I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 245: Malvoria and Lara help

Veylira stood in front of the large oval mirror in her chamber, feeling oddly uncertain. The evening sunlight spilled softly through the tall stained-glass window, bathing the room in hues of gentle amber and soft rose.

Her usually calm, composed face reflected a rare nervousness, a hesitant uncertainty that she hadn’t felt in decades.

In front of her, the lavish dressing table was an elegant mess—jewelry boxes opened like scattered treasure chests, velvet ribbons unraveled and tossed aside, hairpins glittering like fallen stars across polished wood.

She picked up a delicate silver earring studded with amethysts, holding it thoughtfully against her ear before sighing and placing it down again.

On the bed behind her, Malvoria lounged with graceful, predatory ease, propped on one elbow, eyes narrowed in contemplation.

Beside her, Lara sat cross-legged, her fingers tangled with nervous excitement, watching their mother with keen, playful attention.

"You’re doing it again," Malvoria remarked, her voice smooth as silk but tinged with gentle mockery.

"Doing what exactly?" Veylira asked, pausing mid-movement with a bracelet dangling from her fingertips.

Malvoria raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching slightly. "Overthinking, mother. You’ve changed jewelry four times already. I’ve seen war strategies developed with less intensity."

"It’s important to present oneself correctly," Veylira insisted softly, sliding the bracelet over her wrist and testing the fit. The gold shone warmly against her elegant wrist. "Besides, this is my first... date, I suppose, in decades."

"You mean since your last catastrophe," Lara offered helpfully, earning a swift kick to her side from Malvoria. "Ow! What? It’s true!"

Malvoria sighed, massaging her temples. "What my darling sister means is that you shouldn’t stress so much. You look radiant."

Veylira caught her reflection again. Her gown was deep violet, silk that flowed like liquid twilight, tailored perfectly to frame her curves without being overly daring.

The neckline traced the graceful curve of her collarbones, delicate embroidery shimmering faintly in silver threads.

Her red hair cascaded in soft waves down her back, streaked with subtle strands of silver—a reminder of wisdom gained, battles fought, and survived.

"Radiant," Lara echoed, stretching luxuriously across the bed with feline satisfaction.

"Though I must admit, mother, I never expected the fierce Veylira Daemara would need our help choosing earrings."

"I’m not seeking your help," Veylira said dryly, examining another necklace critically, this one a slender, delicate chain with a glowing crimson gemstone at its center.

"I’m merely allowing you both the privilege of observing my decision-making process."

Lara snorted, rolling dramatically onto her back and staring up at the intricate canopy above the bed. "In other words, you’re nervous, and we’re the only ones who won’t immediately faint upon seeing the great Veylira flustered."

"I do not get flustered," Veylira countered, but her voice was less certain, betraying her own doubt. She placed the necklace down gently, her fingertips lingering over the polished surface of her dressing table.

Malvoria’s expression softened, and she sat up slowly, pushing a strands of hair back from her face with a careful, practiced grace.

Her eyes, always fiercely protective beneath their outward calm, now held a gentle understanding.

"Mother," she said quietly, "it’s perfectly fine to feel vulnerable. In fact, I’d be worried if you didn’t."

Veylira met her daughter’s gaze in the mirror. Malvoria had grown into a powerful queen, a feared ruler, yet in this moment, there was a vulnerability in her eyes, a rare and tender kindness reserved for family alone. It made something in Veylira’s chest tighten, warm and bittersweet.

Lara propped herself up again, her eyes bright with mischief and affection. "Exactly! Besides, we like seeing you nervous. It’s refreshing. Makes you almost seem mortal."

Veylira rolled her eyes but felt her lips curl into a reluctant smile. "Your support is overwhelming, Lara."

Malvoria leaned forward, watching her closely. "You don’t need to impress anyone. Not anymore. Whoever this is—"

"General Raveth," Lara interrupted eagerly, eyes gleaming. "A dragon demon. Muscular, intense, utterly terrifying. Mother has excellent taste."

Malvoria nodded patiently. "Whoever Raveth is, if she’s worthy, she’ll see exactly who you are without needing the adornments."

Veylira turned slightly, her expression softening at her daughter’s quiet sincerity. "You sound very certain."

"Because true love does exist," Malvoria said simply, her gaze flickering briefly to Lara, then back to their mother.

