I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 213: You’re a menace to single people

The sun had dipped low in the sky, the shadows in their chambers growing long and golden as the distant toll of the evening bell echoed through the corridors of the palace.

Dinner time.

Malvoria sat back reluctantly, fingers brushing once more over the ceremonial blade Elysia had just admired.

She hadn’t wanted to move, this moment with her wife and their child was too rare, too tender. But duty, as always, called.

With deliberate care, she lifted the blade and turned toward the obsidian chest near the fireplace.

The room was quiet, lit only by warm sconces and the dying sunlight. Inside the chest were the few things she kept closest, letters from her mothers, war medallions from long-past campaigns, and a single, beautifully crafted blade resting at the center on black velvet.

The blade Elysia had given her for her birthday.

It wasn’t as ornate as some of her royal swords. It wasn’t infused with centuries-old demon steel or etched with ancient runes. But it had something none of the others had—Elysia’s warmth.

Elysia’s love.

Malvoria ran a gloved hand along the hilt. "I still remember that day," she murmured aloud, glancing at Elysia over her shoulder. "It was a chaotic day "

Elysia, still reclining on the divan, laughed softly. "It was a rushed day."

"But I got your gift." Malvoria turned back to the chest, gently placing the ceremonial naming blade beside it. "This one," she said quietly, "will stay next to the one you gave me."

"Do you still love it?" Elysia asked, her voice teasing but with a flicker of real curiosity.

Malvoria turned slowly, her expression softening. "I treasure it. Because it’s from you. It doesn’t matter what it’s made of."

Elysia smiled, touched in that quietly blushing way that always made Malvoria want to kiss her senseless.

But, unfortunately, the bell tolled again.

Malvoria groaned. "Dinner."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Elysia teased, pushing herself to her feet, a bit slowly now with the added weight. "We don’t want your mother to come drag us down again."

"She would. She once kicked down my office door because I missed breakfast."

"She’s very committed to nutrition."

Malvoria offered her arm, and Elysia looped hers through it. Together, they walked out of their chambers and into the halls of the palace.

The journey to the dining room was a short one, but tonight it felt especially warm, servants bowing along the way, several nodding respectfully to Elysia.

The scent of roasted root vegetables and smoked meats drifted through the air.

When the great doors of the dining room opened, the entire space was already humming with the quiet clinking of silverware and soft conversation.

The long obsidian table was set with flickering candles and arrangements of dark crimson and pale violet roses, a centerpiece of infernal elegance.

Their family was already present, Veylira at the head of the table, seated with her usual poised authority, sipping wine.

Lara, of course, was lounging in her seat, boots up and flirting shamelessly with one of the kitchen staff trying to refill the water jugs. Malvoria didn’t even have the energy to roll her eyes.

"There you two are," Veylira said, looking up. "We nearly started without you."

"Nearly," Malvoria said dryly, "but I’m sure you waited."

Elysia smiled politely as they made their way to their seats. Malvoria guided her to her usual spot and helped her sit, ever protective despite Elysia’s claims that she could still move on her own just fine.

Servants began to bring out plates: spiced bloodroot stew, glazed bat-wing squash, fire-seared peppers stuffed with sun-dried rice and herbs, and of course, a bowl of fresh strawberries placed without question next to Elysia’s plate. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

Malvoria glanced sideways.

Elysia lit up at the sight.

"You bribed them," Elysia accused in a whisper.

"I ordered them," Malvoria replied, smug. "That’s what queens do."

As the first bites were shared, Malvoria relaxed slightly.

Her eyes drifted around the room, Veylira was deep in a discussion with one of the military liaisons at the far end.

Lara was... laughing too loud at something inappropriate, and the noise around her became background as she turned her attention entirely to the woman beside her.

Elysia was glowing.

Not just from the pregnancy, but from the way she smiled, from the calm confidence she’d grown into.

From the way she now belonged here, not as a prisoner, not even as a political wife, but as something more.

As someone loved. Respected.

And Malvoria’s chest ached with it.

"You’re staring," Elysia whispered, blushing as she cut a slice of soft cheese.

"I’m thinking," Malvoria murmured, her voice low so only Elysia could hear.

