I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 80: Your timing was impeccable

The weight of exhaustion settled deep in Elysia's bones, but the moment Malvoria stepped toward her, everything else faded into the background.

The restraints around her wrists and ankles loosened with a flick of Malvoria's claws, the thick ropes falling to the ground in a heap. Elysia exhaled, rolling her stiff shoulders, feeling the sharp sting of where the bindings had bitten into her skin.

She was free.

And Malvoria—Malvoria had come for her.

They hadn't exchanged words, but they didn't need to. The warmth in Malvoria's gaze, the way her body positioned itself slightly between Elysia and the rest of the ruined hideout, was enough.

Elysia swallowed, shifting her gaze to the rest of the room.

The demon soldiers who had been kidnapped with her were standing nearby, bruised but not critically injured. They looked relieved—grateful even—but the moment their eyes flickered between Elysia and Malvoria, something changed.

The smirks started.

"Queen Malvoria," one of them—a tall, scarred demon named Rael—cleared his throat. "Your timing was impeccable."

Another soldier, a younger one with short horns, grinned. "Truly. A dramatic entrance, flames and all. Very romantic."

Elysia felt a flicker of heat crawl up her neck.

Before she could scowl at them, she tried to stand. But the moment she pushed herself up, the exhaustion came crashing down, her legs weak beneath her.

Malvoria didn't hesitate.

Strong arms wrapped around her in an instant, lifting her off the ground as if she weighed nothing.

"I will carry you," Malvoria said, her tone brooking no argument.

Elysia froze, blinking up at her.

There were very few moments in her life where she had been caught entirely off guard.

This was one of them.

The soldiers, of course, did not let the moment pass in silence.

"Oh?" Rael's smirk widened. "Carrying her in your arms, Your Majesty? That's quite—"

"Romantic," the younger one added eagerly.

Malvoria barely spared them a glance. "Keep talking," she said smoothly, "and I will make you run back to the castle."

The teasing immediately stopped.

Elysia sighed, feeling her face heat despite herself.

She thought about protesting, about saying she could walk on her own.

But... her body hurt. Her limbs ached, and despite her pride, she found herself sinking slightly into Malvoria's warmth.

Malvoria adjusted her grip, as if sensing Elysia's surrender, before turning toward the ruins' exit. "Bring the woman," she ordered, her tone sharp. "I'm not finished with her yet."

The soldiers obeyed, grabbing the barely-conscious rebel from the ground, before following their queen out of the wreckage.

There was no teleportation point nearby. No magic circle to make this faster.

Which meant Malvoria had only one option.

She ran.

The world blurred around them as Malvoria moved at an impossible speed, the wind whipping through Elysia's hair as they cut through the dense forest.

The trees flickered past in streaks of green and brown, the leaves rustling violently as Malvoria's boots barely skimmed the ground.

The demon soldiers trailed behind, keeping pace as best they could.

Elysia, pressed against Malvoria's chest, let out a slow breath.

It was infuriating how effortless Malvoria made this look.

"I can walk," she muttered after a while, her voice muffled against the fabric of Malvoria's clothes.

Malvoria snorted.

"No, you cannot."

Elysia narrowed her eyes. "I can."

Malvoria's grip didn't loosen. If anything, she held her tighter.

"You are too stubborn," Malvoria said simply.

Elysia scowled. "And you're too much."

A small, amused hum rumbled in Malvoria's chest. "Yes."

Elysia opened her mouth to argue more, but something in Malvoria's tone—something warm, something solid—made her stop.

They didn't speak after that.

The journey stretched on, the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of Malvoria's running the only sound between them.

Eventually, the thick forest gave way to open plains, and in the distance, looming like a dark monolith against the night sky—

The castle.

They had arrived.

Malvoria slowed her pace, her grip still steady, her breath unlabored.

Elysia exhaled, looking up at the towering fortress, its obsidian walls gleaming under the moonlight.

She was home.

