I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 298: We’ve survived

The heavy doors closed behind the Celestial Queen with a soft thud, but the silence she left behind rang louder than any slammed entrance could have.

Kaelith made a little humming sound, her version of victory and resumed babbling to the small plush wyvern she had found on the floor.

Somewhere in the background, a servant took a cautious breath and tiptoed away, as if even his footsteps might offend someone.

Sarisa stared at the door for a long moment.

Then she let out a breath that sounded like it had been trapped in her ribs for ten years.

"I..." she began, voice quieter than usual.

Lara, lounging against a pillar now that the threat of inter-realm drama had passed, raised a brow. "If you’re about to apologize for her, you don’t have to."

"No," Sarisa said. "I really do."

Malvoria turned her gaze toward her ’sister-in-law’ who looked, somehow, and tilted her head slightly, waiting.

Sarisa stepped forward, shifting Aliyah gently in her arms. The baby stirred but didn’t wake.

"I’m sorry," she said, finally. "For her behavior. For her words. For... all of it."

Elysia scoffed. "You weren’t the one throwing judgment like confetti."

Sarisa gave a tired smile. "Still. I brought her here. I thought... maybe if she saw the truth—the child, this place, all of you—maybe she’d remember she was a mother before she was a monarch."

"She did look at Aliyah," Malvoria murmured. "Really looked."

"She did," Sarisa agreed, voice softer now. "But the moment passed, and the crown returned. That’s how she’s been for years—half her heart caught in the past, the other chasing protocol like it’s a lifeline."

Lara approached slowly, arms crossed. "You okay?"

"Not that much." Sarisa smiled grimly. "But I’m used to it."

She sat down again, carefully settling Aliyah in her arms. Her posture eased just slightly now that the queen was gone.

"I knew what it would be like," she admitted. "But it still stings."

"You shouldn’t have to apologize for her," Malvoria said. "You stood your ground. That’s enough."

"Maybe," Sarisa said. "But part of me still hoped she’d be different. That she’d hold her granddaughter and just... be a grandmother."

Kaelith, who had gotten bored of the plush wyvern, toddled over and plopped herself down beside Sarisa’s feet again. "Yah," she whispered reverently, gazing at Aliyah like she was a newly crowned empress.

"She is different," Elysia said, taking a seat near the hearth. "She didn’t denounce you publicly. She didn’t curse the child. In royal standards, that’s basically affection."

Everyone chuckled, even Sarisa.

"She did smile at Kaelith," Malvoria noted. "A real smile, not a court-smile."

"That’s because Kaelith is unstoppable," Lara said with a smirk. "She could charm a basilisk."

Kaelith looked up. "Cake?"

"Still obsessed," Elysia muttered.

Sarisa laughed. "I think she deserves some after today."

"I’ll have the kitchens prepare something," Malvoria offered. "No nuts. No gold foil. No edible glitter this time, Elysia."

"It was one time," Elysia sighed.

A few minutes passed in easier conversation. The atmosphere had changed, the tension bled out into warm embers of family warmth and quiet exhaustion.

Servants moved more freely now. Sunlight slanted through the tall windows, warming the stone and velvet in soft morning gold.

Aliyah stirred and began to fuss. Sarisa rocked her gently, humming something old and soothing.

Malvoria watched them from the armrest where she’d perched beside Elysia.

She didn’t know what surprised her more—how natural Sarisa looked with the child in her arms, or how easily Lara hovered near them without fleeing.

Even now, her sister lingered close, occasionally brushing a hand over the blanket, her eyes drifting from horn to horn like she still couldn’t believe Aliyah was real.

"Are you worried she’ll come back?" Raveth asked from a quiet seat near the archway, her tone casual but not unkind.

"Yes," Sarisa said simply. "Eventually. She’ll want to speak to me. Alone. She always does when she’s conflicted."

"Are you going to let her?" Veylira asked, sipping tea like she’d been part of the conversation the whole time.

"I haven’t decided."

There was a beat of silence.

"Tell her to piss off," Lara said, yawning. "In Celestial."

"I’d rather not start a realm-wide diplomatic feud over grammar," Sarisa replied dryly.

Elysia chuckled. "Honestly? You wouldn’t be the first."

Malvoria stood then, adjusting her shoulder cape as Kaelith waddled toward her and wrapped herself around her leg.

"We’ll protect Aliyah," she said. "Whether she’s recognized or not. Whether your mother approves or not. You know that, right?"

Sarisa looked up at her.

"I do," she said. "And I’ll never forget it."

Later, after Aliyah had been taken to the nursery for a nap and the reception hall was cleared, Malvoria found herself standing in the west garden, breathing in the faint scent of fresh herbs and lavender.

She’d needed the air.

Kaelith ran small, wobbly circles around a patch of grass while Elysia stood nearby, tossing her a plush toy and catching her excited squeals with soft laughter.

Malvoria watched them, hands behind her back, gaze calm—but her thoughts tangled.

