I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 106: You’re so easy to read

The meeting had gone as expected—smooth, decisive, and, more importantly, an undeniable victory on her part. The officers had been tense, wary even, but they knew better than to question her orders.

Good.

Fear was a powerful thing.

She had no patience for hesitation. No patience for weakness.

And yet...

As she strode through the quiet corridors, her mind wandered back—against her better judgment—to something that had nothing to do with war, rebellion, or conquest.

Silver hair tangled in dark sheets.

A peaceful face, softened in sleep.

A warmth that had lingered against her side longer than it should have.

Malvoria scowled.

This was ridiculous.

She was not the kind of woman who allowed herself to be distracted. Least of all by a stubborn, sharp-tongued princess who had done nothing but challenge her from the moment she stepped foot in this castle.

But gods, it had been infuriating this morning.

That entire ordeal just to get out of bed. The way Elysia had burrowed into her, the way she had sighed so softly, the way she had held on like Malvoria was some kind of personal pillow—

No.

Absolutely not.

Malvoria exhaled slowly, flexing her fingers as if she could physically dispel the irritation—and the completely unwanted warmth curling in her chest.

This was nothing.

She was the Demon Queen. She had survived battlefields drenched in blood. She had conquered cities, crushed enemies beneath her boot, and sent men to their knees with just a glance.

She was not about to be defeated by a sleeping princess.

Ridiculous.

She reached her chamber doors and stopped.

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Just for a second.

Her hand hovered over the handle, fingers brushing the cool metal.

Why?

Why was she hesitating?

She had faced warlords and traitors with less pause than this.

But standing here, in front of the door, there was a strange, nagging sensation. Something absurdly human. Something she did not have time for.

Malvoria clenched her jaw, inhaled once, then finally—finally—pushed open the door.

The dim glow of the enchanted sconces illuminated the room in soft, flickering light. The air inside was warm, still carrying the faint traces of lavender from her earlier bath.

And on her bed—sprawled out, limbs tangled in blankets—was Elysia.

Fast asleep.

Malvoria's grip on the doorknob tightened.

This...

This was unfair.

Elysia had no right to look like that.

Small.

Too small in a bed far too large for her.

She was curled slightly to the side, the blankets half-draped over her, her silver hair a wild mess against the dark pillows. Her breathing was soft and steady, her chest rising and falling in quiet rhythm.

Malvoria stared.

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

This was the problem with humans.

They were too fragile. Too breakable.

Elysia had spent the last several weeks proving she was not fragile—arguing, fighting, standing her ground when she should have been afraid—but right now?

Right now, she was just... small.

Malvoria exhaled sharply through her nose.

Unacceptable.

This was not the woman who had thrown herself between Malvoria and her soldiers earlier. This was not the woman who had challenged her to a duel just to prove a point.

This was something else entirely.

And Malvoria did not know what to do with it.

So she just stood there.

For much longer than she should have.

Until—

A quiet, sleepy murmur.

Elysia shifted slightly, her lashes fluttering before slowly—very slowly—her eyes blinked open.

It took a second.

Then another.

Her gaze was unfocused at first, still hazy with sleep, until—

She stilled. Frowned. Squinted.

And then—

"...What are you doing?"

Malvoria went rigid.

For a full three seconds, she simply stood there, entirely unmoving, like she had been caught committing some sort of crime.

Which—

She hadn't.

Obviously.

But the way Elysia was looking at her—brows slightly furrowed, voice still heavy with sleep—made her feel like she had just been caught lurking.

Which was also ridiculous.

Malvoria did not lurk.

She cleared her throat. "Nothing."

Elysia blinked at her.

Then, slower this time, she dragged herself upward—propping herself onto her elbows, her silver hair slipping over her shoulder in messy waves.

"Right," she mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. "Because standing there staring at me like a creep is definitely nothing."

Malvoria's eye twitched.

"I was not staring," she said stiffly.

Elysia yawned, entirely unbothered. "Mmhmm."

Malvoria clenched her jaw. "I wasn't."

"Sure."

"Elysia."

"Malvoria."

They stared at each other.

A long, heavy silence.

Then—

Elysia smirked.

Malvoria snapped. She moved before she even thought about it, crossing the room in one swift motion.

Elysia barely had time to react before she was pinned.

Malvoria's hands pressed firmly against the mattress, caging her in, her body looming over Elysia's smaller frame.

The smirk disappeared immediately.

Elysia's eyes went wide.

Malvoria leaned in slightly, voice smooth, calm, and entirely too controlled.

"Would you like to say that again?"

Elysia swallowed.

Once.

Twice.

Her pulse stuttered against her throat, her silver eyes flickering with something unreadable—caught somewhere between challenge and panic.

Malvoria smirked.

Finally.

Victory.

Elysia had stopped breathing.

Malvoria could feel it—could see it in the way her chest rose just a fraction too slowly, the way her pupils dilated in the dim candlelight.

