NOVEL NEXT Chapter 29: She's inside your head
The air between them was heavy, thick with something unspoken, something too dangerous to name.
Elysia could still feel the heat of Zera's lips on hers, still feel the way her heart pounded against her ribs, too fast, too wild.
Zera stood there, unmoving, her blue eyes burning with frustration—not just frustration, something deeper, something sharper. Her breathing was uneven, her jaw clenched as if she were fighting back words she wasn't sure she should say.
Elysia turned away.
She had to.
If she met Zera's gaze for too long, if she let herself dwell on the lingering warmth between them, she wouldn't be able to stop herself.
The kiss had shaken something loose inside her, something she had kept buried beneath duty and responsibility, beneath the reality of their situation.
She had never run from Zera before.
But right now, she needed distance.
Elysia took a step back, forcing her voice to remain steady. "We can't."
"Can't?" Zera's voice was rough, as if the word itself hurt to say. "Or won't?"
Elysia's fingers curled into fists at her sides. "You know why."
"No, I don't." Zera took a step forward, closing the space between them again. "Because last I checked, you were the one kissing me back."
Elysia flinched.
Zera wasn't wrong.
That was what made it worse.
That was what made it dangerous.
"This isn't the time—"
"When is it ever the time, Elysia?"
The words hit like a blade, sharp and true.
Zera exhaled sharply, shaking her head, running a hand through her dark hair. "You let her get to you."
Elysia's eyes snapped to hers. "What?"
"Malvoria." Zera's voice was low, almost accusing. "She's inside your head."
Elysia hated how much those words unsettled her.
She hated that some part of her knew there was truth in them.
But she wouldn't admit it.
She couldn't.
"This has nothing to do with Malvoria," Elysia said, her voice sharper than she intended. "This is about us."
"Then why are you running?"
Elysia's breath hitched.
The weight of it all pressed against her, the kiss, the fight, the everything.
And then—
A soft knock at the door.
Both of them froze.
Elysia turned just as the door cracked open, revealing a demon maid standing there, her hands neatly folded in front of her. She didn't step inside, but her expression was polite, carefully neutral.
"Princess," the maid said smoothly, "it is time for lunch."
The tension in the room shattered.
Elysia exhaled slowly, forcing herself to breathe, to think.
She needed space. She needed control.
She needed to not be standing here with Zera staring at her like she was breaking something between them.
"Tell them I'll be down soon," Elysia said, her voice calm, collected. "I need to bathe first."
The maid nodded once before retreating, closing the door behind her.
Elysia turned away from Zera.
"I need to bathe," she muttered. "We trained earlier. I smell like sweat and dirt."
Zera said nothing.
And for once, the silence was worse than any argument.
---
The warm water enveloped Elysia as she sank deeper into the bath, letting her body relax in the massive stone tub. The faint scent of lavender and something else—something rich and slightly spiced, probably from the expensive oils the demons used—filled the air, curling in the steam that rose around her.
She needed this.
She needed the heat, the quiet, the moment to herself.
Everything felt tangled in her head—her fight with Malvoria, the tension with Zera, the kiss.
Especially the kiss.
She exhaled sharply, letting the water slip over her shoulders as she leaned her head back against the smooth edge of the tub.
Zera had been gone when she stepped out of her chambers, leaving nothing behind but the heavy silence of her absence.
Elysia knew she should have gone after her.
Should have said something.
But she hadn't.
She had gone straight to the bath instead, stripping out of her clothes with methodical precision, trying not to think about the way Zera had looked at her, the way she had whispered, you're the only one I love before pressing her lips against Elysia's.
A mistake.
A beautiful, painful mistake.
Elysia shut her eyes.
She needed to focus.
To think about anything else.
Her mind drifted, almost against her will, back to her fight with Malvoria.
The way she had moved. The effortless grace, the raw, controlled strength behind every swing of her blade.
Fighting her had been—
Fun.
That was the word.
It had been fun.
It had been infuriating, too. But there had been something almost exhilarating about it, something different than every other fight Elysia had been in before.
Malvoria had fought with one hand.
One hand.
The thought made Elysia let out a quiet, humorless laugh.
It had been a taunt, of course. A show of power.
And yet—
Somehow, it hadn't felt cruel.
Not really.
Elysia's fingers tightened slightly against the water.
She needed to stop thinking about it.
She needed to stop thinking about her.
Malvoria was the enemy.
No matter how strange the past few days had been, no matter how oddly normal things felt in this cursed castle, that truth would never change.
With a sharp breath, Elysia sat up and reached for the towel.
The moment the cool air hit her damp skin, she forced her thoughts into silence.
She wrapped herself in the plush fabric, padding over to the dressing area where, as expected, fresh clothes had already been prepared.
A dress.
Of course.
It was always a dress.
She ran her fingers over the fabric, the deep sapphire blue shimmering under the light, silver embroidery trailing along the edges in delicate patterns that mimicked vines and leaves.
It was beautiful.
And that was what made it infuriating.
Malvoria had an eye for these things.
Whether or not she had personally picked this one out didn't matter.
It still felt like she had.
Elysia scowled slightly but dressed quickly, refusing to linger on the thought for too long.
She was just fastening the last button when—
A knock.
Sharp. Precise.
Not a servant's knock.
Not Zera's.
Elysia's breath caught.
She stepped toward the door, hesitating for only a second before pulling it open.
And standing there—
Tall. Composed. Eyes gleaming with something unreadable—
Was Malvoria.