I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 113: I am doing this as a ruler

Malvoria exhaled slowly, her hands tightening around the arms of her chair as she finally felt the lingering presence of her mother fade.

The silence was blissful.

For the first time since she had stepped out of her chambers, she could breathe without hearing relentless teasing about heirs, softening hearts, and adorable emotional growth.

She leaned back in her chair, rolling her shoulders, forcing herself to shake off the irritation that still clung to her like an unwanted cloak.

There were more important things to focus on.

Her eyes flickered toward the neatly stacked documents on her desk—reports, military updates, political proposals, and of course, the ever-growing issue of the rebels.

Malvoria clenched her jaw.

They were still a pain in her ass.

Despite the harsh example she had made of the last group, there were still whispers of unrest, still flickers of defiance that hadn't been entirely stamped out.

But she would deal with that later.

Right now, something else occupied her mind.

The orphanage.

Elysia had brought it up over one day—her concern, the way she had spoken about it with that slight edge in her voice.

Malvoria had brushed it off at the time, simply stating that she already ensured all orphanages received more than enough funding.

And yet...

She tapped her fingers against the desk, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Elysia wasn't wrong to be suspicious.

If what she had seen was true—if the children were starving while their caretakers lived in luxury—then that meant someone was stealing from Malvoria's coffers.

And that?

That was unacceptable.

Malvoria didn't consider herself a kind ruler, nor a particularly benevolent one.

But she was fair.

She had no tolerance for corruption.

Her funding for the orphanages had always been generous—more than enough to ensure food, shelter, and a proper upbringing for the children in her kingdom.

If someone was abusing that system, if someone had dared to profit from the suffering of her people—

Malvoria's fingers drummed once against the wood before stilling.

She would need to conduct a personal investigation.

It had been some time since she had personally inspected any of the orphanages, trusting that her appointed overseers were handling everything accordingly.

Clearly, that trust had been misplaced.

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She would see it for herself.

She would make an example out of whoever was responsible.

And—

Malvoria exhaled, rubbing her temple as she felt the ghost of a smirk tug at her lips.

I might as well bring Elysia with me.

Malvoria strode through the corridors of her castle, her mind caught in a ridiculous war with itself.

"I am doing this as a ruler."

Yes, obviously.

This was about her kingdom, about her people. She had standards to uphold. It was her duty to ensure that no corruption spread through the systems she had carefully built.

"You are doing this because you want to walk through the demon village with Elysia."

Malvoria scowled. That part of her brain—the annoying, whispering, traitorous part—needed to shut up.

"This has nothing to do with her."

Sure, Elysia had mentioned the orphanage, but that didn't mean Malvoria was making this decision based on her.

This was a logical step as a ruler. A necessary action.

"You're bringing her with you."

So what?

"You could have sent an investigator."

I am the most efficient investigator.

"You could have sent a spy."

Spies are slow.

"You just want to see Elysia outside the castle, don't you?"

Malvoria stopped walking, pressing her fingers to her temple.

This was ridiculous.

She was a queen, a conqueror, a ruler of demons—not some love-struck fool who made decisions based on the whims of a woman who had once tried to stab her.

"Oh, but you like it when she gets feisty, don't you?"

Malvoria growled out loud.

A passing servant flinched and hurried away.

Malvoria groaned. She was losing it.

Fine. She would admit—privately, to herself—that there was a small part of her that... enjoyed Elysia's company.

But that didn't mean anything.

This was about the orphanage.

This was about exposing corruption.

"And it has nothing to do with how she looked when she talked about the children?"

Malvoria gritted her teeth.

No.

Absolutely not.

It was not because of the way Elysia had frowned, the slight tension in her jaw, the fire in her violet eyes when she had spoken about the caretakers mistreating the children.

Malvoria had seen that look before—when Elysia had stood before her throne on the day of their marriage, defiant, refusing to bow.

It was a look that spoke of conviction.

Of strength.

Of someone who would rather burn than be ignored.

Malvoria let out a long sigh as she finally reached her chambers.

She was done arguing with herself.

She would go to the orphanage. She would take Elysia.

And she would prove that this was all just a matter of duty—nothing more.

With that final thought, Malvoria pushed open the door to her room—

And paused.

Elysia was asleep.

The sight made Malvoria hesitate for a moment longer than she would have liked.

The soft glow of the lanterns cast warm shadows over Elysia's face, her silver hair spilling over the pillows like strands of moonlight.

Her breathing was slow, steady.

Completely unaware.

Completely unbothered.

Malvoria huffed, stepping inside.

She wasn't sure why she had expected anything different.

Of course Elysia had fallen asleep without waiting for her.

Malvoria had spent far too much time arguing with herself in the halls like a lunatic.

She crossed her arms, staring down at her sleeping wife.

She should wake her up.

Tell her about the orphanage.

Tell her to get ready.

Tell her—

...

Malvoria exhaled sharply, rubbing her jaw.

Tomorrow.

She would tell her tomorrow.

For now, she would let her sleep.

Malvoria exhaled slowly, shaking her head as she stepped away from the bed. There was no point in waking Elysia now—she would just be grumpy, and Malvoria was not in the mood to deal with her sharp tongue when she was half-conscious.

Instead, she moved to the corner of the room, where her wardrobe stood tall and imposing. With practiced ease, she undid the buttons of her coat, slipping it off her shoulders and tossing it onto the nearby chair.

Her muscles ached—a dull soreness from training earlier in the day, but nothing she couldn't ignore. She rolled her shoulders back, stretching for a brief moment before reaching for her nightwear.

The loose black silk shirt she pulled over her frame was far more comfortable than the stiff military attire she wore during the day. She ran a hand through her crimson hair, undoing the tie that held it in place, letting it fall in soft waves down her back.

She turned slightly, casting one last glance at Elysia, still curled up on the bed, her breathing steady.

Malvoria sighed.

This was becoming a habit.

Carefully, she slid under the covers, moving slowly so as not to wake her. The warmth of the bed was comforting, a stark contrast to the cold armor she wore in the daylight.

As she settled into the mattress, Elysia shifted slightly, her body instinctively gravitating toward the warmth beside her.

Malvoria stilled.

She could feel her, the soft press of her body, the faint scent of lavender lingering in her hair.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Tomorrow.

She would deal with everything tomorrow.

For now, she simply closed her eyes, letting sleep pull her under.