I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 343: Gifts

The moment the steward’s voice echoed through the grand banquet hall, a hush swept over the assembled guests a ripple of anticipation.

Elysia felt it as a tingle along her arms, a subtle tightening of the hand Malvoria still held in hers. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

This was more than custom or pageantry; the exchange of gifts on a royal child’s first birthday was a rite older than any of their kingdoms, heavy with expectation and meaning.

It was, Elysia thought, one of those moments where even the smallest gesture became history.

Kaelith, perched between her mothers, squirmed in her chair, eyes round with delight and awe as the first gifts were carried forward.

Servants, dressed in midnight blue and silver, formed a respectful line, each bearing something wrapped in colored silk or nestled in velvet-lined boxes.

Elysia caught Malvoria’s eye—saw the warmth and pride shining there, tempered with a pinch of nervousness. For all her strength, Malvoria was never fully at ease with these spectacles.

A hush. The herald stepped forward, his staff rapping gently on the polished stone floor. "From the House of Ferelith, a gift for Princess Kaelith."

A stately woman with intricate golden horns rose and crossed the floor, her attendants carrying a chest carved from pale wood. She bowed deeply to Malvoria, Elysia, and finally Kaelith herself.

"For the Princess," she intoned, "a crib woven from moon-touched yew and lined with the feathers of the sunrise birds of our southern groves. May your dreams be protected, and your rest untroubled."

The chest was opened with a flourish, revealing a miniature cradle—its wood gleaming softly, delicate feathers peeking from beneath a pale blanket.

Kaelith, with all the solemnity her one-year-old self could muster, reached out and touched the downy lining, immediately giggling at the tickle beneath her fingertips.

Elysia smiled, bowing her head in gratitude as Malvoria spoke a few gracious words.

One by one, the gifts continued—each accompanied by a brief speech, each more elaborate than the last.

There were enchanted storybooks from the Western Isles that shimmered with illustrations when opened, their pages whispering tales of valor and adventure.

From the artisans of the human kingdoms came a jewelry box shaped like a castle tower, each tiny drawer containing a trinket: a silver whistle shaped like a dragon, a ring with a twisting red-gold flame, a pendant for Elysia herself—an engraved ruby set in a nest of demonsteel.

An ambassador from the mountains of Arvandor presented a miniature suit of armor, forged from gleaming steel and lined with protective runes—"For the day the Princess rides with her mothers at her side."

Kaelith beamed, slapping the tiny breastplate with a resounding clang, which sent a ripple of laughter through the room.

More gifts appeared: soft woolen cloaks embroidered with family sigils; a carved demonwood rocking horse, enchanted to gallop in place when Kaelith wished it; a wind-up music box inlaid with swirling opals that played lullabies at the flick of a finger.

Elysia watched Kaelith’s face with every gift, marveling at the range of emotions flitting across her features—delight, confusion, fascination, the simple pleasure of tearing through silk wrappings and ribbons.

Some gifts, Elysia could see, were more about spectacle than substance—a lord from the Eastern Wastes presented a painted scroll three times longer than Kaelith was tall, depicting the royal family at the center of a vast and glorious empire.

Malvoria rendered with inhuman beauty and Elysia appearing twice as tall as in reality.

Kaelith tried to eat one corner of the scroll, much to the horror of the artist, which made Malvoria choke back a laugh.

Others were heartfelt. A humble baker from a border village, having won a contest to attend, presented a basket of sweet cakes and a shy blessing for the "little star who brought light back to the world."

Elysia invited her to stay and taste the banquet’s desserts, and the woman wept with joy.

Lara and Sarisa approached with Aliyah, their baby girl swaddled in lavender and white.

Lara, uncharacteristically solemn, knelt before Kaelith and produced a wooden puzzle, its pieces carved into the shapes of their family’s crest and the symbols of each allied kingdom.

"So you’ll always know how to fit us together, even when we’re a mess," Lara said, winking at Elysia. Kaelith, delighted, pulled apart the puzzle and promptly tried to fit a piece in her mouth.

Raveth and Veylira offered a sword—a real one, small but perfectly balanced, its hilt wrapped in soft black leather.

