I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 247: Are you afraid she’s going to fall in love ?

Malvoria stormed through the corridor like a woman on a mission—except she had no mission, no blade in hand, no battle plan to draft.

She was simply walking fast because she had too many feelings and nowhere to put them.

Her boots echoed sharply against the stone floor, and the palace staff she passed wisely flattened themselves against the walls.

They knew that look. The tight jaw. The furrowed brow. The way her cloak flared behind her like wings made of rage and barely-contained anxiety.

She opened the door to her chambers without knocking, not out of rudeness but because knocking on her own door felt absurd.

Inside, the world shifted.

The air was warmer, scented with roses and faint traces of honeyed milk. The massive bed was unmade, its soft cream-colored sheets tangled, a cradle sat nearby, glowing faintly with protective wards, and on the chaise near the hearth.

Elysia sat like some serene goddess of motherhood—barefoot, glowing, utterly composed.

Kaelith was nestled in her arms, suckling quietly, one tiny hand curled against Elysia’s breast, the other waving occasionally like she was casting spells in her sleep.

Malvoria stopped. Just stopped, halfway into the room.

Her chaotic storm of pacing thoughts collided instantly with the calm within. She stared for a moment, trying to process the sheer softness before her.

Elysia looked up and arched one elegant brow. "You’re doing the thing again."

"What thing?" Malvoria asked warily.

"The brooding. The silent brooding. You’re radiating stress like it’s your job."

"It is my job," Malvoria muttered, stalking forward and removing her cloak with a dramatic flair that no one acknowledged. "I rule an entire nation of demons."

"You’re also a mother."

Kaelith popped off the breast with a faint squelch and let out a tiny, gurgly sigh. She blinked up at Malvoria with the expression of someone who had seen everything and remained unimpressed.

"Do you see that?" Malvoria hissed, gesturing wildly at the baby. "She’s judging me. She’s three weeks old and already thinks I’m unstable."

Elysia grinned, shifting Kaelith gently to her shoulder. "She’s not judging you. She’s just full. And vaguely sentient."

"She makes that face when I enter the room!"

"She makes that face when anyone enters the room. She made it at her own reflection this morning."

"I am not her reflection," Malvoria snapped.

Kaelith blinked, yawned, and then proceeded to stare at her mother like a tiny old philosopher pondering whether Malvoria was fit to rule or simply full of hot air.

"She’s doing it again," Malvoria whispered.

"She’s a baby, Mal."

"She’s my daughter, and therefore capable of emotional sabotage."

Elysia patted Kaelith’s back gently. "Do I need to remind you that this particular emotional spiral is not even about her?"

Malvoria crossed her arms. "I’m not spiraling."

"You’re spiraling," Elysia said patiently, adjusting the blanket around the now-dozing Kaelith.

"I just think it’s interesting," Malvoria began, pacing near the fireplace like a dragon in a gilded cage, "that my mother, the most terrifying political strategist in three realms, is currently on a date."

Elysia chuckled. "And?"

"And with Raveth!"

"She’s gorgeous, by the way," Elysia added helpfully.

"That’s not the point!"

"It’s a little the point."

Malvoria turned to her, eyes wild with incredulity. "She’s wearing silk. She put pearls in her hair. I haven’t seen her do that since the Celestial Coup!"

"So?"

"So that’s what she wore when she executed an entire council with words alone."

Elysia smirked. "Are you afraid she’s going to fall in love or declare war?"

"I’m afraid she’s going to feel things!"

Elysia laughed, low and warm, shifting Kaelith gently into her lap as the baby curled closer, emitting a tiny huff of flame that singed the blanket. "There it is."

Malvoria stopped again. Hands on hips. Brow twitching.

"I don’t know how to handle her being vulnerable," she admitted finally, in a low, strangled tone. "She’s supposed to be Veylira. The storm in a silk dress. The woman who once ended an engagement by freezing her fiancé’s wine mid-toast."

"And yet," Elysia said slowly, "she’s still a person. A person who raised you. Who protected you. Who deserves her own peace."

Malvoria sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, as if the weight of her mother having feelings had finally crushed her spine.

"She was always the one with control. She used to tell me not to cry in court even when I scraped my knees. Now she’s going out to dinner with someone who looks like she bench-presses dragons for fun!"

"She probably does," Elysia muttered fondly. "Raveth looks very capable."

Malvoria glared at her. "You’re not helping."

"I’m helping you understand that you’re not her mother."

"I practically am!"

"You are not. She’s your mother."

Malvoria huffed, running a hand through her hair. "Then why do I feel like I have to protect her?"

"Because you love her. Because you’ve been carrying the whole realm on your back, and you don’t know how to let go of that weight even when it’s not yours."

Malvoria stared at Elysia.

Kaelith stirred slightly, then fixed her with another look—equal parts suspicion and disappointment.

"You too?" Malvoria asked the baby.

Kaelith sneezed and released a tiny puff of smoke that curled into the vague shape of a middle finger before dissolving into sparkles.

"She’s your daughter, all right," Elysia said brightly.

Malvoria flopped backward onto the bed, groaning loudly. "If she gets a sibling, I want to be the second parent. The fun one."

"You already are the fun one."

"Am I?" Malvoria turned her head dramatically. "Or am I the neurotic one who polices cradle angles and interrogates wet nurses about lullaby volume?"

"Both."

"I hate being both."

Elysia laughed and crawled over beside her, careful not to jostle Kaelith too much as she laid down at Malvoria’s side. She rested her head against Malvoria’s shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment.

"You just want to keep her safe," she said softly. "You’ve always wanted to keep everyone safe."

Malvoria looked up at the ceiling.

"I think I’m more afraid of her being happy and losing it."

Elysia nodded. "That’s fair."

"Is it?"

"Yes. Because it’s honest."

They lay there in silence for a few long minutes, the only sound Kaelith’s gentle breath, the occasional crackle from the hearth, and the distant echo of palace life just outside their door.

Finally, Malvoria sighed. "What if it works? What if they fall in love and she starts wearing florals and asking about feelings?"

Elysia smirked into her shoulder. "Then we plan a wedding and you panic in private."

"And if it doesn’t work?"

"Then we kill Raveth."

Malvoria blinked. "That escalated quickly."

"I’m joking," Elysia said sweetly.

Malvoria narrowed her eyes. "Are you?"

Elysia didn’t answer.

Kaelith made a noise that suspiciously sounded like a snort.

Malvoria turned her head toward the cradle. "You’re all traitors."

Kaelith, in her sleep, raised one tiny fist and waved it vaguely like she was leading a coup.

"Great," Malvoria muttered. "The baby’s organizing a rebellion."

"Relax," Elysia whispered, kissing her temple. "Veylira’s going to be fine. And if she isn’t, we’ll be there for her."

Malvoria let her head fall gently against Elysia’s. "You’re very wise."

"I know."

Kaelith sighed and rolled dramatically onto her side, as if exhausted by their lack of composure.

Malvoria reached over and tugged the blanket higher over her daughter’s tiny shoulders.

"Still watching us," she whispered.

Elysia smiled. "Of course. She’s your daughter. She was born judging."

Malvoria didn’t argue.

She just lay there, surrounded by warmth and laughter and finally starting to let go of the fear that her mother, the great and terrifying Veylira, might just be... happy.