I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 251: Getting ready for the banquet

The palace was silent in the early morning, the kind of sacred hush that existed only before dawn.

Elysia woke first.

She always did now, ever since Kaelith had been born. Her body had adjusted to a new rhythm, alert to the tiniest sounds—one shift of breath, one hiccup from the cradle, and she was up.

But today, it wasn’t Kaelith’s soft whimpers that stirred her.

It was excitement.

She blinked in the soft lavender light filtering through the high windows, a content smile spreading across her face. Today was the day.

After weeks of fireproofing decorations, finalizing seating charts under threat of demon drama, and making sure her sister-in-law didn’t accidentally seduce another political heir, the Banquet of Announcement had finally arrived.

Kaelith’s day.

Elysia turned her head and looked beside her.

Malvoria was still out cold, splayed across the bed like a fallen war goddess, one arm over her face, her hair tangled in all directions. She was snoring softly, just loud enough to be smug about it.

The cradle near the bed glowed faintly with protective sigils. Kaelith, swaddled in silken blankets, slept like she ruled the world. Which, technically, she would one day.

Elysia rose quietly, padded barefoot across the floor, and peeked into the cradle. One tiny hand had escaped the blanket, fingers curled like she was dreaming of gripping fire.

"Perfect little tyrant," Elysia whispered, brushing a silver curl from her daughter’s forehead.

Then she turned back to the bed and cracked her knuckles.

"Time to wake the demon queen."

She approached with slow, exaggerated steps.

"Mal," she said gently.

No response. freewёbnoνel.com

Elysia cleared her throat. "Malvoria. My love. My terror. My flame-forged consort."

Still nothing.

So Elysia leaned down, brushed her lips against Malvoria’s ear, and whispered, "The Celestian princess is here, and she’s asking about Lara and responsability."

Malvoria jerked upright so fast she headbutted Elysia in the jaw.

"WHAT?!"

Elysia stumbled back, hand to her mouth, laughing through the pain. "That’s one way to wake up."

Malvoria blinked, disoriented, her hair a halo of chaos. "Where is she? I swear to the void, if she so much as breathes near—"

"She’s not here yet," Elysia said, snorting. "But you are. Barely."

Malvoria squinted at the window. "Is it still night?"

"It’s dawn. We’ve got three hours before the banquet. Time to bathe, feed Kaelith, and argue about your wardrobe."

"I only argue because you keep giving me options," Malvoria grumbled, flopping back down.

Elysia climbed onto the bed and straddled her hips, pressing her hands to her chest. "You have three suits tailored by the finest infernal hands in the realm."

"They all look too formal."

"That’s because it’s a formal occasion."

"I want to look approachable."

"You’re a demon queen."

"Exactly. I need to offset the fear."

Elysia narrowed her eyes. "You are fear."

Malvoria smirked. "True."

Behind them, Kaelith cooed softly, then sneezed a tiny puff of smoke that curled into a heart.

"Oh," Elysia said, placing a hand over her chest. "She’s being manipulative again."

"Just like her mother."

"Which one?"

Malvoria grinned. "Yes."

---

The royal bath was already steaming by the time they entered, the servants having been given specific instructions to have it ready.

The room was vast, filled with the scent of lavender, obsidian salts, and morning lilies. Steam curled through the carved stone pillars, light glinting off the enchanted water that shimmered with soft magic.

Kaelith floated nearby in a fireproof basket-spell designed specifically for bath-time supervision.

Elysia slipped into the water first with a satisfied sigh. "This is the only calm we’ll get today."

Malvoria followed, groaning as she sank into the warmth. "Remind me to cancel everything next week. I need a vacation from the pre-banquet stress."

"We could go to the Ember Isles. Kaelith would love the volcanoes."

"She’s two months old."

"She is a volcano."

Kaelith gurgled in agreement.

Malvoria leaned against the edge of the bath, hair slicked back, muscles relaxed for the first time in days. Elysia swam closer, brushing wet fingers along her collarbone.

"You’re going to be stunning today," she murmured.

"I’m already stunning."

"You’re also impossible."

"That’s part of the charm."

Post-bath was where things unraveled.

The royal dressing room looked like a tailoring explosion.

Three infernal suits were laid out: one was black with silver trim and shoulder plates shaped like stylized wings.

Another was deep burgundy with rune-etched lapels and a long crimson cape. The third was a sleeveless number, tight, clean-cut, and polished obsidian with amethyst accents.

Malvoria stared at all three like they’d personally insulted her.

"I hate all of them."

"You said they were perfect two days ago," Elysia said, rubbing scented oil into her arms.

"That was two days ago. I’m a new person now."

"You’re a tired person now."

"I don’t want to be overdressed."

"You won’t be. The baby is wearing a dress with rune embroidery and a miniature crown."

Malvoria flinched. "Gods, she’s going to outshine me."

"She outshines everyone."

"I should wear armor."

"You’re not going into battle."

"It’s emotional battle!"

Elysia picked up the burgundy suit and held it against Malvoria. "This one. It matches the banquet theme."