"For when you need to protect what matters," Veylira said, her voice steady but her eyes shimmering. Elysia caught her mother-in-law’s hand as the gift was placed on the dais, gratitude burning in her chest.

As the pile of gifts grew, so did the chaos. Kaelith, overwhelmed by treasures and attention, abandoned all pretense of dignity and began crawling through the presents, dragging a velvet cloak over her shoulders and brandishing a wooden staff twice her height.

The guests looked on in fond amusement, laughter and conversation swelling as the formalities loosened.

Elysia was seized with a warmth that had nothing to do with the candles or wine—it was the comfort of family, of bonds forged in fire and trial and love.

At one point, Kaelith approached Malvoria with a crown of woven wildflowers a present from the castle’s youngest maids and, after a failed attempt to place it on Malvoria’s horns, plopped it on Elysia’s head instead.

Elysia grinned, not caring for her dignity or the stifled snickers of the court. It was Kaelith’s day, and her delight was all that mattered.

Music played, servants poured more wine, and the banquet shifted into that golden stage of celebration where joy seemed to thrum in the very walls.

Malvoria, who had never much liked grand gatherings, was laughing quietly at Kaelith’s antics, her eyes softer than Elysia had seen in months.

"Think she’ll remember this?" Elysia murmured, leaning in close.

Malvoria shook her head, her smile gentle. "No. But we will."

Elysia’s heart squeezed. She pressed her hand to Malvoria’s knee beneath the table, a silent promise that this memory these hours, this love would be carried for both of them.

Kaelith, predictably, grew tired before the gifts were halfway done. She yawned, clutching a small stuffed gryphon as if it were the crown jewels, and collapsed against Elysia’s side.

Elysia stroked her hair, still listening to the parade of well-wishers, but her gaze drifted toward the distant door wondering if, after all this, they might finally have a moment of peace.

Then the air shifted.

It was subtle at first a pause in the music, a hush at the far end of the hall, as if a cold wind had crept beneath the heavy doors.

Elysia straightened, heart suddenly drumming louder. Malvoria stiffened at her side, her hand moving unconsciously to Kaelith’s back.

The herald now stammered, his staff clattering once on the marble floor.

"Announcing... Her Celestial Majesty, Queen Asterielle of the Celestians."

All eyes turned. The doors swung open, and a wave of winter air seemed to sweep through the hall.

The Celestian Queen entered, every inch the embodiment of her people’s impossible grace.

She wore robes of moonlight silk, her hair crowned with opals and starlight. At her heels trailed two silent attendants, and before her every guest seemed to shrink.

Elysia felt the tension coil in her belly. She reached for Malvoria’s hand, and together, they waited—knowing that, whatever came next, this was the moment everyone would remember.

Kaelith, eyes wide, clutched her gryphon a little tighter.

And the great hall, full of warmth and laughter only moments before, held its breath.

The temperature in the hall seemed to drop a few more degrees as Queen Asterielle swept forward, her movement gliding and utterly silent, as if she floated rather than walked.

Even the most seasoned nobles held their breath, and the musicians faltered, their tune fading into uneasy quiet.

Elysia watched as the queen’s gaze swept over the crowd, pausing only briefly on her, Malvoria, and Kaelith sharp, assessing, but not quite hostile.

Asterielle’s attendants followed, bearing a gift cradled in a velvet-lined case of pale crystal.

When they reached the dais, the queen herself offered it to Elysia and Malvoria, her pale hands steady and sure.

"For Princess Kaelith," she intoned, voice clear and cool, "a charm woven with the oldest Celestian magic. It will glow with gentle light in darkness and protect her from nightmares until her third year."

Her lips barely curved, but Elysia sensed some truth in the gift a small bridge, perhaps, between their worlds.

Malvoria inclined her head. "Your generosity honors us, Your Majesty."

The Celestian queen’s gaze lingered on Kaelith, who clung to her gryphon but stared back with childlike boldness.

Then, with the smallest tilt of her chin, Asterielle looked to where Lara and Sarisa stood, Aliyah nestled between them. The queen’s eyes softened just a fraction, some deeper calculation at work.

Without turning from the dais, the queen leaned in, her voice low enough for only Elysia, Malvoria, and Lara to hear. "I’m ready to present Aliyah to the court."