The door clicked shut behind Malvoria, sealing off the lingering tension from Elysia's room.
She exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders as if trying to shake off the weight of the conversation. But before she could take more than two steps down the hallway, a muffled thud echoed through the corridor.
Malvoria's sharp gray eyes flicked downward.
There, sprawled in an undignified heap on the polished marble floor, were three wide-eyed maids and, to Malvoria's utter exasperation, her mother, Veylira.
Malvoria blinked once, slowly, as silence stretched between them like an awkward pause in a poorly written play.
"Are you serious?" she deadpanned, crossing her arms.
One of the maids, cheeks blazing red, scrambled to her feet. "Y-Your Majesty! W-We were just—uh—passing by!"
"Passing by?" Malvoria repeated, unimpressed. "With your ear pressed to the door?"
