I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 268: We meet it head-on

Malvoria watched as Elysia cradled Kaelith in her arms, the baby instantly settling with a dramatic little sigh like a queen finally reunited with her favorite servant.

It should have been a heartwarming sight. Elysia murmuring soft words, swaying gently, her fingers stroking Kaelith’s soft tufts of white hair streaked with faint crimson at the tips.

A soft glow lit both their faces, casting them in the warm, familiar magic of motherhood.

And yet...

Malvoria narrowed her eyes.

Kaelith was looking at her.

Not just looking. Staring. Glaring, even.

Tiny nose wrinkled, brows drawn together, those oversized grey eyes fixed on Malvoria with the fierce, unblinking intensity of someone delivering a very specific threat.

Malvoria blinked, leaning forward slightly.

The glare deepened.

Elysia chuckled under her breath. "What’s that look for, little flame? You’re with Mama now."

Kaelith responded by gripping a strand of Elysia’s hair and burying her face in it possessively.

Malvoria crossed her arms. "She just glared at me."

Elysia turned, still rocking Kaelith. "What?"

"I’m serious," Malvoria said. "That was a full-on ’back off, she’s mine’ expression. She looked like she was claiming you."

Elysia laughed outright this time. "She’s two months old."

"Exactly," Malvoria said darkly. "She shouldn’t already know how to weaponize passive-aggression."

Kaelith blinked, glanced at Malvoria again—and then deliberately snuggled deeper into Elysia’s chest.

"Oh gods," Malvoria muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. "I’m being challenged. By a baby."

Elysia’s shoulders shook with laughter. "She’s probably just tired and cranky."

"She’s staking a claim," Malvoria grumbled. "I saw it in her eyes. That was ’this is my mommy and you may never kiss her again’ energy."

Elysia walked over and stood in front of her, rocking Kaelith. "Jealous?"

"Of a drooling, fire-starting two-month-old?" Malvoria arched a brow. "Yes. Absolutely."

Kaelith made a smug little noise and threw one arm around Elysia’s neck, glaring over her shoulder like a miniature empress.

"She’s doing it again!"

Elysia bit her lip, trying—and failing—not to laugh. "She’s just a baby."

"She’s plotting something," Malvoria said firmly. "I can feel it in my bones."

---

That night, dinner in Saelira’s castle was, somehow, even more chaotic than lunch.

It wasn’t the food—though the chefs had outdone themselves again, filling the long stone table with roasted pheasant glazed in honey, spiced root vegetables, pillowy garlic flatbreads, and a shimmering dessert that glowed faintly blue.

It wasn’t even the conversation, though Raveth was suspiciously quiet and Veylira had shown up late wearing a different collar entirely—one that covered her neck to the ears.

No. The true source of the chaos tonight had golden-violet eyes, a wobbly head, and the most dramatic lung capacity in the castsle.

Kaelith.

Malvoria had never seen a baby vibrate with anticipation before.

The moment the food was laid out and everyone seated, Kaelith—comfortably nestled in Elysia’s lap—began to squirm like she’d been charged with a lightning rune.

Her tiny fingers flailed in the direction of Elysia’s chest with military precision. Then came the expectant whining noises. Then the leg kicking. Then the gurgle that absolutely sounded like a demand.

Elysia looked down with the fond patience of someone used to being emotionally blackmailed by an infant. "Already?"

Kaelith responded by trying to crawl straight through her shirt.

Malvoria nearly choked on her wine. "Gods. Give the heir what she demands before she sets something on fire again."

"I think she might have been hungry ten minutes ago," Lara muttered from across the table. "Now she’s in protest."

"She’s dramatic," Raveth added.

"She gets that from Elysia," Malvoria said solemnly.

"I heard that," Elysia replied without looking up, already adjusting her blouse and lifting Kaelith with practiced ease. The moment the fabric shifted, Kaelith let out a sound that could only be described as triumphant.

And then—bliss.

Complete, utter serenity descended over Kaelith’s face the instant she latched on.

Her chubby arms fell to her sides.

Her legs stopped kicking.

Her eyes rolled halfway back.

It was the face of a soul that had returned to the one true purpose of its existence.

The entire table went quiet watching her.

"She looks like a tiny drunk noble," Lara said, chewing thoughtfully on a strip of pheasant. "Like she just downed the best wine and no one else matters anymore."

"She’s even humming," Raveth noted, amused.

Malvoria leaned closer to Elysia, watching her daughter with one eyebrow raised. "She just gave me a look."

"She’s feeding," Elysia whispered.

"No," Malvoria said seriously. "She looked at me like ’You see what I’ve got? Mine.’"

"I don’t think two-month-olds can express smugness," Veylira muttered, though she didn’t sound confident about it.

"She can," Malvoria deadpanned. "She’s a Daemara."

Kaelith made a faint purring noise. Yes—purring. Malvoria was sure of it now.

Raveth, watching with thinly veiled horror, leaned toward Lara and whispered, "Was she this intense two weeks ago?"

