I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 263: No private time

Malvoria was many things.

Queen. Warrior. Strategist. Lover.

But right now?

She was a half-burned woman walking through Saelira’s endless marble halls, draped in what could only be described as the world’s most ridiculous embroidered shawl.

While her wife whispered frantic apologies beside her and her daughter gleefully babbled in the background.

It was, Malvoria thought dryly, not her finest hour.

"I swear," Elysia said for the fifth—or was it sixth?—time, clutching Malvoria’s arm as they walked, "I didn’t mean to blast your clothes off. Or your skin. Mostly your clothes."

Malvoria gave her a side-eye so dry it could have sparked a drought.

"I gathered that," she said.

Kaelith, still perched proudly in Lara’s arms, made a loud, delighted noise and flapped the hem of Lara’s sleeve like a victory banner.

"She’s proud of her moms," Lara said, grinning. "You should see it as a compliment. Boom, fire! Big win for the dynasty."

"Lara," Malvoria said sweetly. "Leave."

Lara blinked. "What, now?"

"Yes. Take Kaelith. Go admire tapestries. Throw rocks at crows. Anything. Just... out."

Elysia flushed a lovely pink but didn’t argue, clearly sensing the undercurrent in Malvoria’s voice.

Lara hesitated a second longer, clearly about to say something smart, but Kaelith tugged her hair sharply, and that decided it.

"Alright, alright! We’re going!" Lara adjusted the tiny princess in her arms. "Come on, you little tyrant. Let’s give your moms some private time."

Kaelith, to Malvoria’s endless gratitude, didn’t protest—though she did manage to blow a tiny, mischievous puff of purple flame toward Elysia as they left, like a salute.

Malvoria waited until the door clicked shut behind them.

The silence that followed was weighted and thick with something warmer, heavier.

Elysia shifted awkwardly beside her. "I—uh, should probably heal you. Properly."

Malvoria turned to face her fully.

The shawl slipped lower over her shoulder, revealing more scorched skin, the angry flush of the burn visible across the slope of muscle. Her hair, still wild from the training, fell over one eye.

The way Elysia looked at her then—half guilt, half hunger made something low and primal curl in Malvoria’s stomach.

"Yes," Malvoria said, voice lower. "You should."

Elysia swallowed.

Hard.

"I’ll—um—go get the ointment. From the kit." She stumbled toward a cabinet set against the wall, retrieving a small jar carved from smoky quartz.

"Saelira said this one’s infused with restoration magic. It should help."

Malvoria didn’t move.

Just watched.

Waited.

When Elysia turned back, jar in hand, Malvoria simply dropped the shawl from her shoulders entirely, letting it pool at her feet.

Elysia stopped breathing for a full two seconds.

"I—"

"Start," Malvoria said, a wicked little smile tugging at her mouth.

Elysia’s fingers trembled slightly as she dipped them into the jar, scooping up a dollop of the glowing salve.

The moment she touched Malvoria’s bare skin, a coolness spread through the burn—followed by a slow, melting heat entirely unrelated to magic.

Elysia moved with unbearable care, tracing the line of the injury from shoulder to collarbone, fingertips light, reverent.

She applied the ointment in slow, circular motions, her body inching closer without meaning to.

Malvoria closed her eyes briefly, savoring it.

The feeling of Elysia’s hands on her, so soft, so attentive, so full of unspoken apology and devotion—was intoxicating.

The salve worked quickly; she could feel the sting ebbing away.

But Elysia didn’t stop.

Her hands slid lower, tracing muscle, soothing along Malvoria’s arm, her ribs, her side. Each pass was slower than necessary. Each touch lingered a little longer.

Malvoria opened her eyes and found Elysia biting her bottom lip, focused intently.

"You’re stalling," Malvoria murmured.

"I’m thorough," Elysia whispered back, voice slightly breathless.

Malvoria tilted her head, smiling faintly. "You’re enjoying this."

"Maybe."

Malvoria caught her hand, pressing it flat over her heart.

"Good," she said, voice a low rumble. "Because so am I."

Elysia exhaled shakily, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just them—the steady beat of Malvoria’s heart under Elysia’s palm, the scent of warm magic and lavender, the slow glide of fingers over skin.

Elysia leaned in without thinking.

Malvoria met her halfway.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but deepened quickly—like a fire catching kindling. Malvoria’s hands found Elysia’s hips, pulling her flush against her.

Elysia responded instantly, her free hand tangling in Malvoria’s hair, the ointment jar forgotten somewhere on the floor.

Their mouths moved together with a desperate familiarity, a hunger that had been stoked long before the flames of training long before even this ridiculous day began.

Malvoria bit Elysia’s lower lip gently, earning a gasp she swallowed like a promise.

Her hands slid lower, tracing the curve of Elysia’s back through the clingy black combination, savoring the way she arched into her touch.

It was slow.

