I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 273: Let’s go to sleep

The castle was too quiet.

Not in the comforting way, like when Kaelith had finally gone to sleep after a day of chewing on silver spoons and setting random objects aflame—but the kind of quiet that echoed.

That pressed down on her ears and settled in the spaces between her ribs. The kind of silence that reminded her that tomorrow, everything might change.

Elysia stood by the window of their guest room, watching moonlight spill across the inner courtyard like it was trying to soothe something unsoothable.

Behind her, Kaelith’s cradle had been moved closer to their bed, just in case she needed them in the night. Again.

She hadn’t made a sound in the last ten minutes. And that, more than anything, unnerved Elysia.

Kaelith rarely slept silently.

She fussed. She squeaked. She mumbled. Occasionally, she growled like a miniature wolf pup.

But not tonight.

Elysia turned to look.

Kaelith was lying on her back, eyes open, staring up at the canopy of the cradle.

Her tiny hands were balled into fists at her sides, her brows knit together in a way that looked absurdly adult for someone who still thought her own feet were edible.

Elysia’s chest tightened.

Even Kaelith could feel it.

The tension in the air. The unsaid words.

The waiting.

"She hasn’t made a single fireball," Malvoria said quietly from behind her, her voice low and tight. "It’s been fifteen minutes."

Elysia turned. Malvoria was seated at the edge of the bed, hair loose over her shoulders, arms resting on her knees as if ready to spring to her feet at any sound.

She looked calm, but Elysia knew her too well.

She could see the barely hidden worry in her posture, the quiet terror in her stillness.

"Do you think she knows?" Elysia asked, voice soft.

Malvoria’s gaze drifted to the cradle. "Not exactly. But she feels it. The magic in the air. The tension in us."

Elysia crossed the room slowly, kneeling beside Malvoria, their knees brushing.

"I keep thinking," she murmured, "that we’ve done everything we can to prepare. That the plan is sound. That we’ll win. And then I remember how many things could still go wrong."

Malvoria nodded slowly. "Same."

They sat in silence for a while, the low flicker of the candlelight casting gentle shadows on the walls, Kaelith’s tiny breaths the only sound between them.

"I hate this part," Elysia whispered.

"The waiting?"

"The knowing."

Malvoria’s hand reached out, threading through hers. "You’re not alone in this.

The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows across the walls of their guest room.

Elysia shifted just enough to lace her fingers more securely through Malvoria’s, anchoring herself in that touch.

It was a quiet sort of intimacy—no teasing smiles, no stolen kisses—just warmth in the face of dread.

Kaelith made a small sound in her cradle. Not a cry, not a growl—just a breathy, uncertain noise, like even her dreams were holding their breath.

Elysia stood and moved to the cradle, reaching in to run a soothing hand across her daughter’s belly. "We’re here," she murmured, "you’re safe."

Malvoria came up behind her, wrapping her arms around Elysia’s waist. Her chin rested on Elysia’s shoulder, her breath warm against the curve of her neck. T

hey watched Kaelith together, and Elysia felt that strange thrum again—not quite fear, not quite hope. Just the undeniable truth that what they had built could be broken in a day.

"She’ll never remember this," Malvoria whispered. "But I hope... I hope she’ll feel it. That we fought for her. That we made choices with her in mind."

"She’ll know," Elysia said quietly. "Even if it’s not in memory... she’ll carry it. Like a heartbeat."

They stayed like that until Kaelith’s eyes finally drifted shut, her little hands going limp with sleep. The knot in Elysia’s chest loosened—just a little.

Malvoria tugged her gently toward the bed. "We should try to rest."

"Try being the operative word," Elysia said, sinking down beside her.

They lay down together, facing each other in the candle’s dying glow. Malvoria reached out, tucking a lock of silver hair behind Elysia’s ear.

"You know," she murmured, "you didn’t have to come with me tomorrow."

Elysia blinked. "You’re joking."

"I’m not. Saelira, Lara, Raveth—any of them would protect Kaelith with their life. You could have stayed here."

"I’m not leaving you," Elysia said firmly. "We fight together. That was the promise."

Malvoria’s expression softened, like something in her that had been taut finally gave way. "I was afraid you’d say that."

"And yet you married me anyway."

"Foolish of me," Malvoria whispered, then leaned forward and kissed her.

It was a soft kiss, nothing like the earlier hunger that had left them tangled in each other’s limbs. This was slower. Sadder. Full of unspoken things.

The kind of kiss you gave someone when you didn’t know what the morning would bring.

Elysia pressed closer, arms winding around Malvoria’s back.

Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, but her thoughts slowed. It was so easy, being like this—wrapped around the woman who had once terrified her. Who had become her home.

Malvoria shifted until their foreheads touched, her voice a breath. "I want a hundred more mornings with you."

Elysia’s throat tightened. "Then survive tomorrow. Win. Come back to us."

They didn’t say more after that. They simply lay there, holding each other as the room darkened and the future drew nearer with every heartbeat.

Eventually, Elysia must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, Malvoria was kissing the curve of her shoulder, then her neck.

"Can’t sleep?" Elysia mumbled.

Malvoria’s voice was quiet and low. "My mind’s too loud."

Elysia turned to face her. "Want to talk about it?"

Malvoria hesitated. Then, with a small smirk, said, "No. I’d rather distract myself."

Elysia raised an eyebrow. "With what, exactly?"

Malvoria’s hands slid down her back, pulling her flush. "You."

Elysia rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. "Seriously?"

"Think of it as stress relief. One final act of devotion before I go murder my estranged mother."

Elysia let out a soft laugh, burying her face in Malvoria’s neck. "That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said."

"I can be worse," Malvoria whispered, teeth grazing her earlobe. "Let me show you."

Elysia sighed, mock exasperated. "We’re supposed to be sleeping."

Malvoria rolled on top of her. "Might as well get some good time after everything happens."