I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 307: Plan the perfect date

The castle had finally, blessedly, grown quiet. With Elysia and Kaelith both napping—one curled in the sun-drenched bed, the other sprawled like a baby starfish in her crib—Malvoria felt, for the first time in days, the full, dazzling freedom of solitude.

But instead of using it to catch up on paperwork or wage silent war with the mountain of unread reports on her desk, she settled at the small table by the window with parchment, ink, and a singular purpose: to plan the perfect date.

It had been too long since they’d had time for just the two of them. Not a family walk, not a stolen moment in the garden, not a banquet where one of them was required to be regal while the other kept Kaelith from juggling bread rolls.

Malvoria wanted something that belonged only to Elysia and her—a day of laughter, surprise, and a view that would take Elysia’s breath away.

But what? She’d lived her entire life in castles, cities, on bloodstained battlefields and in lush demon gardens.

None of those seemed quite right. Not for Elysia, who saw beauty in the curve of a petal, in starlight falling on river water, in things that reminded Malvoria that the world could be soft.

No. She needed something Elysia had never seen. Somewhere wild and bright and secret.

Malvoria tapped her quill thoughtfully, then looked up as the solution struck her like a spark to kindling: Saelira.

Her grandmother had traveled more than anyone alive—centuries spent wandering continents, collecting oddities and secrets. If anyone could suggest the most beautiful, hidden place in all the realms, it would be Saelira.

With purpose, Malvoria rose, sweeping through the castle halls and down into the west wing where Saelira’s suite sprawled like an untamed jungle filled with strange vines.

Books stacked in haphazard towers, velvet pillows, and an enormous chaise where Saelira now lounged, eyes half-closed, a cup of spiced wine dangling from her long fingers.

She looked every inch the laziest royal grandmother in history. And yet, Malvoria suspected, that was only an illusion. No one survived as long as Saelira by actually napping through life.

Malvoria rapped gently on the open door. "Grandma. May I disturb your, ah, important business?"

Saelira cracked one eye, an expression of feigned suffering crossing her face. "Malvoria, darling, if you must interrupt my busy schedule of napping and ignoring state business, I hope it’s for something worthy. The last person who came to me wanted advice on tea blends. I banished her to the kitchens for a week."

Malvoria smirked and glided in, setting herself on a mound of embroidered cushions. "This is more interesting. I need your expertise."

Saelira sat up a little, interest piqued. "My expertise is vast and seldom appreciated. Ask."

Malvoria cleared her throat, realizing how much she wanted this to be perfect. "I want to take Elysia on a date. Somewhere beautiful—magical, even. Not just a palace garden or a public lake. Somewhere you know, someplace you’ve seen in your travels. I want her to feel... awed. And I want it to be just us, for a day."

Saelira’s lips curled upward, sly and approving. "Finally! You remember what it means to court someone. I worried you’d let romance die after the child started ruling your household."

Malvoria flushed but pressed on. "So, do you have a suggestion? I want her to remember this day for the rest of her life."

Saelira tapped her chin, pretending to ponder. "There are wonders, of course... The crystalline forest in the north, where the trees ring with music when the wind blows. The mirrored caverns beneath the Sighing Mountains. The floating gardens above Lake Veyra, where the lotuses open only for lovers who arrive hand in hand..."

Malvoria’s heart leapt. "All of that sounds perfect."

Saelira eyed her, devilish. "But you want specifics. And you want teleportation—no long journeys, no days away from your daughter. A quick adventure, then back to the castle before bedtime?"

"Yes," Malvoria admitted. "If you know how to set a teleportation circle there—"

"I know how," Saelira said airily. "But why should I just give up my best secrets? Surely there’s something in it for me."

Malvoria’s eyes narrowed. "You’re extorting your own granddaughter?"

Saelira laughed. "Darling, you should thank me. Nothing memorable ever comes without a price. Besides, I’m bored. What will you trade for my knowledge?"

Malvoria wracked her brain. "What do you want? Gold? A new chaise lounge? I can have the castle chef make those lemon cakes you like—"

Saelira waved her hand dismissively. "I have enough gold. Lemon cakes are fleeting. No, no... I want something interesting. I want... a day with Kaelith. Unsupervised."

Malvoria stared. "Unsupervised? You want to babysit Kaelith?"

Saelira’s smile was all teeth. "Don’t look so shocked. That child has more potential for chaos than anyone since your mother was small. It will amuse me—and perhaps teach you a thing or two about letting go."

Malvoria considered protesting, but something in her grandmother’s eyes warned her that resistance was futile. Besides, Kaelith adored her great-grandmother, and Saelira’s magic was strong enough to keep her safe from anything except herself.

"Fine," Malvoria said, resigned. "You can have her for a day. But if you turn her into a frog or teach her how to set booby traps—"

"I make no promises," Saelira said, looking almost innocent. "Now, listen closely. There’s a waterfall valley on the edge of the Old Realms—Veilmist Falls. The air is so clear it’s like breathing pure magic, and the moss on the rocks glows silver at dusk." Saelira paused for dramatic effect.

"Wildflowers everywhere. The stars come out early, and the river runs so cold and bright that you can see the sky reflected in it. There’s a teleportation anchor I left there centuries ago, hidden in a standing stone shaped like a crescent moon. Take a bit of this—"

She plucked a gleaming, opalescent shard from a box beside her and pressed it into Malvoria’s palm— "and place it in the center of your teleportation circle. It will do the rest."

Malvoria’s eyes widened in awe. "Saelira, that sounds... incredible."

Saelira beamed, delighted by her own legend. "It is. But you must promise not to take anyone else. It’s for lovers and ghosts. If you take Kaelith, the fish will flee the river in terror."

Malvoria barked a laugh. "Thank you. Truly."

Saelira regarded her a moment, then her expression softened. "Make it count, Malvoria. We immortals forget, sometimes, how rare it is to truly see someone. Elysia deserves to be seen."

"I know," Malvoria whispered, tucking the shard away.

She rose to leave, already calculating what to pack—wine, a blanket, maybe Elysia’s favorite book. Saelira’s voice followed her out.

"And if you want the flowers to sing at dusk, say my name three times while you’re there!"

Malvoria turned and saluted, her spirits lighter than they’d been in months.

She slipped back upstairs, past the nursery—quiet, with Kaelith and Elysia both lost to dreams. She perched on the end of the bed, watching her wife sleep.

Elysia’s hair was a tangle of sunlight, her mouth relaxed in a way it never was when awake, worry lines smoothed by rest. Malvoria reached out, gently tucking a stray lock behind Elysia’s ear.

"Tomorrow," she whispered. "I’m going to show you something you’ve never seen."