I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 322: Jealous Kaelith

If anyone in the demon realm had ever wondered what royal chaos truly looked like, all they needed to do was witness the Demon Queen’s family at lunch in a crowded village restaurant.

In theory, a quiet meal out would be a break from protocol, a gentle blend into village life.

In practice—well, Malvoria was starting to think the only thing blending was Kaelith’s food, most of which was finding its way onto every available surface except her mouth.

It began innocently enough: a waiter brought a bowl of honeyed roots, a plate of spiced rice, and a delicate tower of roasted meats, the scents mingling in the air, promising bliss.

Kaelith’s eyes grew huge. She seized the first spoonful of sweetroot before Malvoria could blink, shoving it in with an enthusiastic, "Yah!"

"Careful, darling," Elysia said, plucking the next spoon from Kaelith’s grasp as it hovered dangerously close to the edge of the table. "Slow down."

Kaelith, now in full performance mode, banged her palms against the table in rhythm, cackling gleefully as she sent a piece of meat rolling into Malvoria’s lap.

Malvoria retrieved it and, not to be outdone, made a show of tossing it in the air and catching it with her teeth.

Kaelith gasped in delighted horror, then tried to imitate the trick—missing entirely, and sending a piece of roasted carrot flying onto the next table.

Their neighbors—three elderly demons—looked over, expressions ranging from bemused to faintly scandalized, before one broke into a chuckle. "First time out, Majesty?"

Malvoria grinned, bowing her head in mock defeat. "Is it that obvious?"

"It’s the stains," the old woman confided. "All new parents come in wearing silk, and leave in whatever the kitchen provides to cover the damage."

Elysia, trying and failing not to laugh, handed Kaelith a napkin. Kaelith immediately attempted to eat it.

"Not food, little monster," Elysia chided, only half-serious.

Kaelith giggled and, in a moment of inspiration, dropped her napkin into her water cup and declared, "Magic!"

To Malvoria’s alarm, the water instantly fizzed and sparkled, purple fire leaping from the cup and transforming the napkin into a fluttering, slightly damp butterfly that took flight—buzzing around the ceiling and startling half the diners.

For a moment, everyone stared.

"Showoff," Malvoria whispered, her voice somewhere between pride and exasperation.

The chaos continued. Each new dish that arrived inspired a new experiment: rice became ammunition for Kaelith’s spoon-catapult; the honey glaze dripped over her fingers and was then wiped, lovingly, on Elysia’s sleeve.

Even Malvoria, who prided herself on iron discipline, found herself slipping Kaelith extra bits of the candied root, just to see the way her eyes lit up.

Meanwhile, Elysia tried valiantly to enforce some semblance of order. "One at a time, Kaelith—no, not in your hair—wait, darling, the fork is for the food, not for the wall—"

A chorus of laughter rippled through the room, the villagers clearly delighted to see the royal family acting as messy and mortal as the rest of them.

Even the innkeeper stopped by with a small plate of sugared fruit, bowing and whispering, "For the princess and her... spirited appetite."

Malvoria found herself grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. There was something incredibly grounding in this moment, chaos and all.

This was what she’d dreamed of—family, laughter, the absence of any crown but the one Kaelith made for herself with sticky hands and a bread roll.

By the time they reached dessert—spiced dumplings soaked in honey—Kaelith had already tried to charm the servers into more and was greeted with a wink and another spoonful.

Malvoria watched Elysia lean back, arms crossed, a smile dancing on her lips despite the small war-zone of crumbs, splatters, and purple magic in front of her.

"You know," Elysia said, as Kaelith demolished a dumpling with single-minded focus, "I think she’s actually slowing down."

"Don’t say it," Malvoria murmured, eyes wide in feigned fear. "You’ll jinx us. She’s only storing energy for later."

As if on cue, Kaelith looked up, cheeks sticky, hair wild, and announced, "Done!"

