Wrong Script, Right Love Chapter 29: The Journey Begins

[Leif’s Chamber—Later]

ROOOOLLLLL...

The map of Frojnholm’s territory unraveled across the floor like so ancient scroll of doom, and I plopped down on my knees with the seriousness of a general plotting world domination.

"Alright..." I tapped the map dramatically. "Let’s see how many forests we’ve got to play hide-and-seek in."

Alvar leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching like I was performing in a circus he never bought tickets for.

I squinted hard at the map. "Hmm... the map is... damn huge. And verrrrrryyyy detailed."

"Maps," Alvar said dryly, "are usually detailed, Leif."

I nodded furiously, as if I agreed with the wisdom of the gods. Then my eye twitched. Slowly, I rolled the map back up, lifted it high above my head, and scread, "YES, THEY ARE DETAILED—TOO DETAILED! WHO EVEN NEEDS THIS LEVEL OF DETAIL?!"

I staggered toward the fireplace like a mad prophet ready to sacrifice parchnt to the flas. "I WILL BURN IT! I SWEAR TO THE GODS, THIS USELESS PILE OF LINES IS GOING TO BE ASH—"

"Leif."

Suddenly, Alvar’s arm hooked around , stopping my heroic execution of the map. He plucked it neatly from my grasp like I was a misbehaving child stealing sweets. "Don’t be ridiculous. Give it here—I’ll look for it."

I collapsed dramatically on the rug, groaning into the floor. "Ughhhh. I miss Doraemon."

Alvar blinked, rolling the map out again. "...What?"

I flipped onto my back, staring at the ceiling like a tragic poet. "A blue being—round, squishy, with a magical pocket in his belly! He could pull out anything. A door to anywhere! A map that actually shows where the elves are hiding! Even snacks when you’re starving!"

There was a pause. A very long pause.

Finally, Alvar raised an eyebrow. "...You expect to believe in a round, belly-pocket creature that hands out maps and food?"

"Yes!" I sat up with sparkling eyes. "Unlike this useless scroll of tree doodles, Doraemon had his life together."

Alvar exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over his face. "You are... unbelievable."

"I am believable!" I countered, slapping the rug. "You just don’t understand the beauty of convenience. Imagine—one ’anywhere door’ and bam! no forest hike, no muddy boots, no ’oh no, wild animals in the dark.’ Straight to the elves’ tea party."

"...And this Doraemon... he exists where, exactly?"

I folded my arms and huffed. "In a better world, Grand Duke. A better world."

Alvar’s lips twitched like he was fighting a smile, though his glacier eyes gave nothing away. "...Then for tonight, you’ll have to settle for instead of your belly-pocket fairy."

I groaned again, collapsing back onto the rug. "Great. I traded Doraemon for a grumpy Grand Duke. My life is truly tragic."

Without missing a beat, Alvar reached down and tugged toward him with terrifying ease—like I weighed nothing but a sack of feathers. "Alright," he said, voice calm but firm, "stop being dramatic. Let’s look for them properly."

I blinked up at him, lips pursed, then nodded with exaggerated obedience. "Fine... lead the way, oh mighty map reader."

We crouched over the parchnt together. Alvar leaned down, one gloved hand braced against the floor, his other finger tracing the map with precision. "This," he tapped a point near the edge, "is where we are currently."

"Mhm," I squinted so hard my eyes nearly crossed.

He circled his finger around the sprawling inked expanse. "And this... all of this... is the forest of Frojnholm."

I tilted my head, squinting harder. "I... see." (I did not see.)

He ignored my dubious tone and pointed to another section. "Here. This path leads toward Erindor’s capital city. Also the sa forest where you tad the Crimson pack."

"Ohhh, right," I nodded sagely, as if the information was settling into my skull. It wasn’t.

Alvar then shifted his finger toward another direction. "This is where we discovered the hot springs. The Trivium Core Stone was found nearby."

"Yup. Totally morized." I said, narrowing my eyes like a scholar, though the lines of ink blurred into absolute nonsense.

He gave a long look but continued anyway, patient as ever. "Which ans... these two forests near our border are unlikely hiding places." He tapped them firmly. Then, moving to the far side of the parchnt, he drew a circle with his finger. "Here. These are deeper. Untouched. No one’s ever ventured this far."

I nodded quickly, straightening up. "Thank you for telling ... but—" I scratched my head sheepishly. "I didn’t actually understand a single thing."

