning into the cushions. "At least when I cheat, it’s obvious. You’re like a smiling assassin, Elysia. How are you doing this?"
Elysia’s grin only widened as she shuffled the cards, her eyes shining with mischief and—Malvoria had to admit—a tiny spark of gloating that ward her heart.
"Maybe I’m just channeling Kaelith’s chaos. Or maybe," she added, flashing a look at Malvoria, "it’s finally my turn to win."
The next hand was, if possible, even more disastrous. Malvoria tried every trick she’d learned on the battlefield—psyching out her opponent, distracting them with strategic conversation ("Did you know Sarisa once mistook a basilisk for a sheep?"), even trying to hold Lara’s boot hostage—but nothing worked.
Elysia swept the board, giggling like a schoolgirl, and leaned back with her feet up, completely at ease.
"I can’t believe this," Lara muttered. "First, she marries into the family, then she gives us the cutest niece in the world, and now she’s going to bankrupt us with pure beginner’s luck. We should never have taught her to play."
Malvoria raised a brow, feigning injury. "Excuse , you’re the one who insisted we ’make her part of the family’ by learning Demon’s Gambit. If you didn’t want to be beaten by a human."
Sarisa, always quick on the uptake, patted Elysia’s hand and said, "Don’t listen to them. They’re just sore losers. You’re brilliant."
Malvoria tried to look offended, but the sound of Elysia’s laughter—soft, bubbling, contagious—made it impossible. She found herself smiling despite her "defeat," her earlier suspicions about cheating fading into sothing like pride.
"Fine," Malvoria announced, sweeping her hand over the table.
"Let’s raise the stakes. Loser has to take Kaelith and Aliyah for breakfast tomorrow—and do whatever the little tyrants want."
Lara’s eyes widened in horror. "That’s child endangernt."
Elysia, undaunted, dealt the next hand with a flourish. "Maybe you should fold now while you still have your dignity."
"Oh, it’s on," Lara growled, but Malvoria saw her surreptitiously slip a card up her sleeve. Malvoria let it slide; it was only fair, considering she had a duplicate ace hidden under her thigh.
The round went by in a whirlwind of sly glances, mumbled accusations, and more cheating than any reputable card ga had a right to. Malvoria played her ace at the perfect mont—only to find Elysia, calm as you please, had a full house.
Sarisa clapped her hands, delighted. "That’s it. You two are officially banned from breakfast duty for the next week."
Lara threw down her cards. "I demand a recount."
Malvoria leaned in, voice low and teasing. "I think we’ve been outplayed, big sister. Admit defeat."
But Lara, ever the sorest of losers, lunged across the table and tried to snatch back the boot Elysia had won earlier.
Elysia squealed, ducking behind Sarisa, who valiantly attempted to maintain peace and order as Malvoria seized the opportunity to grab another IOU from the pile.
It devolved rapidly into a wrestling match—Lara trying to retrieve her boot, Malvoria fighting to keep the IOUs, Elysia dissolving into laughter, and Sarisa shrieking with laughter as she clung to her embroidery for dear life.
A stray card hit Malvoria in the cheek. "That’s it!" she cried. "No more cards. I demand a rematch in sothing less... sticky."
Lara pouted, but there was mischief in her eyes. "What, like strip poker?"
"Don’t even start," Elysia warned, but she was grinning, her hair tumbling loose from its braid and her cheeks flushed with mirth.
Malvoria, chest heaving with laughter, finally collapsed back against the sofa. "Maybe we should stop for the mont before soone loses an eye—or a family heirloom."
Sarisa, ever the peacemaker, smoothed her hair and started collecting the cards. "Agreed. Besides, I think we’ve set a bad example for the next generation of card sharks."
Lara nodded, settling back into the cushions. "Next ti, I’m bringing my own deck. And maybe a bodyguard."
Elysia just bead, eyes shining in the firelight, and Malvoria, watching her, thought—chaos and all—she wouldn’t have traded this night for anything. Not for all the crowns in the world.
As the laughter died down and Sarisa swept the cards into a tidy pile, Elysia reclined against Malvoria, looking so pleased with herself it was almost suspicious. Lara, still grumbling about her lost boot and dignity, cast her a sidelong glance.
"You know," Lara drawled, arms folded over her chest, "I can’t help but think this is all a bit... odd. Mal, we cheat all the ti, and yet Elysia won every hand." She eyed Elysia, narrowing her gaze with comic suspicion. "You’re not hiding cards in that perfect hair of yours, are you?"
Elysia’s eyes went wide in feigned innocence. "Lara! How could you accuse of such a thing?"
Malvoria, still flush with laughter, slid an arm around Elysia’s shoulders. "She’s right, darling. You were almost too lucky tonight."
She leaned in, mock-serious, as if she were interrogating a war criminal. "Are you sure you weren’t using magic? You do have so demon blood in your veins now, after all."
Sarisa, never one to miss the opportunity for mischief, gasped dramatically and pointed at Elysia. "I saw her slip sothing into her sleeve!"
Elysia gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "Traitor!"
Lara leaped up, snatching the deck from Sarisa and spreading the cards on the table, hunting for irregularities. When nothing turned up, she glared at Elysia again. "Show us your sleeves!"
Elysia, laughing now, stuck out her arms. "I’m wearing short sleeves, you dolt. There’s nowhere to hide anything!"
Malvoria was looking closely at Elysia’s lap, then at her hair, then at the folds of her tunic. She arched a brow. "Maybe she hid cards in her boots."
Elysia drew up one foot, shaking her boot upside-down—nothing but a tiny bit of lint tumbled out. She stuck out her tongue at Malvoria, who grinned and leaned in, conspiratorially.
"You’re forgetting sothing," Malvoria whispered just loudly enough for everyone to hear. "She was dealing. She could have stacked the deck before every hand!"
Lara slapped a hand to her forehead, scandalized. "You—you’ve been dealing us the worst hands the entire night!"
Elysia shrugged, completely unapologetic. "I never said I wasn’t competitive."
Sarisa’s laughter was so loud now that Aliyah, asleep in her bassinet, stirred and gave a tiny, sleepy cry.
Elysia winced and tiptoed to tuck the blanket around the baby, all while Lara kept muttering about betrayal and how no one in this family could be trusted around a deck of cards.
Malvoria, laughing until she had tears in her eyes, tugged Elysia back down to her side. "I’m so proud," she said, mock-solemn. "Truly, you’ve beco one of us. Cheating with such finesse! You’re finally a demon queen in every sense."
Elysia snorted. "I learned from the best. Maybe next ti we’ll let Kaelith deal and see who survives."
Lara looked horrified. "No. Absolutely not. That child has no rcy."
Sarisa wiped tears from her cheeks, finally recovering. "Next ti, we play a ga with no cheating. And no cards. Maybe charades. You can’t cheat at charades... can you?"
Malvoria exchanged a glance with Elysia and Lara, three devils with identical grins. "You’d be surprised."
The chaos lingered as the fire burned lower and the night crept deeper. There was warmth, and love, and the sweet, silly promise that this little family—liars, cheaters, and all—would always have these nights of wild laughter and unexpected triumphs.
In the end, it hardly mattered who had won the ga. For now, it was enough that they had all played together, their chaos woven into a story that would be retold—over breakfast, over wine, over cards—for years to co.
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