Sarisa’s apology had struck something in her.

She didn’t want Sarisa to apologize.

Not for her mother. Not for the queen. Not for daring to have a child with someone like Lara.

This place—this castle, this home—had always been meant for the unloved, the half-blooded, the wild and strange. And Aliyah, for all her newness, already belonged.

She would grow up with Kaelith.

That simple truth echoed in Malvoria’s mind like a soft bell—calm, certain, and gently powerful.

Malvoria stood in the shade of a stone archway, arms crossed loosely over her chest, her gaze fixed on Elysia and their daughter.

Kaelith was currently spinning in circles on the grass, arms flung wide like wings, her tiny boots leaving a faint trail of bent green.

Elysia knelt nearby, barefoot and relaxed in the warm breeze, occasionally catching Kaelith when she stumbled mid-spin.

Each time, Kaelith would collapse into Elysia’s arms in a fit of giggles, only to push away and begin spinning again, yelling, "Yaaah!" as though summoning some ancient power.

The sunlight made Kaelith’s silver curls gleam, and her tiny horns—so small they were often mistaken for decorative headbands.

Her laughter filled the air, light and uncontainable, and it struck Malvoria like a song she’d heard in dreams.

Elysia was laughing, too.

Not her composed chuckle, not her tired sigh of affection. A real laugh full-throated and bright, the kind that spilled out when she let go of everything.

Malvoria felt something warm loosen in her chest. The world, for once, didn’t need watching. There were no blades at their backs.

She stepped onto the grass.

Kaelith noticed her immediately and pointed one tiny, triumphant finger. "Mama!"

Elysia turned, brows raised. "I thought you were brooding."

"I was," Malvoria said, allowing a smirk. "You’re very loud."

"It’s called joy," Elysia said, holding out a hand without looking.

Malvoria took it.

The contact was brief, but grounding. Elysia’s fingers curled around hers for just a second before releasing. .

Kaelith stumbled toward them and plopped into the grass, face flushed and eyes wild with excitement. "Mama!" she said again, this time to Malvoria, and raised both arms in dramatic invitation.

"I suppose that’s my cue," Malvoria muttered and knelt down.

Kaelith practically launched herself into her arms.

For a moment, the rest of the world vanished.

Her little fists clung to Malvoria’s shoulders, her forehead rested against the crook of her neck, and her small body radiated heat from all her running.

"Yah," she whispered, almost sleepily.

"She misses Aliyah already," Elysia said, watching them with soft amusement.

Malvoria nodded. "She’ll have a friend. A sister, in all but blood."

"Chaos squared," Elysia said. "We might need to build a second nursery. With runes. And padding."

"I’ll start reinforcing the walls tomorrow."

Kaelith lifted her head just enough to say, "Cake?"

"She’s never going to let that go," Malvoria said, sighing.

"She is your daughter," Elysia replied.

Malvoria tilted her head. "Your sweet tooth is legendary."

"My sweet tooth has taste. Your daughter will try to eat soap if it smells like berries."

"She did that once."

"She did it twice."

Kaelith yawned.

Then, out of nowhere, she reached up, grabbed both sides of Malvoria’s face, and squished them together with great force. Her nose scrunched. "Mama funny."

Elysia burst out laughing. freёnovelkiss.com

Malvoria allowed her face to be manhandled for exactly three seconds before gently prying Kaelith’s fingers away. "You’re lucky I love you," she muttered.

Kaelith giggled and flopped back onto the grass, now too tired to move but not willing to sleep.

Elysia leaned back on her hands, looking up at the sky. "It’s strange."

"What is?"

"How fast it’s all gone. She was just a bundle last season. Now she’s talking. Running. Demanding dessert from visiting royalty."

Malvoria’s gaze softened.

"She’s changing everything."

"She already has."

They were quiet for a moment.

Kaelith rolled over and tugged a piece of grass from the ground with a determined grunt.

"You think we’re doing alright?" Elysia asked, not looking at her.

Malvoria blinked.

It wasn’t like Elysia to voice doubt out loud. Not like that. Not when it was just the two of them.

She sat beside her, one hand brushing Kaelith’s curls out of her face.

"I think," Malvoria said, "that we’ve survived hell, betrayal, war. And somehow we ended up here."

Elysia tilted her head, smiling a little. "So... yes?"

"Yes," Malvoria said simply. "We’re doing more than alright."

Kaelith crawled over them both and lay across their laps. Elysia snorted and adjusted her so she didn’t smother herself in robes.

Malvoria let her weight settle in.

The breeze rustled the trees.

Aliyah was asleep in the nursery. Sarisa was probably resting, or maybe pretending to rest while reading reports.

The castle was quiet.

The family was whole.

And Malvoria, for once, didn’t feel the need to check the horizon for danger.

Instead, she leaned back on one hand, watching the light shift on Elysia’s cheek.

"What?" Elysia asked, catching her gaze.

"Nothing," Malvoria murmured.