[Leif’s POV — Thorenvald Estate, Frojnholm—Continuation]
After that night in the white realm—when the old woman handed me this strange marble and whispered about "chaining the devil"—I’d tried to uncover everything I could about the real Leif.
I hired information guilds, mercenaries, and even a few questionable fortune-tellers. But every lead led to the same picture—The original Leif trailing after Elowen like a lovesick puppy. Loyal, foolish, and utterly ordinary.
No divine records. No secret bloodline. No hint of power. Nothing that could explain why I, of all people, ended up here—wearing his face, wielding his name.
And yet, my sealed divine powers... The truth behind them... It all circled back to him.
The dead Leif.
I leaned back against the railing, staring at the faintly glowing marble in my palm. "Should I tell Alvar?" I muttered under my breath.
Immediately, I shook my head. "No... If I do, he’ll ask questions. Too many. And to answer them, I’d have to tell him the truth—that the real Leif is already dead."
My thoughts tangled in a painful knot. "Ugh... thinking is hard," I groaned. "No wonder kings go bald early."
"Brother!"
A familiar voice broke through my mental chaos.
Alina tugged at my sleeve, her eyes wide and sparkling like twin stars. "Brother, brother! Can I play with the Crimson Packs?"
Her excitement was so pure that my brain cells immediately surrendered. I smiled. "Sure, why not?"
Her expression wavered, half-excited, half-wary. "But... they don’t bite, right?"
Nick, ever the calm shadow at my side, stepped in smoothly. "Why don’t we go see, Miss Alina? I’m sure they’ll behave for you."
I followed as they walked over to the courtyard, where my crimson pack was lounging—massive, sleek, red-coated beasts that looked like they were born from sunlight and fire.
Alina hesitated, then reached out a trembling hand. Nick guided her fingers gently. The pups sniffed her curiously... then one licked her palm.
Alina’s entire face lit up. "They don’t bite! They’re so soft!"
She giggled as two more licked her cheeks, wagging their tails like overgrown children. And for a moment, the courtyard felt... warm. Human.
Then Zephyy, perched on her shoulder, narrowed his golden eyes and hissed like a jealous little gremlin.
"You all—away from my Master’s sister!" he snapped, wings flaring. "She is mine! Solely mine!"
Of course, all anyone else heard was a series of high-pitched chirps and growls.
I rubbed my temple. "Here we go again..."
Zephyy puffed up, glaring at the crimson pack. "I should reveal my true form! Let’s see if she likes you red-furred beasts after she sees me!"
Nick blinked, half-bemused. "What’s wrong with Zephyy?"
I sighed, trying not to laugh. "Possessive jealousy. Dragon edition."
The pups merely yawned in response, utterly unbothered by the blue cat threats.
Alina laughed, hugging Zephyy to her chest before he could throw a tantrum. "Let’s play with them, Zpehyy."
"WHAT!!!!!!!!" he hissed. "I will never play with these idiots!!"
I smiled faintly. It was a rare, peaceful moment—one that almost felt normal.
Almost.
Because beneath the laughter and the warmth, the marble against my chest was still glowing. A faint pulse. Slow. Rhythmic. Unrelenting.
Even surrounded by family, safety, sunlight—It kept beating. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere, not far away, something—or someone—was beating back.
I lifted the marble; its glow reflected in my eyes like a heartbeat made of light. "What are you...?" I murmured. "A key? A curse? Or both?"
The glow flickered once—almost as if it understood. Before I could test the thought, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Leif," Father called from my study. "Come inside. We need to talk."
His tone was calm, but there was weight beneath it—the kind that usually says...tell me, what did you do in Forjnholm until now?
"Yes, Father," I replied, tucking the marble beneath my shirt.
As I walked toward the office, the light dimmed again, as if hiding itself. Or waiting.
The corridor was quiet except for my footsteps echoing off the marble floor. Sunlight slanted through the tall windows, dust motes drifting lazily in the air—so peaceful, so ordinary.
But deep down, I knew something had shifted.
And I couldn’t explain why the back of my neck prickled with unease, like invisible eyes were watching me cross that hall.
But who would’ve known—that the answers I’d been searching for would soon be unearthed...by someone small, innocent, and only six years old.