Silence.

Alvar set both hands on his waist and just... stared at . Flat. Expressionless. The kind of stare that could flatten kingdoms.

"I have," he said slowly, "a very long and very hard journey ahead with you."

I squinted back at him, suspicious. "...What do you an by that?"

He rose to his feet, already folding the map. "Let’s go. It’s going to be a long trip."

I scrambled up after him, clutching his arm dramatically. "Wait—wait—are you saying you’re having a hard ti being with ?"

"I did not say that." His voice was maddeningly even.

"But you ant it!" I accused, pointing a finger at his chest like a scandalized spouse.

His mouth twitched ever so slightly. "...Leif."

I gasped, stepping back. "Oh gods—you do an it. You’re tired of already! After all my charm, my beauty, my endless entertainnt—"

"Endless entertainnt," he repeated under his breath, like it was both a curse and a reluctant truth.

"See?!" I threw my arms in the air. "You admit it!"

"I admit nothing," he replied calmly, though his hand reached out to straighten the collar I had unknowingly twisted during my theatrics. The gesture was so casual, so husbandly, that I froze.

"...You’re not allowed to be sweet after insulting ," I mumbled, pouting.

Alvar’s lips curved in the faintest, rarest ghost of a smile. "Then stop making it so easy."

***

[Thorenvald Estate—Later, Night]

The cold bit through the night air, sharp and unforgiving. Snow crunched underfoot as I stood outside with Alvar, our two massive Crimson babies flanking us like royal bodyguards. My bag was strapped across my shoulder, stuffed with "essentials" (half of which were snacks).

I squared my shoulders dramatically, addressing Baron Sigurd and the gathered people. "Alright, Baron... the estate is in your hands. If you need anything—anything at all—you can trust, for the ti being, the crown prince and Princess Sirella. They still have... just a little sliver of humanity left."

Sirella’s jaw twitched so hard I thought her teeth might crack. "Hey. Are you insulting us?"

I widened my eyes in perfect innocence. "I? Insult? Never, your highness. I am but a humble, freezing, extraordinarily handso young master."

Sirella arched a brow, unimpressed. "Wow... I’ve never seen a man praise himself so shalessly."

I puffed out my chest, smug. "Well, now you have. Consider yourself blessed."

Her glare promised retribution. I smiled sweetly back. (Victory tasted delicious.)

"Leif," Alvar’s low voice cut through, steady and commanding. "Enough. We should leave."

I turned to him at once, tilting my head. "Wait. Where’s my horse?"

He was already mounting his stallion, movents smooth as always. "We don’t need another horse, Leif." He stretched a hand toward . "Co up. Quickly."

I gawked at him, scandalized. "Again? You expect to share a saddle with you? Do you know what this does to my image?"

The Crimson babies huffed, clearly unimpressed with my dramatics.

Alvar’s hand didn’t waver. "Up."

I groaned, muttering for the entire estate to hear, "This is how a dignified lord slowly transforms into a backpack."

In one sharp tug, he pulled up onto the saddle, right front of him, like it was the most natural thing in the world. My legs dangled awkwardly for a mont before I managed to settle—grumbling all the way.

I turned, giving the people my brightest smile and most royal wave. "I will co back soon! Take care of everything, don’t drink all the ale without , and rember—if Baron Sigurd starts singing again with his belly, you’re allowed to throw snowballs at him."

The maids and knights laughed, so even waving back with genuine warmth.

And then, with the cold wind cutting across our faces and the Crimson babies padding alongside, we rode out of the Thorenvald estate—toward the dark forests and toward the elusive elves.

I leaned back just a little, muttering under my breath, "One day I’ll get my own horse. And then, Grand Duke, you’ll be the one riding behind ."

Alvar’s quiet chuckle rumbled against my back. "We’ll see about that. But for now, hold the reins tighter... or else you might fall."

I imdiately tightened my grip on the reins. "Yes."

Alvar’s gaze lingered on as we moved forward, and then, softer than the winter wind, he said, "You can lean on . I won’t let you fall."

I tilted my head up at him, searching those glacier-blue eyes for a second before finally leaning back against his chest. "...Alright."

The cold didn’t bite as sharply anymore. The snow glittered under the moonlight, the estate lights shrinking in the distance, while the vast northern forests stretched before us—silent, endless, and brimming with secrets untold.

And just like that, the search for the vanished elves began.