She then proceeded to attempt to climb out of her chair, ignoring both mothers’ efforts to wipe her down, and darted toward the window, where a butterfly—the same napkin from earlier—was perched on the glass.

Malvoria glanced at Elysia, who shrugged. "We can try for neatness again when she’s twenty."

After a lengthy (and mildly humiliating) negotiation that involved coaxing Kaelith away from the butterfly, retrieving her from under the next table, and promising a story for later, they finally paid and left.

The restaurant staff saw them off with good-natured waves, a few jokes about "royal stains," and a little bag of sweet biscuits "for the road."

Back out in the sun, Kaelith was oddly calm—probably, Malvoria guessed, from sheer exhaustion.

She dozed off on Elysia’s shoulder for a blissful, if brief, ten minutes, before waking up with a fresh spark in her eye.

It was only then that Elysia glanced at Malvoria, brushing crumbs off her tunic, and said, "Let’s go to the orphanage. It’s been a while—I’m wondering how Kael is doing."

Malvoria smiled, her heart softening. She knew Elysia’s affection for the children at the orphanage, especially Kael, who had charmed her from the start. "Of course. I think Kaelith will like meeting him again."

They took a winding route through the village, passing smithies, herb shops, and little clusters of children playing hop-and-fire in the dust.

Malvoria could feel eyes on them, but they were mostly curious, even affectionate. Kaelith waved at every dog, demon, and even a passing crow, shouting greetings in her peculiar mix of common tongue and childish babble.

By the time they reached the orphanage—an old stone building shaded by climbing wisteria—Kaelith was wiggling impatiently in Elysia’s arms, twisting and wriggling until Elysia set her down. She promptly ran to the gate, hands on the iron bars, peering inside with wide eyes.

The door creaked open, and a small figure darted out—Kael. He was seven now, but still had that elfin look, with short black hair that stuck up in unruly tufts and curved horns glinting above his brows.

His eyes were dark violet, bright with excitement. The moment he saw them, he broke into a run.

"Elysia!" he shouted, flinging his arms around her waist.

Elysia crouched down, gathering him up in a hug that nearly knocked them both over. "Kael! Look at you, you’ve grown so much—are you keeping everyone in line?"

Kael beamed up at her. "I tried, but Mistress Lyran says I have to use my words, not my horns."

Malvoria chuckled, crossing her arms. "A wise lesson."

Kaelith, for her part, stared at Kael with sudden, sharp interest. She toddled forward, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.

As Kael grinned up at Elysia, Kaelith squeezed herself between them, shoving at Kael’s arm until she’d wedged herself firmly in Elysia’s lap.

Kael blinked in confusion. "Hello, Princess Kaelith."

Kaelith scowled, one hand gripping Elysia’s dress, her lower lip sticking out in a pout.

She looked very much like she might unleash her purple magic at any moment—just a spark of jealousy, nothing dangerous, but Malvoria watched with a mixture of pride and faint horror.

Elysia, biting back a laugh, hugged both children close. "It’s all right, Kaelith. Kael’s an old friend."

Kaelith squinted up at Kael, clearly unimpressed, and then leaned her head against Elysia’s shoulder with a defiant, "Mine."

Malvoria exchanged a look with Elysia, both of them stifling smiles. Kael, bless him, seemed to take it as a challenge, and the two children eyed each other—Kael with shy curiosity, Kaelith with possessive determination.

The caretaker, Mistress Lyran, appeared in the doorway, her expression fond and slightly exasperated. "Back so soon, Your Majesty? Are you here to steal Kael away again?"

Malvoria bowed her head in greeting. "Not today. We only wanted to visit."

"Then you’re most welcome. The children have missed your stories, Elysia."

Elysia smiled. "We’ll have to see what Kaelith thinks about sharing."

Kaelith, still clinging to Elysia, glared up at Kael. Kael, undaunted, stuck out his tongue.

The two regarded each other for a long moment, then—suddenly and inexplicably—burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the old stones.