I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 302: Mama mine

When Malvoria finally extricated herself from Kaelith’s ticklish grip and managed to restore some semblance of dignity, she straightened her tunic, shook out her hair, and offered Elysia her hand.

"Lunch?" she suggested, voice teasing, eyes bright.

Elysia grinned, tucking Kaelith’s wild curls back under her paper crown. "Definitely. Before this one starts demanding cake again and we’re forced to call it a meal."

Kaelith, safely back in Elysia’s arms, shot Malvoria a suspicious look, as if daring her to make another move. "Mama mine," she mumbled, cheeks flushed, clutching Elysia’s arm like a conqueror defending her prize.

Malvoria raised both hands in mock surrender. "Alright, you win—for now. But Elysia’s not a toy, Kaelith. You do have to share."

Kaelith’s little brow furrowed. She didn’t understand sharing—not when it came to her favorite person in the world.

With a dramatic flourish, she pressed her cheek against Elysia’s shoulder and glared up at Malvoria, as if expecting betrayal at any moment.

"She gets this from your side," Malvoria stage-whispered as they walked the corridor, sunlight painting shifting patterns on the flagstones.

Elysia just snorted, shifting Kaelith to her hip. "Oh, I’m sure the obsession is inherited from the Demon Queen herself. Don’t try to pin this on me."

Together, they stepped out into the great hall and began the short walk to the dining room, their hands brushing together every few steps—a silent promise, even as Kaelith’s hold on Elysia remained fierce and unyielding.

The castle’s mid-day hum was everywhere: the distant clatter of kitchen staff preparing too many courses, the laughter of a few guards off-duty in the courtyard, the faint strum of someone playing a stringed instrument down one of the galleries.

Malvoria realized that, despite everything, the walls felt alive, like the castle itself had learned to breathe with them.

As they walked, Kaelith kept a wary eye on Malvoria, occasionally tightening her grip on Elysia’s tunic, as if expecting another daring rescue attempt.

"I think you’ve been overthrown, Mal," Elysia teased, glancing over her shoulder with a sly grin.

Malvoria sighed theatrically. "I suppose I’ll have to find a new wife. Maybe a quieter one. Someone who doesn’t giggle at my misfortunes."

"Good luck," Elysia replied, laughing. "I’m one of a kind."

"And you’re my kind," Malvoria said, loud enough for Kaelith to hear.

Kaelith, scandalized, immediately inserted herself between them, shooting Malvoria a look of warning. "No!" she declared, voice high and indignant. "Mine, Mama!"

Malvoria smirked, lowering herself to Kaelith’s eye level. "Is that so, little dragon?"

Kaelith nodded, eyes narrowed with stubbornness.

"Well then," Malvoria said with exaggerated gravity, "I guess I’ll have to challenge you to a duel after lunch. For Elysia’s hand, of course."

Elysia, shaking with laughter, gave up any pretense of seriousness. "If you two start throwing food at each other, I’m leaving you both to the mercy of the kitchen staff."

They reached the dining room, Kaelith still clinging, now suspiciously quiet as if planning her next defensive maneuver.

Inside, the room was already buzzing. Sarisa sat at the far end, Aliyah cradled in her arms, while Lara lounged beside her with her boots on the bench and a dangerous smile on her lips—already halfway through a plate of fruit.

The sunlight caught on Aliyah’s dark curls and tiny horns as she slept, oblivious to the mayhem that seemed to define her family.

At the center of the table, a spread of breads, cheeses, roasted meats, and fruit gleamed invitingly, the smells rich and comforting.

The only empty seats belonged to Raveth and Veylira—absent for reasons that were both obvious and, frankly, unnecessary to dwell on.

Malvoria arched an eyebrow at the empty seats as she helped Elysia and Kaelith settle. "Veylira and Raveth must be off—well, being newlyweds."

Lara snorted. "That’s one way to put it. If I hear any more poetry coming from Veylira’s window, I’m defecting to the Celestian palace."

Sarisa gave Lara a look—equal parts affection and exasperation. "Don’t threaten me with a good time. The high priestess would love to recruit you."

Kaelith ignored the adults, crawling into Elysia’s lap and clinging there like a particularly affectionate barnacle. Aliyah, stirring at the commotion, made a small noise, and Sarisa began rocking her gently.

Malvoria sat down beside Elysia, giving Kaelith a pointed look. "If you don’t let me have at least a piece of your mother for lunch, I’m going to eat all the honey rolls myself."

Kaelith’s eyes went wide. She looked from Malvoria to the rolls, then back, as if weighing the threat with the seriousness of a seasoned diplomat.

"Mine," she said again, but this time with a hint of uncertainty.

Lara grinned. "Looks like the smallest warlord in the room is winning."

