I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 61: This is dangerous

Malvoria closed the door to her office with a quiet click, leaning against the polished wood for a moment as she let out a slow, measured breath.

The morning sun filtered through the tall windows, casting long, soft rays across the dark mahogany desk and the towering shelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls.

The faint scent of parchment and ink filled the room, a familiar comfort in the chaos of her mind.

The breakfast had been... amusing, to say the least. Watching Zera barely restrain herself, fists clenched and jaw tight, had been the highlight of Malvoria's morning.

Every sharp glare from the ever-loyal bodyguard had only made Malvoria smirk wider, savoring the barely contained fury.

There was something undeniably satisfying about poking at the edges of Zera's self-control, knowing exactly what had fueled that anger.

Jealousy is such a delicious thing to witness, Malvoria thought with a quiet chuckle as she pushed off the door and crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps.

But now, alone in the quiet of her office, the weight of the previous night settled heavily on her shoulders.

Malvoria approached her desk, her gray eyes narrowing as they fell on the object resting atop the smooth surface.

The dagger.

Her fingers traced the hilt, the intricate design catching the morning light. It was finely crafted—too finely crafted for an ordinary weapon.

The blade was slim but sharp, its edge gleaming with a faint, enchanted glow. She picked it up, turning it over in her hand with a thoughtful expression.

This dagger wasn't meant for display. It wasn't some ornamental blade carried by nobles to showcase their wealth. This was a weapon designed for precision and lethality.

And it was enchanted—enough to wound her. Enough to hurt.

But not enough to kill.

Why? Malvoria's lips pressed into a thin line as she twirled the dagger between her fingers with practiced ease.

If Elysia truly intended to end me last night, why choose a weapon that couldn't finish the job?

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She remembered the moment vividly—the flicker of determination in Elysia's violet eyes, the way her hand had trembled just slightly as she gripped the dagger.

Malvoria had seen it all, felt it in the tense air between them.

But what lingered most in her mind was the dagger slipping from Elysia's hand, clattering to the floor before Malvoria had even needed to react.

It wasn't fear that had caused Elysia to falter. No, there had been too much conviction in her eyes for that. But something—or someone—had set her up for failure.

Who gave you this, Elysia? Malvoria's thoughts narrowed as she examined the dagger more closely.

The enchantment was subtle, but she could feel it—the faint pulse of magic woven into the metal, designed to weaken a demon's defenses, but not fatally so. The craftsmanship was too refined for just anyone to have made it.

Her mind immediately conjured one face.

Zera.

The thought sent a flicker of annoyance through her. Of course, it had to be Zera. The bodyguard who had always been too close, too protective, too involved.

Malvoria's grip on the dagger tightened. You've always been a thorn in my side, Zera.

But there was no proof—yet. And Malvoria wasn't one to act without certainty.

She placed the dagger back on the desk, tapping her fingers against the wood in a steady rhythm as she considered her next move.

Then, with a decision made, she pulled a small crystal orb from a drawer—a communication device tied to her network of spies.

The orb shimmered softly as she whispered a single name.

"Nyssa."

A moment later, the figure of a young woman flickered to life within the orb. She had short, dark hair, piercing green eyes, and a mischievous smile that hinted at her reputation for gathering secrets no one else could.

"Your Majesty," Nyssa greeted with a slight bow of her head, her voice smooth and confident. "What can I do for you?"

Malvoria's expression remained unreadable as she leaned forward slightly. "I need you to keep an eye on someone."

Nyssa's smile widened, intrigue lighting up her eyes. "Oh? And who might the unlucky soul be?"

"Zera," Malvoria replied, her tone sharp and clear. "I want to know everything. Who she speaks to, where she goes, what secrets she's keeping."

Nyssa nodded, her grin never wavering. "Consider it done."

"Discretion is paramount," Malvoria added coldly. "If she so much as suspects she's being watched..."

"She won't," Nyssa interrupted smoothly. "You know I'm better than that."

Malvoria gave a curt nod. "Good. I expect regular reports."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Nyssa replied before the orb flickered out, leaving Malvoria alone once more.

Malvoria leaned back in her chair, exhaling softly as she stared at the dagger. The weight of the night before still lingered in her mind—the tension, the danger... and the unexpected turn of events that had followed.

Her fingers traced the edge of the desk absentmindedly as memories of Elysia flashed through her thoughts.

The determination in her eyes when she held the dagger.

The sharp intake of breath when Malvoria disarmed her with ease.

The moment of stillness when their gazes locked, Elysia expecting death... and Malvoria choosing something entirely different.

What am I doing? Malvoria thought with a quiet sigh. She wasn't supposed to be drawn to Elysia like this.

The plan had been simple: marry her, secure the alliance, and wait for the inevitable. Once Elysia bore an heir, Malvoria would have no reason to remain close.

And yet...

Last night had awakened something she hadn't anticipated. Her body still craved the warmth of Elysia's presence, the softness of her touch, the fire in her gaze. But Malvoria couldn't afford to let herself become vulnerable. Not now. Not ever.

This is dangerous, she reminded herself firmly. You don't need her. You don't need anyone.

She sat up straighter, brushing off the lingering thoughts. Her path was clear. She had done what needed to be done.

Now all that was left was to wait—for the day Elysia would come to her with news that would secure Malvoria's legacy.

Until then, Malvoria thought coldly, there's no need to stay close.

She would keep her distance. She would let time take its course. And when the moment came, she would be ready.

But as much as she tried to convince herself, the faint memory of Elysia's touch still lingered like a stubborn ember refusing to die out.

Malvoria clenched her jaw, pushing the thought away.

This is nothing. It has to be.