I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 198: I’m happy

"I’m pregnant."

The words echoed in the steam.

Soft. Uneven. Almost shy.

And then they detonated inside Malvoria’s head like a spell released from the core of her soul.

I’m pregnant.

I’m... pregnant.

I’m... pre—gnant...

I’m-preg-nant.

She heard it again.

And again.

And again.

As if the phrase had peeled itself from Elysia’s lips and stitched itself into her thoughts, her heartbeat, the space behind her ribs.

I’m pregnant?

I’m pregnant!

I’m pregnant.

She blinked once. Twice.

The steam curled around her. The warm water lapped softly at her waist. Her arms were still wrapped around Elysia’s middle. Her skin still felt like silk beneath her fingertips.

And yet her mind was falling through the air.

Not with panic.

Not with confusion.

But with awe.

Absolute, unfiltered, soul-striking awe.

Her objective from the beginning had been simple: an heir.

A child to secure the throne, to protect the lineage, to hold the future in place. A cold, calculated political necessity.

But that had been before.

Before Elysia.

Before her smile.

Before the way she challenged Malvoria to be better not kinder, not softer, but honest. Before the way she touched her, not just her skin, but her very sense of being.

Now... that plan—those ambitions—they didn’t matter in the same way.

This wasn’t a political move anymore.

This was hers.

Elysia.

Their child.

Their future.

And still, her mind echoed it.

I’m pregnant...

The syllables felt like gold.

Like starlight.

Like prophecy.

Malvoria leaned her forehead against the back of Elysia’s shoulder, her breath catching as everything she had ever thought she wanted reshaped itself into something more.

Images bloomed inside her head, fast and full of color.

A tiny hand wrapped around her clawed pinky.

Tiny boots left in the hallway.

A soft laugh in a sunlit courtyard—Elysia cradling a small form in her arms, glowing in the morning light, her silver hair unbound and tangled by tiny fingers.

A child with Elysia’s silver hair and her grey eyes.

Or maybe the other way around.

A child who could command fire and shade and stubbornness in equal measure.

A child who would know strength, and safety, and love.

Their child.

Their legacy.

Malvoria felt it then, surging through her—joy.

Pure. Unapologetic. Terrifying in its intensity.

She didn’t hesitate.

She wrapped both arms fully around Elysia’s torso, pulling her tighter against her chest, nearly lifting her out of the water in the sudden fierceness of her embrace.

Elysia stiffened in surprise. "Mal?!"

Malvoria buried her face in her neck, laughing—a breathless, shaky thing that was half a sob.

"I’m happy," she said against her skin. "I’m so happy I don’t know what to do with it."

Elysia turned slightly, and Malvoria kissed the curve of her jaw, again and again, as if the contact grounded her. Anchored her.

"I thought you might scream," Elysia admitted with a shaky chuckle. "Or pace. Or... explode."

"I am exploding," Malvoria said, grinning into her neck. "Just internally. Loudly. I’m pregnant, you said. You—we—we’re going to have a baby. A baby."

Her words tripped over themselves, and her voice cracked with the enormity of it.

She held Elysia at arm’s length then, cupping her face with both hands, grey eyes wide and fever-bright. Her gaze dropped to Elysia’s stomach. Her expression softened into reverence.

"Everything’s different now," she murmured. "Everything."

Elysia’s eyes widened, touched by something cautious. "Is that... okay?"

Malvoria didn’t answer with words.

She leaned forward and kissed her. Slow and full and reverent.

When they pulled apart, her voice was rough with everything she couldn’t name.

"I love you," she whispered. "I love what we’re becoming. I love that there will be more of you in the world."

Elysia blinked back tears, startled into silence.

They stayed like that for a while, surrounded by steam and silence and the warmth of each other. Time crawled past like soft wind.

But eventually, Elysia cleared her throat, cheeks still pink with emotion.

"Let’s... get out of the bathroom first?" she said.

Malvoria laughed again.

And nodded.

Malvoria didn’t stop smiling.

Even as she helped Elysia out of the bath and wrapped her in one of the oversized black towels hanging on the carved obsidian rack, her lips refused to rest.

