I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 310: Let’s explore

Malvoria raised an eyebrow, unwrapping a berry tart. "That’s not a threat. That’s a promise."

Elysia’s eyes flashed with the spark Malvoria loved most—half-daring, half-tender. "A dangerous promise, Your Majesty."

She plucked a blossom from the grass, rolling it between her fingers, then looked up at the valley stretched before them sunlit wildflowers, the faint glint of dew still lingering on the moss, the hush of the world broken only by the distant roar of the falls.

"It’s so beautiful here. And we just arrived... Let’s explore. I want to see every inch before lunch."

Malvoria smiled, a warm surge of relief and excitement rising within her. "As you command, Princess."

Elysia stood, tugging Malvoria up with her. For a moment, Malvoria let herself be led, feeling the gentle pressure of Elysia’s fingers intertwined with hers, grounding her as they picked their way across the soft earth.

They wandered through the wildflower fields, moving slowly, savoring the scent of the blooms and the rich, vibrant colors—violet, gold, blue, and a crimson so deep it seemed spun from dusk itself.

Elysia bent low, running her hand across the petals, then twirling, her laughter ringing out as she held a cluster of silver-petaled flowers above her head like a makeshift crown.

"Try one," Elysia called, tossing a blossom at Malvoria.

Malvoria caught it and tucked it behind her ear, affecting a regal pose. "How do I look?"

"Like the world’s most dangerous nymph," Elysia said, cheeks flushed. "A queen lost in the wilds, who’d never bow to anyone but her own heart."

Malvoria stepped close, drawing Elysia into her arms. "I’d bow to you."

Elysia smiled, her eyes softer now. "Good. Because I only plan to rule your heart today."

They strolled beneath the willow trees, the branches trailing in the wind. Sunlight filtered down in shafts, painting patterns across their skin.

At the edge of the river, Malvoria pointed out stones carved by water, smooth and glistening in the current, each one a thousand years in the making.

Elysia knelt and dipped her fingers in, shivering at the chill. "It’s like holding moonlight." She looked up, mischievous.

"You know, when I was a child, I used to think rivers held all the world’s secrets. If you were brave enough to dive in, you’d come out changed."

Malvoria crouched beside her, brushing her knuckles across Elysia’s cheek. "You change the world every time you step into it. River or not."

Elysia ducked her head, flustered and pleased. "You’re shameless."

"Only for you," Malvoria whispered, then pressed a kiss to the tip of Elysia’s nose, a gentle promise hidden in the touch.

They followed the river’s bend, feet bare in the grass, Elysia stopping now and then to point out wild strawberries nestled in the moss.

She fed one to Malvoria, juice dripping from her fingertips, and Malvoria caught her hand, sucking the sweetness away, letting her tongue linger on Elysia’s skin.

Elysia gasped, her breath coming fast, and for a moment the world spun a little faster, the heat between them blooming like the flowers at their feet.

Malvoria traced the line of Elysia’s jaw with a thumb. "Still want to explore?"

Elysia caught her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes flickering with heat. "There’s so much to see," she whispered, though her gaze never left Malvoria’s lips. "But maybe we take a little detour?"

Malvoria grinned and pulled her close, their bodies aligning in the cool shadow of a willow. Elysia’s fingers twisted in Malvoria’s hair, their mouths meeting in a kiss that was slow at first—delicate as the morning light—then deepened, hungry and sure.

The river rushed past behind them, the falls thundering in the distance, but in that moment, Malvoria could hear nothing but Elysia’s soft sighs and the fierce thrum of her own heart.

Elysia drew back, laughing breathlessly. "If this place is enchanted, we might never leave."

Malvoria pressed their foreheads together. "Would that be so bad?"

Elysia grinned, pressing a kiss to Malvoria’s jaw, then down the column of her throat. "Maybe not."

The air grew warmer as they moved on, Elysia’s hand trailing along Malvoria’s arm, her thumb brushing lazy circles into her skin.

They found a patch of wild mint growing by the bank, and Elysia picked a sprig, tucking it behind Malvoria’s ear beside the flower.

"There," she said, tilting her head to admire. "Now you look like the world’s most seductive garden spirit."

Malvoria’s cheeks warmed, but she held Elysia’s gaze, letting the admiration linger. "And you look like temptation itself."

