Malvoria stood before the grand orphanage, her sharp gaze sweeping over its pristine exterior. The building was impressive—lavish, even. White stone walls glead under the afternoon sun, the carved wooden doors polished to perfection.
The gardens surrounding the entrance were neatly trimd, vibrant demon flowers blooming in an array of deep reds and purples. The very sight of it filled Malvoria with a rare sense of satisfaction.
She had ensured that orphanages across her kingdom were well-funded. She had spared no expense in providing for the children under her rule. And here was proof of that effort—a place that looked fit for nobility, not forgotten youth.
She turned to Elysia, expecting so kind of mocking remark, so sarcastic jab about how wonderful and generous she was.
But Elysia wasn't looking at her.
She was staring at the orphanage, lips pressed together, brows furrowed in deep thought.
And then, without hesitation, she stepped forward, her focus elsewhere.
Malvoria frowned.
Sothing about the way Elysia moved—sothing about the way she looked at this place—felt off.
Still, she followed.
The mont they stepped inside, a wave of exaggerated politeness hit them like a well-rehearsed performance.
"Your Majesty!"
"And your lovely wife!"
"What an honor to have you here."
The caretakers were already assembled in the grand entryway, dressed in fine silks and embroidered robes—far too fine for simple orphanage workers. Their smiles were too wide, their voices too sweet, dripping with empty flattery.
Malvoria had seen this kind of performance many tis before.
Elysia, however, barely spared them a glance.
She wasn't listening to their greetings. She wasn't acknowledging their bows or their excessive gestures.
She was looking for the children.
Malvoria didn't know why that made sothing tighten in her chest.
Then—
A small gasp ca from the side.
A little demon boy peeked out from behind a wooden beam, eyes wide in recognition.
"It's you!" he shouted, his tiny voice ringing through the hall.
And before Malvoria or the caretakers could react, the boy bolted toward Elysia, his tiny feet barely making a sound against the polished floor.
He crashed into her, wrapping his arms around her waist with all the strength his small body could muster.
Elysia barely had ti to catch her breath before other children peeked out—hesitant at first, then bold—rushing toward her like a wave breaking free.
A dozen small hands tugged at her dress, at her arms, all of them speaking at once.
"You ca back!"
"You're real!"
"I thought I imagined you!"
Elysia laughed, a real laugh, as she knelt down, embracing them, ruffling hair, whispering soft words in return. She held them all, her touch gentle, her voice softer than Malvoria had ever heard it.
Malvoria stood back, watching in silence.
Sothing stirred inside her, sothing she couldn't quite place.
She had assud Elysia's insistence on coming here was about proving a point. She had thought this was about catching the caretakers in a lie, about holding Malvoria's own governance accountable.
But now, watching the way the children clung to her—watching the way she held them, the way she knew them, the way they knew her—Malvoria felt an unfamiliar sensation crawl up her spine.
Sothing close to admiration.
Sothing dangerous.
She clenched her jaw, pushing it away.
One of the caretakers—an older woman with graying hair and a too-perfect smile—stepped forward, hands folded neatly in front of her.
"My Queen," she said smoothly, bowing just enough to appear respectful, "you honor us with your presence."
Malvoria barely spared her a glance.
She was still watching Elysia.
Still watching how easily she fit here.
Still watching how the children clung to her like she was their lifeline.
The woman's smile wavered slightly, but she recovered quickly. "We are so grateful for your generosity, Your Majesty. These children have been blessed to grow up under your rule."
Malvoria's gaze finally snapped to her.
The woman flinched.
As she should.
Elysia, however, was still focused on the children, her hands gentle as she brushed away a smudge of dirt from one of their cheeks.
"I want to see the rest of the orphanage," Elysia said suddenly, her voice carrying authority that Malvoria had never quite heard from her before.
The caretakers stiffened.
"Oh, but of course, Lady Elysia," the woman said quickly, her smile too tight. "Perhaps after so tea? You must be tired after your journey."
Elysia's expression didn't change.
"I'm not."
The air in the room shifted.
Malvoria felt it—felt the silent challenge in Elysia's voice, the way the caretakers hesitated just a fraction too long before nodding.
"Very well," the woman said, still smiling, but now it was strained. "We will prepare a tour at once."
Elysia stood, brushing dust from her dress, and turned to Malvoria.
And for the first ti since they arrived, their eyes t.
Malvoria knew that look.
It was the sa look Elysia had worn the first ti she challenged Malvoria back in the castle. The sa look she had when she refused to kneel.
Malvoria didn't say anything.
She just smirked.
Because this—
This was going to be interesting.
The tension between Elysia and the caretakers was palpable, lingering in the air like an unspoken challenge. Malvoria didn't miss the way the woman's fingers twitched slightly, nor the way the other staff exchanged wary glances.
It was almost amusing.
These people were used to polished words and empty gestures, but they weren't prepared for soone who actually cared.
Elysia, however, seed to tire of the conversation entirely. With one last glance at Malvoria—sothing unreadable passing between them—she turned back to the children, her entire deanor shifting.
"Alright," she said, clapping her hands together. "Who wants to play?"
A chorus of excited voices rang out, the tension in the room lting away instantly.
The children scrambled, their little feet pattering across the polished floors as they rushed to grab toys, wooden swords, and anything else they could use in their pretend gas.
One particularly bold child tugged on Elysia's hand. "You have to be on our team," he insisted.
Elysia laughed, kneeling down to his level. "Oh? And what exactly are we playing?"
"The great battle of heroes and villains!" another child declared proudly.
Malvoria huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head.
Reviews
All reviews (0)