The castle gates loomed before them, the grand structure standing as imposing as ever under the glow of the moon. Malvoria slowed her steps as they reached the entrance, her muscles finally relaxing after the relentless run.

She barely had a moment to catch her breath before something felt wrong.

Something was... off.

Her sharp gaze swept over the castle's façade, her eyes narrowing as she took in—

The decorations.

The once-imposing obsidian walls, which had stood dark and menacing for centuries, were now adorned with warm-toned banners.

Pink and beige roses trailed along the archways, their delicate petals fluttering in the night breeze. The usual stark, cold atmosphere had been replaced with something suspiciously inviting.

Malvoria's frown deepened.

Then, deadpan, she muttered, "Who vomited on my castle?"

Silence.

Then—

A small, breathless snort escaped from Elysia.

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Malvoria turned her head slightly, arching a brow at her.

"I—" Elysia pressed her lips together, clearly holding back laughter. "I think it looks better."

Malvoria slowly blinked. "Better?"

"Yes."

Malvoria's expression twisted into one of pure offense, as if Elysia had just personally insulted her.

"These... flowers," Malvoria said, gesturing vaguely at the roses with a look of utmost disgust, "are covering my castle. My demon castle. The very fortress that has struck fear into the hearts of countless generations."

Elysia tilted her head. "And now it strikes warmth into the hearts of visitors."

Malvoria stared at her. "We do not welcome visitors."

Elysia, despite her exhaustion, smirked. "We do now."

Malvoria let out a slow, suffering sigh, shaking her head. "This is a disaster."

The conversation was cut short by the sudden arrival of movement from the other side of the courtyard.

The castle doors burst open, and a group of figures rushed toward them. Healers, dressed in deep violet robes, moved swiftly with their supplies, while behind them came two familiar figures—Zera and Thalor.

Zera was the first to speak.

Her stormy gaze locked onto Elysia, flickering over her bruises, the dried blood on her skin, the way she was still in Malvoria's arms. Then, her glare shifted to Malvoria.

"Put her down."

Malvoria arched a brow. "No."

Zera bristled.

Thalor, ever the composed one, exhaled. "Malvoria, we need to treat her."

Malvoria didn't budge.

The demon soldiers, still standing behind her, seemed to sense the tension building and subtly took a step back, as if they knew better than to get involved.

Elysia sighed. "Malvoria."

Malvoria glanced down at her.

"Take me to my room," Elysia murmured. "Let the healers work there."

For a moment, Malvoria said nothing.

Then, with an unreadable expression, she shifted Elysia's weight slightly in her arms and, without another word, strode into the castle.

Zera grumbled something under her breath but followed.

The journey to Elysia's chambers was silent, save for the occasional murmur of the healers behind them.

The warmth of the castle's interior wrapped around them like a cocoon, the newly decorated halls dimly lit with golden lanterns. Malvoria, despite herself, still wasn't over the flowers.

Finally, they reached Elysia's room. Malvoria stepped inside, ignoring the startled maids who quickly rushed to prepare the space. She carefully set Elysia down on the bed, her movements surprisingly gentle for someone so lethal.

Elysia sighed as she sank into the soft sheets, exhaustion tugging at her limbs.

The healers wasted no time, moving around her as they began their work, their hands glowing faintly with magic.

Zera lingered near the door, her arms crossed, watching the process with sharp eyes. Thalor, standing beside her, studied Malvoria with quiet curiosity.

Malvoria, however, didn't leave.

She stood near the bed, arms folded, watching every motion, every healing spell, every single thing that was done to Elysia.

Even when the healers declared that the worst of her injuries had been tended to, even when Zera and Thalor eventually left after making sure Elysia was stable—

Malvoria remained.

The room was quiet now, the warm glow of the lanterns casting soft shadows across the walls.

Elysia, still tired but far more comfortable now, let her gaze drift toward Malvoria.

The queen was standing near the door, as if deciding whether to leave or not.

And for reasons Elysia couldn't quite explain—

She didn't want her to leave.

So, before Malvoria could take another step, Elysia reached out—

And took her hand.