"About what?"

"About how lucky I am that you didn’t stab me again after our wedding night."

Malvoria delivered the line casually, dipping a roasted fig into spiced honey as if she hadn’t just said something entirely outrageous.

Across from her, Elysia froze mid-sip of tea and promptly choked, coughing into her napkin.

"Oh come on," Malvoria added with a smirk, "it’s true."

Elysia narrowed her eyes. "You bring that up like it was a love confession."

"It was! I felt honored. What says eternal devotion like attempted murder?"

Before Elysia could respond, Lara who had clearly been eavesdropping leaned dramatically over the table, propping her chin on her hand.

"Gods, you two are nauseating. Truly. Stabbing as foreplay, poetry about baby names, heartfelt weapon forging... you’re a menace to single people."

Malvoria gave her older sister a deadpan look. "That’s rich coming from someone who can’t remember the last name of anyone she’s kissed."

"I remember important things," Lara countered, unfazed. "Like which ones had good wine collections."

"I’m sure your future child—accidentally conceived during a diplomatic banquet will be very impressed."

Lara gasped theatrically. "Rude! I use protective spells!"

"Half of them fail because you’re too drunk to cast them straight."

"Still less risky than falling in love with someone who once tried to stab you!"

Elysia blinked. "Are you two always like this?"

"Always," Veylira answered from down the table without even looking up from her wine glass. "They’ve been at it since Malvoria could hold a sword and Lara refused to stop painting flowers on it."

"They were lovely flowers," Lara muttered.

"They were glittered," Malvoria hissed. "I was mocked by an entire battalion."

Elysia covered her mouth to hide her laughter.

Lara grinned. "And yet here you are, Queen of all Demons, most feared woman in the realm... still bitter about daisy stickers."

"They weren’t stickers. You tattooed them magically. It took weeks to remove."

"I regret nothing," Lara said with a wink.

Malvoria huffed and turned back to Elysia, determined to escape her sister’s taunts by pretending she didn’t exist. She speared another honeyed fig and placed it gently on Elysia’s plate, voice soft again.

"Anyway, my point still stands. I’m glad you didn’t stab me again. I rather like being alive to see your face."

Elysia, finally recovering from her earlier laughter, smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I like your face too."

"Ugh," Lara groaned, dramatically shielding her eyes. "True love is disgusting."

"Then look away," Malvoria said sweetly. "Before we start kissing again."

Lara shuddered. "You’re both monsters."

"Correct," Malvoria said. "One literally, the other legally."

And at that, the whole table erupted into laughter.

The laughter lingered like smoke in the air, warm and bright, bouncing between walls that had once known only silence and formality.

For a moment, the palace felt like home—not just a place of power, but a place of life.

Malvoria leaned back in her chair, sipping from her goblet, content to let the noise and teasing buzz around her like harmless static.

Elysia was glowing, her eyes bright with joy, her cheeks flushed from laughter. And their child—gods, their child—was the quiet rhythm beneath it all, a soft presence Malvoria could already feel in her bones.

She reached under the table, brushing her hand gently over the curve of Elysia’s belly.

"You alright?" she murmured, barely audible over the din.

Elysia nodded, though her hand drifted to her stomach, her brow furrowing just a little.

"I think so," she whispered. "They’re just... moving a lot."

Malvoria smiled. "Active. That’s good."

But Elysia winced slightly, shifting in her seat.

Then she froze.

"Malvoria," she said, and her voice had changed—tight, uncertain.

Malvoria’s heart instantly stilled. "What is it?"

"I—" Elysia exhaled shakily, pressing both hands to her belly. Her face paled. "Something’s not right. I—Malvoria, it hurts."

Chairs scraped against the floor. All the noise died in an instant.

Malvoria was already on her feet, her napkin forgotten, her hand gripping Elysia’s shoulder.

"Get the healer!" she barked toward the nearest servant. "Now!"

Elysia’s eyes fluttered shut, her breathing quickening.

"Elysia," Malvoria said, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands trembling as she cupped her wife’s face. "Look at me."

But Elysia didn’t answer.

A sharp gasp left her lips and then her body went limp.