"The banquet theme is ’glow and power.’"

"Exactly."

Malvoria groaned and flopped into the nearest chair like a fainting noble. "Fine. But only if I get to wear the cape."

Elysia kissed her forehead. "You can wear two."

Kaelith, from her cushioned nest, chose that moment to spit up on the front of Elysia’s robe.

Elysia blinked down. "She has excellent comedic timing."

"She gets it from me."

"I’d believe that."

Malvoria leaned forward, taking a towel and wiping the mess before Elysia could. "It’s going to be a long day."

Elysia smiled, fingers combing gently through her wife’s damp hair. "Yes, but it’s hers."

Malvoria looked over at their daughter, now chewing her own foot contentedly.

"She won’t even remember this."

"But we will."

They both stood, half-dressed, half-exhausted, the weight of monarchy and motherhood stitched into every motion. The pressure. The expectations. The chaos.

And yet, in the heart of it all—Kaelith.

Elysia reached for Malvoria’s hand, intertwined their fingers, and said softly, "Kaelith is more important today."

Just as Malvoria reached for the polished crimson cape, the sound hit them.

A shrill, wailing cry—tiny but powerful enough to rattle the stained-glass panels above.

Both mothers froze.

Then, in perfect sync, they turned toward the bassinet.

Kaelith’s little face was scrunched in outrage, her silver brows furrowed, her cheeks flushed with fury.

Tiny fists waved in the air, and a spark of violet flame puffed from her mouth like punctuation.

"She was fine five seconds ago," Malvoria muttered.

Elysia was already moving, towel still slung over her shoulder, the front of her robe only halfway tied. She scooped Kaelith up and cradled her close, bouncing slightly.

"There, there, my little empress," she whispered, pressing a kiss to the baby’s forehead. "What is it now? Hunger? Existential dread? Did you sense your aunt Lara is still alive?"

Kaelith wailed louder in response.

Malvoria handed over the soft, embroidered feeding wrap. "Definitely hunger."

Settling into the cushioned rocking chair, Elysia pulled Kaelith close, adjusting the wrap and letting her latch.

The instant the baby began nursing, the tension evaporated. Kaelith sighed as if the world had realigned, one hand clutching the side of Elysia’s robe like a general conquering territory.

Malvoria stood nearby, arms crossed but eyes soft.

"She eats like a beast."

"She is a beast," Elysia said fondly.

"Also, did you notice she screams louder now?"

"She’s preparing for court."

"She’s preparing for war."

They both laughed quietly, watching their daughter feed, her fangs just beginning to show as tiny nubs.

Despite the chaos, despite the looming banquet and the still-undecided cape debate, these quiet moments always settled them.

The way Kaelith looked at them—like they were her whole world—reminded them that this wasn’t just about royalty or politics.

It was about her.

After Kaelith finished, full and satisfied, Elysia burped her gently over her shoulder. The baby gave a majestic little hiccup, followed by a faint puff of smoke that curled into a heart before vanishing.

"She’s showing off," Malvoria said proudly.

"She knows she’s the star."

They moved back to the nursery suite, where Kaelith’s outfit—carefully chosen after many arguments, tears, and one dramatic resignation from the palace tailor—awaited.

A tiny dress of plum silk, embroidered with silver thread in the shape of protective runes, lay waiting atop a velvet pillow.

Beside it, little fireproof booties and a miniature circlet glimmered with amethyst and obsidian gems.

Malvoria raised an eyebrow. "We are not worthy."

"I know," Elysia said as she laid Kaelith down on the changing cushion. "Now help me get this dragon into her armor."

Kaelith squirmed, kicking her legs with more enthusiasm than precision.

Malvoria gently caught one flailing foot and began slipping on the bootie with admirable care.

"You act like this is a military maneuver," Elysia teased.

"It is. High-risk territory. She’s slippery."

"I’m slippery," Kaelith mumbled. Or gurgled. The line was blurry.

They managed to get the dress on her with only one magical flare-up and a minor chewing incident.

When they stepped back, Kaelith blinked up at them in full regalia, her round cheeks glowing, the rune-embroidered silk shimmering like starlight.

"She looks like royalty," Malvoria said softly.

"She looks like trouble," Elysia corrected.

"Both."

Elysia sat beside her on the cushioned bench and reached for the small brush designed specifically for Kaelith’s sensitive scalp.

Her hair was still fine and soft—silver like her own, with a streak of flame-red near the back that curled just like Malvoria’s.

"She’s going to have wild hair," Elysia murmured, brushing carefully.

"She gets that from me."

Elysia hummed. "You’re lucky I like wild things."

Kaelith cooed and kicked again, pleased by the attention.

Her hair fluffed slightly under the brush, the curls bouncing with every motion. Malvoria leaned in to tuck one tiny curl behind her daughter’s ear, then traced the tip of one miniature horn just beginning to form.

"She’s perfect."

Elysia smiled, setting the brush aside. "And ready to conquer her first ballroom."

Malvoria straightened, regal once more. "Then let the chaos begin."