I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 255: Run away

The world had turned to glass.

Every breath Malvoria tried to take fractured against the inside of her chest. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t summon flame or fury or anything beyond the scream building silently in her throat.

Lucindra’s spell held them all like statues, suspended in time and helpless to stop what was unfolding.

Elysia stood to her left, still holding Kaelith’s blanket from moments ago. Her wide violet eyes burned with rage and fear.

Raveth, just ahead, had her sword half-drawn, her stance frozen mid-charge. Lara looked like she was trying to scream. And Veylira—her expression was thunderous. But none of them could move.

None of them could stop her.

Lucindra stood alone at the center of the ruined moment, red eyes glowing, her smirk slow and satisfied.

The ballroom’s torches dimmed in her presence.

"Well," she murmured, turning her gaze to the floating cradle beside the dais, "aren’t you a quiet little thing."

Kaelith blinked up at her, completely unaware of the terror soaking the room like smoke. She was cooing again, playing with the edge of her circlet, her tiny foot kicking at the embroidered blanket with innocent defiance.

Malvoria wanted to scream.

She wanted to burn.

Lucindra stepped closer, the heels of her boots echoing like execution drums on the stone floor. The power around her pulsed—crimson, dense, unnatural.

"You’ve stirred quite the storm, haven’t you?" Lucindra purred.

"So many nobles, all tripping over themselves to swear loyalty to a creature who can’t even speak yet. A baby. Born of a mortal consort and a delusional heir."

Her lip curled.

"My blood runs in your veins, child," she added, voice now darkening. "That’s my lineage they’re celebrating. But will they remember that, I wonder? Or will they pretend I never existed?"

Kaelith giggled, gnawing her fingers.

Lucindra stared at her. The softness in her eyes was shallow—masking something sharp.

"You’re not even that impressive up close," she said cruelly. "A chubby little spark in a fancy blanket. Not a queen. Not a threat."

She reached out her hand.

Malvoria’s heart nearly stopped.

The fingers moved slowly toward Kaelith’s cheek.

Elysia’s body, still locked in place, shook slightly—like her will alone might shatter the spell.

But Kaelith... Kaelith tilted her head.

And smiled.

Lucindra blinked.

Then her hand met flame.

Not heat. Not a spark.

But a burst—of violet fire, radiant and furious, erupting from the cradle like a living barrier.

It struck Lucindra’s palm with a crackling hiss.

She screamed.

The air rippled.

Lucindra jerked back, cradling her hand, which was now blistered and blackened, smoke rising in angry spirals.

Malvoria felt a jolt run through her limbs not enough to move, but enough to hope.

Kaelith squealed in delight, completely unharmed, and the violet fire coiled protectively around her, forming a slow-spinning halo of smoke and embers.

Her eyes glowed faintly now not with knowledge, but with the raw, instinctive magic of her birthright.

Lucindra staggered back, snarling.

"Little witch," she hissed, clutching her burned hand. "You dare—"

A new ripple tore through the room.

And then she appeared.

Saelira.

Cloaked in navy silk etched with starfire thread, her black hair braided in ceremonial coils. She didn’t walk in she arrived with a pulse of power so sharp the ground cracked under her boots.

Malvoria’s eyes widened. Her grandmother’s presence slammed into the room like judgment itself.

Lucindra spun. "Saelira—" fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

"Touch her again," Saelira said, voice deceptively soft, "and I will make you regret being born with hands."

Lucindra’s smirk faltered. "Come to play savior?"

"No," Saelira said. "I’ve come to remove the only things in this room worth saving."

With one fluid motion, she lifted Kaelith into her arms. The violet flames curled toward her briefly then quieted, recognizing her.

Saelira’s eyes met Malvoria’s for the briefest second.

Then the sigils flared beneath her feet, etched in a language only the oldest demons remembered. Light burst through the ballroom, blinding, cleansing.

And the spell broke.

Time snapped forward like a bowstring.

Malvoria gasped, lungs filling. She stumbled forward, reaching for her daughter.

But she was already disappearing.

Elysia cried out, lunging toward them. Lara shouted something broken and loud.

Raveth raised her sword.

But it was too late.

Saelira vanished in a column of light Kaelith clutched against her chest, flames trailing in their wake.

Everyone else followed.

A teleportation wave rolled through the hall, sucking the air from the room. It pulled them Elysia, Malvoria, Lara, Raveth, even Veylira out, like stars fleeing a collapsing sun.

Only Lucindra remained.

The torches flickered.

The ballroom was empty.

She looked around the space, burned and echoing.

Then smiled again.

"Run away," she murmured, flexing her burned hand.

"That’s all you can do for now."

The world reformed around Malvoria in a haze of light and wind.

She staggered slightly as her boots hit polished obsidian, the air cool and crisp with old magic.

A faint hum pulsed beneath her feet, the residual energy of Saelira’s teleportation circle settling into stillness.

Then the silence broke.

"Kaelith?" Elysia gasped.

Malvoria’s eyes snapped toward the sound—and there she was.

In the center of the chamber, illuminated by the soft bluish glow of enchanted glass lanterns, stood Saelira.

Regal, still, and slightly breathless—but unshaken. And in her arms, wrapped snugly in a fireproof velvet blanket, Kaelith blinked in confusion, her tiny brow furrowed.

She was unharmed.

Alive.

Whole.

"Kaelith!" Elysia rushed forward, skirts trailing behind her as she all but flew across the room.

Malvoria followed without thinking. She didn’t care that her legs were still numb, that her heart was racing too hard to be healthy. She only cared about the tiny weight held in her grandmother’s arms.

Saelira looked down at the child, then wordlessly handed her over.

Elysia gathered Kaelith close with shaking arms, cradling her against her chest, whispering soothing words.

Kaelith, for her part, let out a disgruntled coo and nuzzled Elysia’s collarbone like nothing had happened.

Malvoria reached them a heartbeat later, dropping to one knee beside her wife, one hand brushing her daughter’s hair, the other gripping Elysia’s shoulder. "You’re safe," she breathed. "You’re both safe."

Elysia nodded, tears gathering in her eyes but not yet falling. "Thanks to her."

They looked up at Saelira.

"Thank you," Malvoria said, voice thick. "I—gods, if you hadn’t been there—"

"I didn’t do it for thanks," Saelira said simply.

Her voice echoed slightly in the chamber—tall, arched with silver-rimmed windows and dark blue banners fluttering from the ceiling.

The entire castle felt colder, older, and more remote than Malvoria remembered from childhood. Saelira castle.

It was built of silence and strategy.

"I didn’t think she would come," Saelira added after a beat. "Lucindra. I watched the guest list myself, traced every soul entering the wards."

"She wasn’t invited," Malvoria said. "She forced her way through."

"I underestimated her," Saelira admitted. "And for that, I apologize."

Malvoria rose slowly, still keeping a hand on Elysia and Kaelith.

She looked around the room.

Saelira’s sanctuary.

A place she hadn’t seen in over two decades.

And now they were here—shaken, burned, but alive.

And Lucindra... still out there.