I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 197: Don’t you ever do that again

The moment the door shut behind them, Elysia felt the weight of the world lift just slightly.

Not entirely.

But enough to breathe.

The room was still warm from earlier. Golden candlelight flickered across the polished obsidian floors and soft, plum-colored drapes.

It should have felt surreal, stepping from a battlefield to this velvet quiet, silk sheets, perfumed shadows but instead, it felt like the only real thing left in her universe.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her legs still aching, her chest tight, the echo of battle ringing in her ears like a fading scream. But the pain... the wound... it was gone.

The healers had done their work with ruthless efficiency. Not even a scar remained.

Still, something in her trembled.

And then Malvoria was there.

She didn’t say anything at first.

She didn’t need to.

She just stepped forward and knelt—again—this time not with anger, not with guilt, but with reverence. As if Elysia had become something holy. Something she couldn’t bear to lose.

And she wrapped her arms around her.

Not delicately. Not carefully.

Desperately.

Elysia inhaled sharply as she was pulled into Malvoria’s lap, the queen burying her face against her shoulder, holding her so tightly it might’ve hurt if she weren’t already made of fire and steel.

The embrace was long.

Longer than anything they’d ever shared.

Malvoria’s fingers trembled against her spine. Her breath stuttered. And though her body was warm—always warm—there was a coldness in her voice when she finally whispered, "Don’t you ever do that again."

Elysia blinked.

Malvoria leaned back just enough to look at her. Her grey eyes burned with something too raw to be called anger. It was deeper than that. Older.

"I mean it, Elysia." Her voice broke like a fraying thread. "I don’t want your bravery. I don’t want your self-sacrifice. I want you. Alive. Safe. Next to me."

Elysia parted her lips to speak but Malvoria shook her head, silencing her with a look.

"I would rather die a thousand times," she said, voice barely above a whisper, "than live in a world where you’re gone."

The words struck harder than the blade that had pierced her.

Elysia’s hands curled in the fabric of Malvoria’s shirt. "I didn’t think—I just saw you—"

"I know." Malvoria cupped her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks. "And I love you for it. But next time, you let me take the hit."

A breathless laugh escaped her. "You’re literally built for war."

"And you," Malvoria said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "are not. You’re built for ruling beside me. For laughing in gardens. For stealing blankets and leaving hair all over my pillow."

Elysia’s throat closed up.

She didn’t respond. She just curled tighter against her, letting herself be held.

For once, she didn’t need to be strong.

For once, she didn’t need to protect anyone.

Malvoria was already doing that. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

They stayed like that for minutes. Hours. Time slipped sideways when wrapped in arms that had once held blades but now held her like something sacred.

When Malvoria finally pulled back, her nose wrinkled slightly. "We smell like blood."

Elysia snorted. "We are covered in blood."

"There’s probably brain in my braid."

"That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said."

Malvoria gave her a crooked smile and stood, tugging Elysia gently up with her.

"Come on," she said, brushing ash from Elysia’s shoulder. "We both need a bath. You’re not climbing into our bed like this, princess or not."

Elysia rolled her eyes but let herself be guided, fingers still laced with Malvoria’s.

They crossed the room in silence.

The bathroom door opened with a soft push.

And together, they stepped inside.

The moment they stepped into the bathing chamber, the rest of the world disappeared.

It was quieter here. Still.

The scent of blood and smoke clung faintly to their skin, a grim reminder of everything they had survived but in this room, behind thick stone walls and amber-tinted candlelight, it felt distant. Faded. As though it belonged to another life.

Steam curled from the enormous sunken bath, already filled with hot water the maids had prepared in anticipation.

The surface shimmered with faint ripples, mist rising in soft spirals that turned the marble walls to honey and gold. The room smelled of lavender and a whisper of clove, Malvoria’s preferred oils.

Elysia let her fingers trail through the warmth as they approached the edge, watching how the water darkened slightly from the soot on her skin.

Malvoria said nothing at first.

She helped Elysia undress slowly, methodically—not with hunger or haste, but reverence.

Fingers sliding beneath scorched fabric, unfastening clasps, brushing away cinders. Each layer peeled back not just the grime, but the weight of battle, of pain, of fear.

When Elysia stood bare under the dim light, Malvoria reached up and gently tucked a blood-crusted strand of silver hair behind her ear.

No words.

Just that look, the one Malvoria only gave her when she wasn’t a queen, or a warrior, but something softer. Something precious.

Together, they stepped into the water.

Heat wrapped around Elysia like silk. Her muscles, still tense with memory, slowly began to loosen.

She sank down, letting the water rise to her collarbones, a sigh slipping past her lips as it cradled her.

She hadn’t realized how much she needed this.

Malvoria stepped in behind her, water rippling around her powerful form as she settled with the same deliberate grace.

Then she reached for a soft cloth and soaked it in warm water, pressing it gently to Elysia’s shoulder.

The first few strokes were silent.

Gentle.

The cloth passed over her skin, wiping away dried blood, soot, the faint traces of purple flame residue. Malvoria’s hand followed, warm and grounding, each touch like a whispered promise.

Elysia tilted her head, letting her eyes close.

When Malvoria’s fingers combed through her damp hair, she sighed again, deeper this time.

"You’re so quiet," Elysia murmured.

"I don’t want to miss a single inch of you," Malvoria said softly, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck.

That made Elysia’s heart stumble.

The cloth moved slowly across her back, trailing heat in its wake, followed by a palm—wide, strong, unmistakably protective.

Then arms. Malvoria wrapped around her from behind, pulling her into the curve of her chest. Elysia let herself fall into it, her head resting back against her shoulder.

They stayed like that, water lapping gently at their skin.

Elysia wasn’t sure how long passed. Time felt strange here.

But eventually, Malvoria spoke, her lips brushing just beneath Elysia’s ear.

"I can feel something from you," she whispered. "But I don’t know what it is."

Elysia froze.

The water no longer felt warm. Her heart beat faster—not with fear, but with the weight of truth.

The one she had carried since the tea party, since the soft ache in her chest turned into a heartbeat that wasn’t her own.

She turned slightly, just enough to meet Malvoria’s gaze.

"I’m pregnant."