There was a lightness in her chest she hadn’t felt in—gods, centuries maybe. Something close to joy, but deeper, richer. Something that anchored itself into the bones of her soul.

Elysia is pregnant.

She replayed the moment again and again as they moved around the chamber, slowly pulling on fresh clothes.

It didn’t matter that her body still ached from battle, that smoke still lingered in the castle’s corridors, or that a rebellion had nearly shattered her throne.

None of it could eclipse the small miracle unfolding inside the woman she loved.

The child.

Their child.

She wanted to carve the knowledge into the moon.

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this... giddy," Elysia teased gently as she adjusted the clasp of her loose cotton tunic. It was one of Malvoria’s, plain black and far too large, but it draped elegantly over her frame.

Malvoria, now in a deep crimson shirt and black high-collared vest, paused mid-button, eyes flicking to her.

"I’ve never been this giddy."

Elysia tilted her head with a grin. "Even when you conquered the Eastern Borderlands?"

"That was satisfying. This is..." She let her hand rest lightly on Elysia’s waist, gaze dropping to where her hand covered the barely-there swell. "This is everything."

She didn’t elaborate.

Couldn’t.

The words would never be enough.

Once dressed, she led Elysia to their bed—one of the few untouched sanctuaries in a world still reeling from fire and war.

They didn’t lie down. It wasn’t time to sleep. But Malvoria needed this moment. A pause between chaos. A breath drawn before the next blade falls.

Elysia sank into the plush blankets with a small sigh, curling her legs beneath her. Malvoria joined her, sitting cross-legged, shoulders turned toward her, eyes drinking in every detail like she hadn’t just seen her a hundred times in a hundred different lights.

"I keep thinking about them," she murmured, reaching forward to gently tuck a silver strand behind Elysia’s ear. "Our child."

Elysia’s lashes fluttered. "Already?"

Malvoria’s smile softened. "Already."

She settled her palm against Elysia’s stomach again, marveling at how normal it looked, how calm it seemed... and yet inside, something was shifting. Forming. Becoming.

She didn’t know if it would be a boy or girl, didn’t care.

All she knew was that they would have Elysia’s stubbornness and her own poor patience, and the world would never be ready.

"Have you thought about names?" she asked.

Elysia groaned softly. "I really didn’t for the moment we have 9 month for that."

"I’m efficient."

"You’re ridiculous."

"You love that."

Elysia bit back a smile. "I do."

Malvoria leaned closer, resting her chin on Elysia’s shoulder. "I can see them, you know. The baby."

"Oh?"

"Running down the palace halls, chasing the hounds. Getting into everything. Breaking priceless vases while you pretend not to laugh."

"I’d never pretend," Elysia replied with mock offense. "I’ll laugh openly and blame you."

Malvoria chuckled. "That’s fair."

She exhaled, letting her body relax fully for the first time since the attack. The scent of lavender and clean skin drifted between them, and her thoughts quieted.

It wasn’t peace—not yet. But it was close enough to taste.

"I’ve wanted an heir for years," she said after a pause, voice lower now, more vulnerable. "But I thought... I don’t know, I thought I’d raise them out of duty. Give them a sword, a crown, a list of rules to memorize."

Elysia tilted her head slightly. "And now?"

Malvoria brushed her nose against her neck.

"Now I want to teach them how to light candles with a finger-snap. Let them fall asleep between us. Watch them grow up knowing they were wanted. That they came from something stronger than war. Something real."

Elysia said nothing for a while.

Then her hand closed over Malvoria’s.

"Me too."

They didn’t need more than that.

Time passed.

The sky outside turned golden, then copper, the first traces of evening curling across the windows in warm, burnt hues.

The soft knock came just before the sun dipped below the mountains.

Malvoria let out a quiet groan and buried her face in Elysia’s shoulder again. "If that’s another rebellion, I’m killing them politely this time."

But then the door creaked open, and Veylira’s unmistakable voice called out from the other side, tone dry but oddly gentle.

"Dinner time, Malvoria. Let your wife have some food."