Elysia's mind was lagging, stuck in an endless loop of Malvoria's words, replaying them as if they were carved into her very bones.
"My heart does weird things."
Elysia could still hear the quiet rasp of Malvoria's voice, still see the way those stormy grey eyes had softened just slightly, just enough to make Elysia's entire world tilt off its axis.
She had expected arrogance, teasing, perhaps even sothing cruelly manipulative—but not this. Not a confession that felt too raw, too real.
"And yet... when you smile—when you fight back, when you argue with like you aren't afraid—it does sothing to . Sothing I don't know how to stop."
Elysia's breath hitched just thinking about it.
Was that a love declaration?
No. No, that couldn't be it.
Could it?
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep walking beside Malvoria, her boots lightly tapping against the stone path.
The night air had grown cooler, crisp against her skin, but she barely noticed. Her mind was too tangled, too lost in the sudden storm Malvoria had thrown her into.
The Demon Queen—the very woman who had destroyed Elysia's ho, who had ripped her life apart and forced her into this marriage—was saying things that made Elysia's stomach twist in ways she refused to acknowledge.
This had to be a trick. So mind ga, so twisted attempt to unnerve her.
And yet...
Malvoria hadn't sounded like she was lying.
There had been sothing in her voice, sothing hesitant, almost reluctant. Elysia had seen Malvoria lie before, had seen her manipulate people with her sharp tongue and ruthless mind.
But back at the lake, she had been different. There had been no calculation behind her words, no hidden malice.
It had been—genuine.
Elysia exhaled sharply, pressing a hand against her forehead, her thoughts an absolute ss.
"No. No, I'm not falling for this."
And yet, the butterflies in her stomach fluttered rebelliously.
She clenched her jaw, trying to shove them back into their cage.
She had done so well, keeping herself guarded, keeping herself from feeling anything beyond frustration and duty.
She was supposed to hate Malvoria. She was supposed to remind herself every single day that this woman was her enemy.
So why did it feel so warm, so devastatingly warm, when Malvoria looked at her like that?
Why did her heart race every ti they fought, every ti they touched?
Elysia glanced at Malvoria from the corner of her eye.
The Demon Queen had gone back to her usual expression—calm, unreadable, as if the mont at the lake had never happened. The vulnerability she had shown was locked away now, hidden behind an impenetrable mask.
And that... annoyed Elysia more than she expected.
Did she not just say sothing monuntal? Did she not just admit that Elysia affected her?
So how could she just act normal now, as if none of it mattered?
It made Elysia want to scream.
Instead, she huffed under her breath, crossing her arms tightly, eyes fixed on the path ahead.
The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken words, with sothing that neither of them seed willing to address.
She wanted to say sothing—anything—but what could she even say?
"You just confessed sothing really important back there, do you want to talk about it?"
No. Too direct.
"What do you an by 'my heart does weird things'?"
No. Too risky.
"Are you in love with ?"
Absolutely not.
Elysia exhaled sharply, her head a whirlwind of thoughts she had no control over.
And then—
Malvoria took her hand.
Elysia nearly tripped over her own feet.
Her heart slamd against her ribs as Malvoria's fingers curled around hers, warm, steady, as if this was sothing they did all the ti.
She could have pulled away.
She should have pulled away.
But she didn't.
Instead, she let it happen, let their fingers remain tangled together as they walked.
Her pulse was roaring in her ears, drowning out every logical thought she tried to conjure.
It was ridiculous, how sothing so simple—sothing as insignificant as a handhold—could make her feel like the entire world had shifted beneath her feet.
Malvoria didn't say anything about it. She didn't glance at Elysia, didn't smirk or tease her like she normally would. She simply held her hand, her grip neither tight nor loose, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Elysia tried to focus on her breathing, tried to pretend that she wasn't internally combusting from sothing so stupid.
"It's just a hand," she told herself.
"It doesn't an anything."
But that was a lie, and she knew it.
Because if it didn't an anything, then why was her stomach twisting?
Why was her heart pounding?
Why was she gripping Malvoria's hand just as tightly?
The teleportation circle was just ahead now, glowing faintly in the dim light of the village outskirts.
Elysia exhaled quietly, trying—failing—to calm herself.
She should let go.
She should definitely let go before she did sothing stupid, like ask Malvoria why she was holding her hand in the first place.
But she didn't.
And Malvoria didn't either.
So they walked forward, together, fingers still intertwined, stepping onto the glowing circle.
And as the magic began to hum around them, Elysia couldn't help but think—
"What the hell is happening to ?"
The familiar sight of the towering castle lood before them as the teleportation light faded, leaving Elysia and Malvoria standing at the entrance.
The night air was cooler here, wrapping around them with a crispness that sent a faint shiver down Elysia's spine. The warmth of Malvoria's hand still lingered against her palm, though at so point, they had let go.
Malvoria turned to her, her expression unreadable in the dim glow of the torches that lined the castle walls. "Tonight," she said, her voice calm but firm, "you can sleep in your own room."
Elysia blinked, montarily thrown off by the statent. It shouldn't have surprised her—this was how things were supposed to be.
They were not lovers, not truly, and yet the past few nights had blurred the lines in ways that made her stomach twist.
Still, she nodded, swallowing whatever strange disappointnt tried to creep into her chest. "Alright," she murmured, turning toward the halls leading to her chambers.
She expected Malvoria to head in the opposite direction, toward her own quarters or perhaps her office, but instead, the Demon Queen fell into step beside her.
Neither of them spoke as they walked, the echoes of their footsteps the only sound in the long corridor.
When they reached Elysia's door, Malvoria stopped.
Elysia hesitated before turning to face her, uncertain of what to say. But before she could find the words, Malvoria reached forward, gently cupping the side of her face.
The touch was warm—so warm it made Elysia's breath hitch slightly. Then, slowly, Malvoria leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.
Elysia's eyes fluttered shut for just a mont, caught in the sensation, the tenderness of it.
When Malvoria pulled away, she murmured, "Goodnight."
And then, without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving Elysia standing there, staring after her, her heart thudding against her ribs.
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