Lara shook her head. "No. This is new. I think she realized she has power and decided to abuse it."

Kaelith, mid-feed, opened one eye. ƒreewebɳovel.com

Just one.

And stared at Malvoria.

A long, slow blink.

Then back to her meal.

Malvoria recoiled slightly. "Did you see that?"

"She’s marking territory," Elysia said lightly, smoothing Kaelith’s wispy hair. "She knows I’m hers right now."

Malvoria groaned, slouching back in her chair. "I’m losing a war to an infant."

"You’re not losing," Elysia said sweetly. "You’re just... in second place."

"To a tiny goblin who sleeps two hours a night and explodes if I get too close to her source of food."

Kaelith hummed again, smiling around her task.

Everyone at the table went still again.

"That’s the smile of someone who just stole a throne," Saelira observed, biting into her bread.

"I am the throne," Elysia muttered.

Malvoria laughed under her breath, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Elysia’s shoulder. "You’re not a throne. You’re a queen."

Kaelith growled softly.

Malvoria raised her hands in surrender. "Alright, you’re the queen, too."

Kaelith gave one satisfied suck and finally closed her eyes, falling into what could only be described as a milk-drunk stupor.

Elysia, laughing softly, readjusted her blouse and gently burped their daughter while Malvoria scooted closer, cutting a slice of the spiced pheasant and placing it on Elysia’s plate without asking.

Dinner resumed with a hum of conversation and the soft clinking of silverware against porcelain. The warmth from the hearth behind them complemented the delicious aroma of seasoned meat and the freshly baked flatbreads stacked beside golden butter.

Malvoria took her first proper bite of the evening and let out a low, involuntary hum of approval. "Alright. Whoever made this deserves a promotion."

"It was the head chef," Saelira said, delicately sipping her wine. "She’s the one who threatened to mutiny if I kept forgetting meals again."

"Wise woman," Raveth said. "Feed the queen, or face the flames."

Elysia cut a slice of honeyed root vegetable and offered it to Malvoria with a small smile. "You’ve barely eaten all day. Focus."

"I was busy making war plans," Malvoria said around the bite. "You were distracting me with kisses."

"And Kaelith was distracting you with death glares," Elysia added.

"She has your stubbornness," Veylira muttered from across the table, now peeling an orange with almost militaristic precision.

"And your ability to weaponize eye contact," Lara quipped, earning a small snort from Raveth.

It was, for the first time in days, a real moment of calm.

The food was too good to rush, the conversation light, and Kaelith was mercifully asleep in Elysia’s arms, her little hand gripping a fold of fabric like a talisman.

But, as always, the world found its way back into the room.

Saelira set her wine down with a soft clink and lifted a pale parchment scroll from beside her seat. Her expression shifted—still calm, but edged now with something more serious.

"I received a letter," she said, her voice cutting through the warmth like a quiet blade. "From the Celestian Courts."

The table stilled.

Even Kaelith stirred faintly.

Malvoria straightened. "And?"

"They’ve formally stated that if we decide to reclaim the Demon Palace," Saelira continued, "they will support us. Openly, if necessary."

Raveth raised her brows. "The Celestians? Supporting a demon conflict?"

"They’ve made it clear that while they do not condone internal power struggles, they see Lucindra’s seizure of the palace as destabilizing—and dangerous."

"That’s... unexpected," Elysia said, exchanging a glance with Malvoria.

"Yes," Saelira said, and then, after a beat, "Although they also included... a condition."

Malvoria’s jaw tightened. "Of course they did."

"It’s not immediate," Saelira clarified. "But once the situation is stabilized, the Celestians wish to meet with us to discuss—" she glanced at Lara, "—the pregnancy of their Crown Princess."

Lara choked on her wine.

Elysia blinked. "They mentioned it outright?"

"Verbatim," Saelira said, unrolling the scroll. "’Though the political implications of the princess’s condition are still under review, we trust that the demons of the western throne will act in accordance with the honor expected of royal bloodlines.’"

Lara slid further down her chair, covering her face with one hand. "Kill me."

"No one’s killing anyone," Malvoria muttered. "Not yet."

"They didn’t threaten war," Saelira added carefully. "But they made it clear they expect accountability. And dialogue."

Malvoria exhaled slowly. "So they’ll back us. But we owe them... a conversation."

"And probably a wedding," Veylira added under her breath.

Lara groaned again. "What if I just go live in a swamp? Alone? With frogs."

"You’d get them pregnant too," Raveth muttered.

Elysia stifled a laugh, and even Malvoria’s lips twitched despite herself.

Still, the weight of the news lingered.

It was a gift—support from the Celestians could tilt the balance of power.

But it came with its own brand of diplomacy and tangled strings. And at the center of it all... Lara’s impulsive night and a baby soon to follow.

Malvoria looked across the table, her gaze sweeping from her mother to her sister, then to Elysia holding their daughter. So many layers. So much to protect.

She leaned closer to Elysia, her voice low and serious.

"Whatever happens... we meet it head-on. Together."