My little sister, Alina.
***
[Leif’s POV — Later, toward Leif’s chamber—Hallway]
"Ugh... why does Father have to know every detail about everything that happened in Frojnholm?" I grumbled, dragging my exhausted body down the corridor like a tragic war hero.
I’d just spent two full hours explaining how the dwarves joined our territory, how the Raventon wine deal worked, and how and what I am planning for the future of Frojnholm.
By the time I reached my chamber, my soul had left my body twice and sent me a resignation letter.
"Only one thing can give me strength now," I muttered darkly. "The one, true, unstoppable force of this world—"
I shoved the door open with the dramatic flair of a stage actor. "THE POWER... OF LOVE!"
SLAM!
"Alvar....My dearest fiancé," I yelled as I walked inside.
Alvar looked up from his desk, blinking like a startled scholar caught mid-thesis.
"Leif?" he asked slowly, one brow arching. "What’s—"
I closed the door. Click. Clack. LOCK.
Then, narrowing my eyes like a man on a mission, I announced with utmost conviction:"Let’s have sex."
Alvar froze, quill midair. "...Pardon?"
"Don’t ’pardon’ me," I said, marching toward him like a soldier advancing on destiny. "I’ve endured three hours of political reports, two interruptions from Father, and one emotional collapse from Mother—and if I don’t reset my brain, I’ll die."
He leaned back, fighting a smile. "So your solution to exhaustion... is me?"
"Yes," I declared. "Science would agree. You are my emotional support Grand Duke."
A slow, amused grin curved his lips. "Oh? And what kind of... support are we talking about?"
"The kind," I said, unbuttoning my collar with the gravity of a general preparing for war, "that involves zero thinking and maximum love."
Alvar sighed—fondly, exasperatedly. "You’re incorrigible."
"I’m brilliant," I corrected. "Now stop resisting my therapy."
Alvar chuckled, setting his quill aside with that knowing, amused patience only he could manage. "Fine, my dramatic disaster. But..." He leaned back in his chair, voice dropping low. "You’re doing everything this time."
"Oh, gladly," I said, slipping onto his lap with a grin that could qualify as criminal. My fingers went straight for his buttons. "Don’t worry. I’m fully motivated today."
His brow arched. "Motivated?"
"I’m going to devour you," I murmured, smirking as I tugged open his shirt.
He met my gaze, that teasing glint lighting his eyes. "We’ll see about that."
"Challenge accepted," I breathed, tossing his shirt somewhere behind me. I opened my mouth wide open to eat his chest—
"My lord—!"
Nick’s voice shattered the air like an alarm bell.
I froze. Deadpan. "Why... why does he always—"
"Leif," Alvar started carefully.
But I was already on my feet, muttering, "This better be life or death or I swear—"
I flung open the door, irritation ready to explode—Only to stop cold. Nick stood there, pale and breathless, eyes wide with panic.
"My lord..." He swallowed hard. "Miss Alina is missing."
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
"... What do you mean missing?"
Nick’s voice trembled. "She was playing with the crimson packs near the stables. One of the maids said she followed them into the forest edge—Zephyy went with her, but still—she hasn’t come back."
For a second, I couldn’t breathe. My heart slammed against my ribs, loud and sharp.
"She went out... alone?" I whispered.
Nick nodded. "Yes, my lord."
Alvar was already up, slipping on his shirt, calm but taut with focus. "Leif," he said quietly, "we’ll find her. She can’t have gone far."
I yanked my shirt back on, every motion jerky with fear. "Zephyy is with her," I muttered, half to myself, half as a prayer. "He’ll protect her. He has to."
Alvar stepped closer, steadying me with a firm hand. "She’s your sister, Leif. She’s clever—and she’s not alone. We’ll bring her back."
I nodded, forcing myself to breathe, but the dread in my chest wouldn’t leave.
Because deep down, something in me knew—this wasn’t just a child wandering off.
Somewhere beyond the walls of Thorenvald, in the wild stretch of forest where the crimson packs roamed—the marble under my shirt pulsed once, faint and red, like a heartbeat answering another.
And I suddenly had a terrible feeling that the thing I’d been searching for...had just found her first.