I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 180: Important information

The prisoner glared at her with a hatred so potent it almost felt physical like the air in the cell had thickened with it.

His wrists were chained to the stone wall behind him, but there was nothing cowed in his posture. He sat upright, defiant, blood dried at the corner of his mouth from whatever scuffle he’d had with the guards earlier.

"You," he spat again, as if the word tasted foul. "You demon bitch. You’ve twisted her. You think no one notices what you’ve done? How you’ve corrupted our princess with your poison?"

Malvoria didn’t flinch.

She simply stood there, calm and tall, her crimson cloak whispering as it settled around her boots. The dim light of the torch sconces made her eyes gleam gold like the edges of a blade.

She said nothing at first.

Let him spew.

Let him dig his own hole.

"You took her from us," he growled. "You made her forget who she is. She was supposed to fight you. And now you have her dressed in silk and sleeping in your bed like a pet. Like some spoiled little concubine."

Malvoria’s patience, already thin from being yanked out of bed, stretched to its final thread.

Her voice, when it came, was quiet. Lethal.

"You are speaking about your future queen."

"She’s not my queen," he snarled. "She’s ours. The last hope for humans to break free of demon filth like you."

Malvoria’s fingers curled around the small glass vial at her side.

She pulled it from her pouch and held it up between them, letting the dim dungeon light catch on the thick silver swirl inside the bottle.

The truth serum shimmered, thick and viscous like molten silver.

The prisoner faltered not much, but enough to make Malvoria’s mouth tilt upward into something not quite a smile.

"I have very little interest in your hatred," she said coolly. "But I have questions. And you’re going to answer them."

"Like hell I am."

She uncorked the vial with a soft pop, and the scent of crushed starlight and iron filled the air—a strange, impossible smell that didn’t belong in this world.

The man flinched, and she stepped forward slowly, crouching to his eye level. Her voice dropped to a whisper that cut through the stone like wire.

"You stabbed one of my guards and came here demanding my wife. You want her so badly? Then let me help you deliver your message properly."

She gripped his jaw with a gloved hand, forcing his mouth open, and poured the shimmering contents of the vial onto his tongue before he could scream.

He fought, of course.

Twisted.

Coughed.

But the serum, once swallowed, bloomed instantly.

His eyes rolled back for a breathless moment, then slammed forward with terrifying focus.

The truth had no patience for pride.

And neither did Malvoria.

"Speak," she ordered.

His mouth worked against his will, the magic forcing itself past clenched teeth.

"I was sent," he choked. "By a faction. Human. Rebel."

Malvoria remained still.

"Operating in secret for months. Recruiting. Hidden cells. Rotting at your edges."

"Where are they based?" she asked sharply.

"I don’t know," he hissed. "We only get orders from a central courier. Messages left in coded drops. No direct names."

"Who leads you?"

"Unknown. No face. No name. Just a voice. A symbol a white phoenix split down the center."

Malvoria’s eyes narrowed.

New. And dangerous.

"What are they planning?"

His breath hitched. The serum worked in layers—it broke resistance in degrees. Sometimes the deeper truths needed more time.

"I don’t know the full plan. I wasn’t told. Only fragments. Sabotage. Incitement. A blow to demon rule."

"When?"

"Soon. A season? Maybe weeks. There’s movement. Preparation. But the timing is kept secret."

Malvoria clenched her jaw. "And Elysia?"

The man laughed bitterly, as if her name burned even now. "She was never supposed to surrender. We had plans. Hopes. And then you took her. Stole her with your words and your power and your face."

The last word dripped with venom.

"I came because they’re afraid," he went on. "They think she’s too far gone. But some still think she could be... swayed. Pulled back to the cause. If she saw what we’re doing."

"Which is what?"

He bared his teeth, the serum forcing his honesty even as it cut at him. "A rising. Blood and fire. A reckoning."

"And Zera?" Malvoria’s voice was low, steady.

The air shifted.

He looked her dead in the eye.

"She’s with us."

The silence that followed that sentence wasn’t empty—it was thunder held between breaths.

Malvoria stared at him, unmoving, as the words buried themselves beneath her ribs.

Zera.

The quiet, bold-eyed soldier.

The one who stood too close to Elysia in the early days.

The one Malvoria had suspected, watched, tested—and never fully trusted.

The one who knew Elysia. Knew her heart, her past, her softest spots.

Zera... was involved.

"You’re sure?" Malvoria asked, voice quieter now. Cold.

"She came to meetings. Gave us intel. Said she knew the cracks in the castle’s defenses. That the time would come. That she’d be ready."

Malvoria stood slowly, feeling something dark stir in her chest. Not rage—not yet. Not betrayal. Something deeper.

Fear.

Not for herself. She had lived through blood and ruin. She had survived coups and warlords and the withering gaze of empires.

But for Elysia?

This was different.

This was targeted.

Calculated.

Zera wasn’t just part of the rebellion she was positioned.

Inside the castle.

Inside Elysia’s life.

Malvoria stepped back and looked at the prisoner. He was shaking now, the serum draining him.

"Put him in solitary," she ordered. "Keep three guards outside his cell at all times. Rotate every four hours. No contact. No visitors. I want his food tested. His dreams monitored."

A guard nodded sharply, already stepping in.

As she turned to leave, the man called after her, voice hoarse.

"You can’t keep her forever, you know."

Malvoria stopped at the cell door.

"She’s human. She’ll remember where she came from. And when she does—she’ll burn this place down from the inside."

Malvoria turned slowly.

And smiled.

Not a kind smile.

Not a cruel one.

A dangerous one.

"She can burn anything she likes," she said. "And I will build it again for her, twice as strong."

She stepped out, the door slamming behind her with finality.

But the echo of that cold knot in her chest remained.

Zera.

This changed everything.

The time for patience had just ended.

And now it was time to prepare for what was going to happen.