It was heady.

It was perfect—

Until a sharp knock shattered the moment like glass against stone.

They froze.

Another knock, more insistent this time.

"Moms?" came Lara’s voice, slightly muffled through the heavy wood. "Kaelith wants her mommies."

Malvoria closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against Elysia’s with a groan.

"Of course she does," she muttered.

Elysia laughed breathless and red-cheeked—and kissed her again, softer this time, before pulling back.

"We should go," she whispered, regret thick in her voice.

Malvoria sighed but nodded, reaching for the fallen shawl. "One day," she murmured, helping Elysia straighten her clothes, "we will have an uninterrupted moment."

Elysia grinned. "One day."

Malvoria shook her head, brushing her thumb briefly across Elysia’s cheek before stepping back with a sigh full of unsatisfied heat and endless affection.

She bent to retrieve the shawl again, draping it loosely over her shoulders. It didn’t do much to preserve her dignity, but it was better than nothing.

"Ready to face the chaos?" Elysia teased, smoothing her outfit with shaking hands.

"Do we have a choice?"

Together, they moved to the door.

The moment Malvoria opened it, a small whirlwind launched itself at them.

Kaelith let out a delighted screech, waving her little arms wildly. Her tiny face lit up with pure, overwhelming glee the second she saw her mothers.

Lara, looking thoroughly harassed with several small scorch marks on her sleeves, all but threw the baby into Elysia’s waiting arms.

"Your turn!" Lara declared, backing away quickly as if the child might self-destruct. "I barely survived the last ten minutes."

Kaelith giggled madly, smushing her drooly face against Elysia’s neck.

Elysia caught her effortlessly, laughing under her breath despite the weight of exhaustion dragging at her limbs—and the rather pressing need for a very cold shower.

"Did you terrorize Lara while we were gone?" Elysia whispered against Kaelith’s hair.

Kaelith squealed in response, grabbing a handful of Elysia’s black combination outfit and pulling, as if trying to climb inside her.

Malvoria chuckled darkly. "She’s improving her battle tactics."

"She’s already better at hostage negotiation," Lara muttered from behind them, rubbing her abused scalp. "Don’t leave me alone with her again unless you want me bald."

Elysia shifted Kaelith on her hip, cradling her close.

The warmth of the baby against her skin was grounding, soothing—and yet at the same time, she couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through her.

Gods, she needed a cold shower.

Badly.

Desperately.

The back of her neck was still flushed, her heartbeat refusing to return to normal, and her entire body ached with restrained tension that had nothing to do with fire training.

One stolen kiss and some careful touches, and she was a walking disaster of longing.

And judging by the way Malvoria kept glancing at her out of the corner of her eye—with way too much hunger for a woman draped in a half-burned shawl—it wasn’t a one-sided problem.

Kaelith babbled something joyous and tried to shove her foot into Elysia’s mouth.

"I love you," Elysia told her daughter very seriously, shifting the tiny foot away, "but you’re not helping."

Kaelith giggled and blew a spit bubble.

Malvoria leaned in and whispered near Elysia’s ear, voice so low it made her knees weaken, "After she sleeps. You. Me. No interruptions."

Elysia almost dropped the baby.

"Focus," she hissed, cheeks flaming hotter than any of her fire spells.

Malvoria smiled innocently, clearly very pleased with herself.

Kaelith, oblivious to the charged atmosphere, made another grab for Elysia’s combination outfit.

Elysia sighed dramatically. "Alright, alright. I get it. Cold shower, later. Baby, now."

Malvoria chuckled, her voice pure wickedness. "Delayed gratification builds character."

"I have enough character, thanks."

Lara, sensing where this was heading, threw her hands up. "Nope. I’m out. I’m going to find a drink that doesn’t catch fire when Kaelith looks at it."

She disappeared down the hallway, leaving them alone with their giggling daughter.

Elysia kissed Kaelith’s forehead and started walking slowly back toward their rooms.

The halls of Saelira’s castle were oddly quiet, the tension from the previous days still clinging to the air, but right now—in this small, ridiculous moment—Elysia could pretend it was all okay.

Kaelith tugged gently at her hair, and Elysia tilted her head, giving her a soft smile.

"You’re lucky you’re cute," she murmured.

Behind her, Malvoria followed silently, a protective presence, her gaze still heavy with unspoken promises.

When they finally reached the familiar guest quarters, Kaelith was already dozing against Elysia’s shoulder, tiny puffs of breath warming her collarbone.

Elysia carefully nudged the door open, entered, and moved to lay Kaelith down in her cradle, adjusting the soft blankets around her.

Kaelith whimpered once but settled quickly, curling up like a small flame herself.

Elysia straightened, exhaling long and slow.

She turned—and found Malvoria standing close, watching her with an intensity that made her shiver all over again.

Definitely.

Cold shower first.

Maybe.

If they survived it.