I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 174: It could be a great gift

The silence didn’t last long.

Elysia had barely managed to whisper that she was going to be sick before the maids descended upon her like an emotional tidal wave wrapped in lace and squeals.

"You’re pregnant!" Tilda cried, grabbing her hands and bouncing slightly. "You’re really pregnant! With a baby!"

"I—yes—I guess I am—" Elysia stammered.

"Oh my stars!" Arna exclaimed, fanning herself with a silk napkin. "A royal heir! A little one with your eyes and Malvoria’s glare!"

"I’m going to throw up," Elysia whispered again, eyes wide, still clutching the glowing crystal like it might vanish if she blinked.

She wasn’t ready for this.

Not emotionally. Not existentially. She’d just wanted a tart and some scandalous tea gossip.

Now she had a glowing magical stick confirming that her womb was the battleground for the next phase of diplomatic history.

She stumbled backward, sitting down hard on the edge of her bed, the test still in her hand.

"Breathe," Arna said gently, kneeling in front of her and taking the test from her trembling fingers.

"I am breathing," Elysia said weakly.

"You’re breathing like a dying accordion," Tilda offered.

Elysia glared, but there was no real bite to it. Her vision swam for a second, and she let herself flop back onto the mattress, hands over her face.

"This is insane."

"It’s not insane," Arna said, sitting beside her on the bed now, smoothing a hand through Elysia’s hair. "It’s unexpected. But not insane."

"We live in a demon castle. I’m married to the most feared ruler on the continent. I had a political marriage that somehow turned into actual feelings, and now I’m pregnant—how is this not insane?"

Tilda plopped down on the other side of the bed and shrugged. "Honestly, you’re doing better than I expected."

Elysia groaned into her hands. "I haven’t seen or talked with Zera yet."

"Oh. That’s awkward," another maid said from across the room.

"Don’t remind me."

There was a beat of quiet before another maidLinna, who usually stayed quiet and serious poke up gently.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Elysia peeked out from between her fingers.

"I’m scared," she said.

No sarcasm. No jokes. Just truth.

The maids didn’t laugh or tease. They didn’t roll their eyes or dismiss her with platitudes.

Instead, Arna leaned over and took both of her hands in hers, squeezing them gently. "Of course you’re scared. This is big. But you don’t have to go through it alone."

"Malvoria—"

"Will adore that baby," Tilda interrupted.

"You don’t know that."

"I do," Tilda said with certainty that made Elysia’s throat tighten. "She acts like a big scary wolf, but we all see how she looks at you."

"Like she’s debating world domination?"

"Like she’d set the world on fire just to keep you warm," Arna corrected.

Elysia’s heart gave a painful little lurch.

"She’ll be a good mother," Linna said softly.

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

Elysia sat up slowly, her chest heavy with emotion, and looked around the room at these women who’d once been strangers, staff, political decor but had, in the span of months, become something like family. Like warmth in a castle of cold stone.

They were already planning her future before she even knew how to hold it in her hands.

"I don’t even know how to be pregnant," she muttered. "Do I eat differently? Do I train less? What if I mess it up?"

"You’ll figure it out," Arna said. "And we’ll help you. Every step."

Elysia bit her lip. "I haven’t told her yet."

"You should."

"I will."

"Not yet," Tilda said suddenly, eyes gleaming with something suspicious. freewēbnoveℓ.com

Elysia narrowed her eyes. "What now?"

Tilda leaned in with a grin. "You know what next week is?"

"...No?"

"Malvoria’s birthday."

Elysia froze. "What?!"

"March thirty-seventh on the Demon Lunar Calendar," Arna supplied helpfully. "It falls on next Tuesday this year."

"She has a birthday?" Elysia asked, stunned.

"Yes. And she hates it."

Elysia blinked. "Of course she does."

"She refuses parties. Gifts. Public anything."

"She says birthdays are a mortal weakness," Tilda added with an exaggerated scowl meant to imitate Malvoria. "But I’ve seen her sneak a cookie on the night of."

"I am shocked."

"But," Arna said slowly, looking thoughtful now, "if there was ever a gift that might actually make her happy..."

Elysia stared at her.

"No. You think I should give her the pregnancy as a gift?"

"She wouldn’t see it like that."

"She might pass out."

"She’d love it," Linna said with quiet conviction. "She’d never expect it. And she’d never forget it."

Elysia’s stomach flipped again—but this time not with nausea.

With nerves. With something deeper.

Excitement.

Love.

The idea of seeing Malvoria’s face when she learned of her blinking in disbelief, trying to play it cool, maybe failing spectacularly it made Elysia smile before she even realized she was doing it.

"Okay," she whispered. "Okay. I’ll wait. But only if you help me figure out how to tell her."

"Oh, we’ll help," Tilda promised. "We’ll start planning tonight."

"We’ll make her cry."

"She doesn’t cry."

"She might."

"We’ll make her try."

They all started giggling, and for a few precious moments, the weight of it all lifted.

They weren’t in a throne room.

They weren’t navigating a kingdom at war.

They were just women, tangled in blankets and velvet cushions, dreaming of futures in soft voices and silliness.

And then, three knocks at the door.

Sharp. Steady.

Elysia’s heart jolted.

The maids all froze like misbehaving students caught in a sugar heist.

Tilda looked at her. "That’s her."

"Shit."

Arna shoved the glowing test under a pillow.

Tilda yanked the half-eaten tart out of Elysia’s hand.

Elysia stood, adjusted her hair, smoothed her dress, and tried not to look like she’d just found out she was pregnant in front of an audience.

Another knock.

"Elysia?" Malvoria’s voice, rich and calm. "Can I come in?"

Elysia turned, exhaled, and opened the door.