Bab 210: A Truth Too Big for Champagne

By the end of the night, Amara found herself leaning against a table, watching Elara laugh with Marisol and Helena. Despite the absurdity of it all the mop-Eirik, Lorenzo's diva antics, and the conga line that had devolved into a human pretzel it had been one of the most bizarrely enjoyable evenings in recent memory.

Helena approached, holding two glasses of champagne. "You looked like you needed this," she said, offering one to Amara.

Amara accepted it with a raised brow. "Are you trying to get me drunk, Mother?"

Helena smirked. "Please. If you think two glasses will do it, I've failed as a parent."

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, the noise of the party humming in the background. Helena's sharp eyes scanned the room, landing on Elara. "She makes you happy," she said, her tone unusually soft.

Amara stiffened. "Who, Marisol? Sure, she's a hoot."

Helena gave her a look. "Don't be cute, Amara. I mean Elara."