"I’ve felt it. I see it every day with Elysia, and now in Kaelith’s eyes. It’s the kind of love that sees beneath armor, titles, and carefully placed jewels. It’s raw and beautiful, and terrifyingly real. You deserve nothing less."

Lara raised an eyebrow, clearly amused and slightly impressed. "Well said, sister. Though I still prefer the armor on, personally."

Malvoria rolled her eyes. "Of course, you would."

Veylira chuckled softly, the tightness in her chest loosening slightly. She regarded herself in the mirror again, the reflection clearer now, free from anxiety.

She chose a pair of understated amethyst earrings, placing them on carefully. They caught the fading sunlight beautifully, glowing softly against her smooth skin.

"I suppose you’re right," she finally conceded, turning to face them fully. "But even so, first impressions matter."

Lara nodded solemnly. "Absolutely. That’s why Malvoria always wears that intimidating cape."

"It’s not intimidating; it’s regal," Malvoria corrected primly.

"Mother, back me up here. It’s intimidating, isn’t it?"

Veylira raised her hands gently in mock surrender. "I find it both regal and intimidating. A perfect balance."

Lara looked triumphant. Malvoria sighed deeply, giving Veylira a look of mild betrayal.

"How comforting to know my mother thinks I’m frightening."

"In the very best way," Veylira reassured warmly, moving to sit beside them on the edge of her large, plush bed. The softness of the silk sheets felt comforting beneath her fingertips.

A gentle silence settled between them—a silence filled with years of unspoken understanding, of shared histories, laughter, pain, and triumph. Veylira studied both her daughters for a quiet moment.

Malvoria, poised yet fiercely protective, every line of her bearing revealing the strength she’d fought to hold onto.

And Lara, mischievous yet loyal, reckless in her courage, with a heart warmer than she ever cared to admit.

"You know," Veylira said quietly, "there was a time I never thought this kind of moment possible. Sitting here with both of you, sharing something so... ordinary. So gentle."

Malvoria’s eyes softened. Lara’s expression became uncharacteristically solemn.

"We know," Malvoria said softly. "You’ve carried so much on your shoulders for so long, Mother. It’s alright to allow yourself some happiness."

Veylira felt a lump forming in her throat. She cleared it gently, brushing a stray strand of hair back from her face. "Happiness can be fragile."

"Then we’ll guard it," Lara declared fiercely, eyes blazing with quiet determination. "Together."

Malvoria nodded, squeezing Veylira’s hand gently. "You’ve protected us for years. Let us protect you now."

A quiet knock on the door broke their gentle silence. Zormuul’s polite, weary voice called through, "Lady Veylira, your carriage has arrived."

Veylira took a steadying breath, smoothing her gown gently as she rose to her feet. Her heart fluttered, but this time it was lighter, steadier, grounded by the strength of her daughters beside her.

Malvoria stood, adjusting the careful folds of Veylira’s gown with gentle, efficient fingers. "You look perfect."

Lara hopped off the bed energetically, examining her mother critically with playful seriousness. "Almost too perfect. Raveth might faint."

Veylira chuckled softly, stepping forward to embrace them both warmly, holding tight for a moment longer than usual. "Thank you. Both of you. I don’t say it enough."

"You don’t have to," Malvoria whispered gently, voice thick with emotion.

"Although," Lara added brightly, stepping back to grin mischievously, "if Raveth breaks your heart, she’ll be introduced to some very unpleasant magic."

Veylira arched an eyebrow, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "Threatening violence already?"

"Oh, absolutely," Lara said cheerfully, eyes dancing. "Consider it daughterly protection. We’re quite fearsome."

Malvoria nodded solemnly. "She’s not wrong. Our combined threat level is formidable."

Veylira laughed warmly, shaking her head with gentle exasperation. She felt younger than she had in years, heart lighter than she’d thought possible.

"Thank you, truly," she said again, voice soft but clear, meeting each of their gazes steadily. "I’m fortunate beyond words to have you both."

"Now go," Malvoria urged gently, a small smile playing at her lips. "You don’t want to be late."

Lara nodded eagerly. "And don’t worry we can kill anybody who will break our mother’s heart again."

Veylira gave her daughters one last, lingering look, a quiet joy filling her heart. As she stepped from the room, she knew that no matter what came next, she would face it with strength and grace.

After all, she had already endured the greatest storms, and emerged stronger, wiser—and deeply loved.

The echoes of Lara’s playful threats and Malvoria’s gentle laughter followed her down the hallway, a comforting reminder that tonight, and always, she wasn’t alone.