Elysia attempted to disentangle herself just enough to pour wine for herself and Malvoria.

"She’s been like this all morning," she said, not quite hiding her amusement. "I can’t take two steps without a Kaelith-shaped shadow."

"It’s the age," Sarisa said, smiling tiredly. "Aliyah will be there soon enough. Enjoy your independence while you can."

Malvoria reached for Elysia’s hand beneath the table, squeezing gently—a silent reassurance that she was content with the chaos.

The meal began in its usual fashion: Kaelith demanding bites of everything Elysia ate, Aliyah fussing only to fall instantly asleep once Sarisa started humming, and Lara launching into a wildly exaggerated story about the last time she was nearly poisoned by a Celestian dessert.

"I’m telling you," Lara insisted, "the filling moved on its own. No honest baker can convince me that was a blessing from the stars."

Sarisa rolled her eyes. "That was candied honeyfruit. It wiggles when it’s fresh."

"That’s what they want you to think," Lara replied, waving a fork with great flourish. "But I’ve seen demon fungus, and this was suspiciously similar."

Kaelith, for her part, found Lara’s antics fascinating, and started repeating, "Fungus! Fungus!" at regular intervals, banging her tiny spoon on the table for emphasis.

Elysia burst out laughing, nearly spilling her wine.

Malvoria shook her head, unable to suppress a smile. "Wonderful. Now she’ll be talking about fungus for weeks."

"Better than her new favorite word," Elysia muttered, glancing at Malvoria. "If she starts shouting ’mine’ at the next banquet, I’m blaming you."

Kaelith, seizing her moment, pressed her face into Elysia’s side and declared, "Mama. Mine."

The entire table dissolved into laughter.

Even Aliyah, barely awake, managed a tiny, amused grunt.

They ate and joked, the kind of meal that felt stitched together from a hundred private jokes and gentle arguments, the kind that filled rooms with belonging.

Malvoria leaned back at one point, watching the scene unfold: Lara pretending to duel Kaelith with a breadstick, Sarisa humming a lullaby while rocking Aliyah, Elysia dabbing spilled juice off Kaelith’s chin, all of them alive with light and love and the easy familiarity that could only come from surviving chaos together.

Eventually, the laughter faded into a comfortable quiet, and Kaelith, full and finally tired from all her possessive declarations, climbed into Malvoria’s lap—almost as if she’d forgotten her own war for Elysia’s exclusive attention. She rested her head on Malvoria’s shoulder, eyes half-closed.

"See?" Malvoria whispered, kissing her daughter’s forehead. "You can have us both."

Kaelith sighed, a tiny fist closing around Malvoria’s braid, and nodded sleepily.

Across the table, Lara met Malvoria’s eyes and smirked. "You’re losing your touch, Queen. Next thing you know, she’ll be ruling the kingdom."

Malvoria grinned back. "Let her try. I could use a vacation."

The meal wound down, plates cleared and dessert served though Kaelith, already dozing in Malvoria’s arms, missed the first slices of honey cake, much to her later chagrin.

As the family drifted off—Sarisa carrying Aliyah to the nursery, Lara off to spar with an unlucky guard—Malvoria lingered a moment in the empty dining hall with Elysia and Kaelith.

Elysia pressed her hand to Malvoria’s cheek, eyes soft. "You know, you’re really good at this."

"At what?"

"At loving her. At loving all of us."

Malvoria’s heart squeezed. "That’s easy. You make it easy."

Elysia’s smile deepened, soft and a little awed, but the moment was interrupted by a small, determined grunt from the bundle in Malvoria’s arms.

Kaelith, still half asleep, wriggled and stretched, her tiny fists pushing at Malvoria’s collar. "Cake," she mumbled, as if the word alone might conjure dessert straight into her mouth.

Malvoria bit back a laugh. "You’ve just had lunch, little dragon. Cake comes later."

Kaelith blinked, brow furrowed as if this were a great injustice. She looked up at Elysia and said with great seriousness, "Mine."

Elysia snorted and ruffled Kaelith’s hair. "We know, love. Mama’s not going anywhere."

Kaelith, reassured, seemed to accept this—for all of two seconds. Then, suddenly energized, she lifted her head, eyes wide and hopeful. "Yah?" It was her special way of saying Aliyah’s name.

Malvoria grinned, shifting Kaelith on her hip. "Yes, we’ll see Aliyah soon. But first, maybe a nap for little queens?"

Kaelith pouted but yawned, her eyelids already drooping. She rested her head on Malvoria’s shoulder again, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Mama, cake, yah," a list of her life’s great loves.

Elysia and Malvoria exchanged a glance, warm with shared laughter. In a world full of chaos and trouble, there was nothing more perfect than this little moment—just the three of them, love and mischief stitched between every heartbeat.