Good.

Let her be breathless.

Let her understand the weight of this moment.

Malvoria didn't move at first. She simply held her position, leaning over Elysia, bracing her weight on either side of her head. Close—too close—but not touching. Not yet.

She was patient.

She had all the time in the world to watch Elysia react.

The princess was trying—desperately—to school her expression, to pretend that she wasn't affected. But Malvoria saw the betrayal of her body, the way her fingers curled slightly into the sheets, the way her throat bobbed when she swallowed.

She felt it in the space between them, in the tension humming like a tightly drawn bowstring.

"Nothing to say?" Malvoria murmured, her voice lower now, smoother, like the edge of a blade sliding against silk.

Elysia sucked in a sharp breath.

"You—" Her voice faltered, and gods, that was satisfying. She cleared her throat, trying again. "You're too close."

Malvoria hummed in amusement.

"Am I?" she mused, tilting her head slightly, her crimson hair slipping over one shoulder. "Funny. You didn't seem to mind this morning."

Elysia's face flushed instantly.

Malvoria grinned.

She knew she shouldn't enjoy this as much as she did, but damn it, Elysia had made her suffer this morning, clinging to her like some sleepy, unknowing tormentor. It was only fair that Malvoria got to return the favor.

Slowly—deliberately—she shifted her weight just enough to let one hand move.

Down.

Closer.

Until her gloved fingers barely—barely—brushed against Elysia's side.

The reaction was immediate.

A sharp inhale. A twitch of her stomach. The way her entire body went tense beneath Malvoria's hand, caught between anticipation and uncertainty.

Malvoria's smirk deepened.

Interesting.

She had expected more defiance. A sharp retort, maybe, or an attempt to shove her away. But this—this tense, quiet awareness—was something else entirely.

Something infinitely more fun.

"You're doing it again," Elysia accused, her voice breathless, too soft.

Malvoria arched a brow. "Doing what?"

Elysia scowled. "Looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Malvoria let her fingers trace up, ghosting over the thin fabric covering Elysia's ribs, enjoying the way it made her breath hitch.

"Like—like you—" Elysia cut herself off, pressing her lips together like she had physically refused to say whatever words had been forming.

Malvoria chuckled.

That was adorable.

"You're awfully flustered for someone who was smirking at me a moment ago," she said smoothly.

Elysia scowled deeper, clearly frustrated by her own reaction.

Malvoria took the opportunity to push just a little more, trailing her fingers lower again, only this time, she let them slip beneath the hem of Elysia's dress, just enough to make direct contact with warm, bare skin.

Elysia gasped.

Oh.

Oh, that was lovely.

Malvoria tilted her head, eyes darkening slightly at the sound.

She did it again.

A slow, infuriating touch, barely-there pressure against her waist, just enough to make Elysia feel it. To remind her exactly who was in control here.

Elysia shivered.

Malvoria watched, fascinated, as the princess fought against herself—against whatever warring emotions were flickering behind those stormy silver eyes.

"This," Elysia finally managed, voice rough, uneven. "This is why people think you're insufferable."

Malvoria laughed, low and warm. "Oh, princess," she purred, leaning closer until their noses almost brushed. "You are the one trembling beneath me—and I'm the insufferable one?"

Elysia's breath stuttered.

There was no escape.

Not when Malvoria had her like this, pressed into the mattress, caged beneath her weight.

And judging by the way Elysia's fingers had tightened ever-so-slightly in the sheets—she wasn't trying to escape, either.

Malvoria hummed, letting her hand linger, just resting against Elysia's waist, warm and possessive.

Then, after a pause—

She moved it higher.

Elysia flinched.

Not in fear.

Not in discomfort.

But in something dangerously close to expectation.

Malvoria's smirk sharpened.

"Tell me to stop," she murmured.

Elysia's lips parted slightly, her breathing still uneven.

Malvoria waited.

Her fingers traced lightly, slowly, drawing soft patterns against warm skin.

She waited.

For Elysia to shove her away.

For her to snap, or argue, or fight.

But she didn't.

She just lay there, lips parted, chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths—her body betraying her far more than her words ever could.

Malvoria grinned.

"Oh, Elysia," she murmured, her voice dropping lower, just for her. "You're so easy to read."

Elysia gasped—but not in indignation.

This was something else.

Something real.

Something she couldn't hide.

Malvoria had played many games in her life. Had manipulated, deceived, and conquered with words alone.

But this—this moment—was not a game.

Not anymore.

Her fingers drifted higher—

And Elysia's breath hitched.

Malvoria could feel the warmth radiating between them, the weight of tension so thick it was nearly suffocating.

And then—

Elysia whispered her name.

Barely a sound.

Soft.

Unsteady.

But there.

Malvoria's entire body reacted to it.

And suddenly—

That was it.

That was all it took.

Malvoria moved before she even thought about it, tilting her head, closing the distance—

And then—

She kissed her.