Malvoria's feet barely touched the ground as she sprinted through the dense forest, her long crimson hair whipping wildly behind her. She wasn't thinking—she was moving.
Twelve kiloters.
It wasn't far.
It wasn't far enough to justify the burning rage building in her chest, clawing its way up her throat.
Her boots pounded against the damp earth, dust kicking up in her wake as she pushed herself faster, ignoring the sharp sting in her muscles.
Her assistant struggled to keep pace, panting heavily as he stumbled over roots and uneven terrain. "Y-Your Majesty—please, slow down—"
Malvoria didn't slow down. She didn't even look back.
"Talk," she ordered, her voice a sharp blade cutting through the night air. "Tell everything."
The assistant wheezed, barely able to form words between gulps of breath. "I—I don't know much, Your Majesty. The Queen—she trained with the soldiers in the morning... Everything seed normal... Then—then she just—" He took a deep breath. "Disappeared."
Malvoria's fingers twitched. Disappeared?
"What do you an, disappeared?" she snarled, vaulting over a fallen log without breaking stride.
The assistant flinched. "We lost track of her after training. No one saw her leave. No one knows where she went."
Malvoria's teeth clenched. That doesn't make sense. Elysia was stubborn, but she wasn't reckless. She wouldn't just vanish without telling anyone.
"And it's already night," the assistant added hesitantly, his voice uneasy. "She's been gone for hours."
Malvoria's heart pounded harder. Hours.
Had Elysia left of her own accord? No. That wasn't right. If she had planned sothing, Malvoria would have sensed sothing. But there was nothing. No lingering trace of her magic. No scent.
Nothing.
Which ant—soone took her.
Malvoria's vision darkened.
They reached the teleportation point, a circle of ancient runes carved into the earth. Malvoria barely waited for the spell to activate before stepping into the glowing sigils. The assistant stumbled after her, barely managing to keep up.
In a blink, the world shifted.
The castle gates appeared before them.
Malvoria stepped onto the stone path leading to the entrance, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, her senses sharp, searching—waiting for sothing, anything to guide her.
She sensed nothing.
No trace of Elysia. No lingering warmth of her presence. It was as if she had been wiped from existence.
Her hands curled into fists. Too far. That had to be it. Whoever had taken her had transported her far away—far enough that Malvoria couldn't reach her through magic, couldn't follow her scent.
That realization made sothing ugly coil in her chest.
Before she could decide where to start searching, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Can't you just localize her?"
Malvoria groaned internally.
Her mother.
She turned to see Veylira standing at the entrance of the castle, arms crossed, her silver hair gleaming under the torchlight. Her expression was far too amused for the situation.
Malvoria pinched the bridge of her nose. "No, Mother. I can't."
Veylira tilted her head, feigning confusion. "Why not? She's your wife, isn't she? You should have so sort of—oh, I don't know—mystical marital connection?"
Malvoria exhaled slowly, trying—failing—to keep her irritation in check. "That is not how this works."
Veylira tsked, tapping her chin as if deep in thought. "Are you sure? Because if it were , I'd at least be able to sense my beloved sowhere in the universe—"
"Mother," Malvoria growled.
Veylira smirked. "Oh, dear. This is serious, isn't it?"
Malvoria clenched her jaw so tightly it ached. "She's gone. No magic. No scent. No trail."
Her mother's smirk faded.
Silence.
Then—"Well, that's rather inconvenient."
Malvoria shot her a glare. "Inconvenient?"
"I an, yes," Veylira humd, folding her arms. "You've only been married a short ti, and you already lost her. Not the best record, darling."
Malvoria swore under her breath. "I didn't lose her."
"Really?" Veylira lifted a delicate brow. "Then where is she?"
Malvoria opened her mouth—then shut it.
Veylira smiled triumphantly. "See? You don't know." She sighed dramatically. "And here I thought you'd be obsessively attached to her by now."
Malvoria clenched her fists, fighting the urge to set sothing on fire.
Before she could retort, one of the guards approached hastily, a parchnt in hand. He looked... nervous.
"Your Majesty," the guard bowed. "This just arrived."
Malvoria snatched the parchnt from his hand, her eyes scanning the crude handwriting.
Her blood ran cold.
"If you want to see her back alive, give us five million gold coins."
For a long mont, no one spoke.
The air itself seed to still.
Malvoria's fingers tore through the parchnt as her vision darkened.
Five million?
That was it?
They wanted money?
Veylira peered over her shoulder, reading the ssage with a hum. "Oh, how traditional," she murmured. "A ransom note. How quaint."
Malvoria didn't answer.
Because she wasn't thinking anymore.
She was burning.
Her jaw tightened, her breath slow, controlled—but inside?
Inside, sothing was snapping.
Soone had touched what belonged to her.
And they were about to learn what hell truly looked like.
Malvoria stared at the torn parchnt in her hand, her fingers tightening around the edges as if she could crush the very words written on it.
Five million gold coins.
That was what they thought Elysia was worth? A re transaction, as if she were so object to be bartered?
The sheer audacity of it made Malvoria's blood boil. Her sharp claws pressed into the paper, nearly shredding it further, but she forced herself to breathe—slowly, deeply—even as the fire inside her raged.
Veylira watched her with a smirk, clearly enjoying the show. "Oh, dear," she drawled, eyes twinkling with amusent. "You look like you're about to burn down the entire castle."
Malvoria didn't bother responding. She had no words—only fury.
Her mind spun with questions. Who? Where? How? The ransom demand ant Elysia was alive—for now—but that also ant she was in the hands of people stupid enough to think they could get away with this.
They had no idea what they had just done.
Malvoria exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders as a dangerous smirk curved her lips. Her gray eyes glead with sothing cold, sothing lethal.
"I'm going to crush those stupid people."
And this ti, she ant it.
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