I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 313: I wish this would never end

Elysia sprawled on the sun-warmed grass, letting her breath even out, a lazy smile tugging at her lips as Malvoria rolled onto her side, one hand tracing idle patterns along Elysia’s stomach.

For a long moment, the only sounds were the burble of the river, the distant roar of the falls, and the soft, synchronized thud of their hearts.

It felt almost impossible that the rest of the world still existed, that there were kingdoms to run and babies to chase and endless lists of responsibilities waiting for them back home.

Eventually, Elysia let out a contented sigh, rolling onto her back to gaze at the pale blue sky above. "If I could bottle this feeling," she murmured, "I’d never have a bad day again."

Malvoria propped herself up on one elbow, smiling down at her. "We’d be banned from every royal function for inappropriate conduct in public parks."

Elysia’s laughter rang out, clear and bright. "They’d have to invent new rules just for us."

"Rule number one: don’t let the queen and her consort out unsupervised."

Elysia grinned, stretching languidly. "That might be for the best, honestly."

They lingered in the soft grass a little longer before the breeze sent a chill skittering over Elysia’s bare skin, making her shiver.

With a reluctant groan, she sat up, reaching for her clothes—a soft cotton tunic, loose trousers, and the comfortable blue wrap that Malvoria always claimed made her look like "summer royalty."

Malvoria, of course, dressed with the casual elegance of someone who’d worn armor to breakfast and velvet to bed. She was buttoning her shirt when Elysia glanced over, eyes full of mischief.

"What are you thinking?" Malvoria asked, pulling her hair back with a tie and arching one brow.

Elysia tilted her head, pretending to consider. "Just that you look a little too good for someone who’s supposed to be thoroughly ravished."

Malvoria’s cheeks went pink, but her smile was sly. "And you look like you’ve just committed several crimes of passion."

Elysia gasped in mock horror. "Me? I’m innocent! A pure, law-abiding citizen!"

Malvoria laughed and leaned in, stealing a quick kiss. "You’re as innocent as Kaelith when she claims she didn’t eat the last tart."

Elysia rolled her eyes. "She’s going to be the downfall of this dynasty. I can already see her in ten years, leading a rebellion over missing desserts."

"Gods help us," Malvoria said fervently, gathering their picnic basket and blanket.

They made their way back to the shaded clearing where they’d left their food, Elysia humming as she went, feeling as light and loose as if she’d spent the afternoon napping in a field of poppies.

She plopped down cross-legged, grabbing a handful of grapes and tossing one at Malvoria, who caught it deftly in her mouth.

"Show-off," Elysia teased, snatching a piece of bread for herself.

"It’s one of my lesser-known royal talents," Malvoria said with a mock bow. "Next I’ll juggle three oranges and a wine bottle while reciting demon law."

Elysia snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. "I’d pay to see that."

Malvoria raised an eyebrow. "Careful. I might hold you to it. If Kaelith hears about this, she’ll expect me to juggle at every family dinner."

Elysia shook her head, breaking off a bit of cheese. "She’ll be teaching herself pyrotechnics before her next birthday, and then the castle will really be in trouble."

Malvoria groaned. "You know, sometimes I look at her and think, ’One of you is enough for a lifetime.’"

Elysia grinned, sliding a berry tart onto Malvoria’s plate. "That brings up an important point. Remind me again why we thought having even one child was a good idea?"

Malvoria’s eyes widened, as if the prospect of another was genuinely terrifying. "A moment of temporary insanity. And don’t even think about a second one, Elysia. I barely survived Kaelith’s teething, let alone the idea of two of them plotting against us."

Elysia laughed so hard she nearly choked on her tart. "Two Kaeliths! The gods would never forgive us. The walls of the castle would be nothing but scribbled fire runes and forbidden snack hoards."

Malvoria held up her hands in mock surrender. "If you ever suggest it, I’ll flee to the mountains and become a hermit. You’ll find me living in a cave, hiding from tiny, sticky hands."

Elysia wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "I can picture it now. The legendary Demon Queen, hiding under a pile of goats and baked goods, terrified of her own offspring."

They ate in between snatches of laughter, stories of childhood mischief, and a running tally of Kaelith’s most chaotic moments.

"She’s too smart for her own good," Elysia said fondly, picking at the remains of the picnic.

"She’s yours," Malvoria countered, but her smile was soft, full of pride.

Elysia nudged Malvoria’s foot with her own, her expression turning thoughtful. "Do you ever think about the future?"

Malvoria looked out at the river, her eyes distant for a moment. "Sometimes. I see her grown up—strong, wild, stubborn as hell, maybe with a little more sense than either of us had at her age."

She reached for Elysia’s hand, threading their fingers together. "But for now, I’m just grateful for this. For you. For her. For today."

Elysia squeezed her hand, feeling her heart ache with a kind of gentle, overwhelming love. "Me too."

They sat together, soaking up the sun, trading secrets and kisses, the afternoon slipping by in a haze of warmth and contentment.

Elysia watched the light shifting on Malvoria’s face, saw the tension of the past months fall away, replaced by something softer, easier.

As the sun began its slow descent toward the western hills, they packed away the remains of their feast, leaving only a few crumbs for the birds.

Elysia stretched, stifling a yawn, and stood, brushing grass from her trousers.

"Race you to the water?" she challenged, arching a brow.

Malvoria smirked. "You’re on."

They dashed to the river’s edge, laughing as Elysia splashed Malvoria and Malvoria retaliated by scooping Elysia into her arms and spinning her until she was dizzy with laughter.

They tumbled into the shallow water together, clothes and all, letting the current carry away their worries.

Eventually, they dragged themselves back to the blanket, dripping and breathless, lying side by side to dry in the last rays of the sun.

"Next time," Elysia said, breathless, "maybe we just build a little cabin here and never go home."

Malvoria traced a finger along Elysia’s jaw, her smile bittersweet. "As long as there’s you, and sunshine, and maybe a bakery nearby, I could be persuaded."

They lay together as dusk deepened, listening to the song of the falls and the crickets waking in the underbrush.

Elysia rolled onto her side, resting her head on Malvoria’s chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of her heart.

"I wish this would never end," she whispered.

Malvoria pressed a kiss to her hair. "Then let’s never let it.