They walked, sometimes silent, sometimes trading memories and whispered confessions—the silly, the solemn, the deeply private.

Elysia told Malvoria about a dream she’d had as a child, to find a secret glade with a hidden pond and a thousand colored birds.

They stumbled on a hollow where the moss seemed to glow from within, silver and pale blue, lighting their feet as they walked. Elysia knelt, trailing her fingers through the glowing greenery. "I could live here," she said softly.

Malvoria dropped beside her, circling Elysia’s waist with her arms, nuzzling the crook of her neck. "Maybe we come back every year," she suggested, voice low, "just us."

Elysia leaned back, letting Malvoria hold her. "A new tradition."

For a while, they lay together in the soft moss, tracing the patterns of clouds drifting by overhead.

Elysia threaded their fingers, her touch both sweet and hungry, her skin cool in the breeze but flushed where Malvoria’s mouth found it.

Malvoria’s hand slipped beneath the edge of Elysia’s tunic, palm splayed on her waist. "Too cold?" she whispered, but Elysia just shivered, arching into her touch.

"Not if you keep doing that," Elysia murmured, and pulled Malvoria down into another kiss—this one slow, deep, full of longing.

Malvoria let herself be undone, savoring the taste and texture of Elysia’s lips, the press of their bodies as the world narrowed to the warmth between them.

They rolled, laughing, grass tangled in their hair, and Malvoria found herself pinned beneath Elysia, gazing up at her wife’s flushed, radiant face.

Elysia smiled, bending to press a kiss to Malvoria’s collarbone, then whispered, "If we keep going, we might never make it to lunch."

Malvoria growled, flipping their positions in a smooth motion, and Elysia let out a surprised giggle. "Let’s call this an appetizer."

Their laughter echoed in the quiet valley, wild and unguarded. For a long, sun-dappled moment, the world was nothing but skin and heat, the press of fingers on hips, the meeting of mouths and whispered names.

Time slowed and spun, the scent of wild mint mingling with the salty taste of sweat and berry, the soft gasp of pleasure buried in the crook of a neck.

Finally, breathless, Elysia nudged Malvoria’s shoulder. "We’re going to get grass stains on everything."

Malvoria propped herself up on one elbow, eyes dark with affection. "We’ll say it’s the mark of a good date."

Elysia laughed and cupped Malvoria’s cheek, her thumb tracing gentle circles. "You make me feel like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Only us."

Malvoria kissed her softly. "It doesn’t. Not today."

They sprawled in the moss for a while, letting their bodies cool, trading kisses and gentle words, fingers tangled in each other’s hair.

The sun climbed higher, the air warming, and somewhere in the distance a bird trilled—a liquid, wild song that set Elysia’s heart alight.

Eventually, Elysia sat up, smoothing her tangled hair. She surveyed the valley, eyes alight with wonder and satisfaction. "So this is what it feels like to run away," she said quietly.

Malvoria propped her chin on her hand. "Run away with me, then."

Elysia flashed her a wicked smile. "Maybe I already have."

They stood, brushing grass from their clothes, and made their way back to their picnic, arms slung around each other’s waists.

Malvoria poured another glass of wine, watching Elysia nibble a berry tart, lips stained deep purple.

"Beautiful," Malvoria said, reaching to wipe away a smear of juice with her thumb.

Elysia caught her hand, kissing her palm. "You spoil me."

"It’s my favorite hobby," Malvoria replied, eyes warm.

They ate in companionable silence, sharing food and glances, the peace between them as tangible as sunlight. Elysia’s laughter bubbled up again as Malvoria tried—and failed—to win a round of cards, insisting the deck was enchanted.

When at last their hunger was sated and the shadows grew shorter on the grass, Elysia stretched, arching her back, her gaze turning to the river.

She grinned, catching Malvoria’s eye—a look both teasing and challenging.

"Well, Queen Malvoria," she said, rising to her feet and shedding her tunic with a smooth, practiced motion that left Malvoria momentarily speechless, "I believe it’s time for a swim."

Her hair tumbled down her back, the scandalous red swimsuit a blazing invitation. She glanced over her shoulder, lips parted in a smile equal parts sweet and wicked.

"Now swim time."

Malvoria, caught between awe and desire, found herself scrambling to follow, heart pounding with anticipation for everything that was yet to come.