Wrong Script, Right Love Chapter 61: Farewell, Frojnholm—Hello Chaos

[Leif’s POV—On the Morning of Departure—Thorenvald Estate—Frojnholm]

’...Master...’

Zephyy perched on my shoulder, tail flicking like a trono of doom. His golden serpent eyes, however, were not on the scenery. It was at my butt.

I narrowed my eyes. ’What?’

He gave a long, dramatic pause, then muttered in my head through telepathy:

’...So... your monstrous boyfriend is actually a monster—’

’Shut it,’ I hissed imdiately, clutching his tiny paw. ’Utter one more word and I swear, I’m leaving you behind. No capital, no city food, no shiny things. You’ll stay here chewing on moss.’

His eyes blinked wide, then narrowed with a flick of disdain. ’...Tch. I was only being concerned. I could’ve healed you myself, you know.’

’NO THANKS.’ I jabbed a finger at him. ’If Alvar sees anyone—anyone—lay a hand on my ass, whether it’s a healer, priest, or half-baked dragon in kitten cosplay, he’ll kill them on the spot.’

Zephyy blinked once. ’...But. I. Am. A. Dragon. No mortal being can harm .’

I smirked. ’And a man in love is more dangerous than any dragon, Zephyy. Trust .’

For once, the smug little cat went silent, his golden eyes shifting toward Alvar—who, at that mont, was shooting daggers at Sir Roland, who was standing politely behind .

Yeah. Case closed.

Before Zephyy could retort, Nick stepped forward, crisp and neat as always, bowing low. "My lord, all preparations are complete. The packs are ready, and I’ve packed every essential. Even the jewelry, in case you require it for... promotional appearances."

I bead. "Good, Nick. I knew I could count on you. Reliable as always."

Nick’s ears went a bit pink at the praise, but before I could tease him, Zephyy leapt gracefully from my shoulder onto Nick’s, curling smugly around his neck like a scarf.

’Alright, Master,’ he said with a flick of his tail. ’I’ll see you at the capital. You and Loverboy can... bond along the way.’

I blinked at him. ’Wait—you’re not coming with ?’

Zephyy settled in, eyes closing in a smug squint. ’Why should I? I don’t want to ddle between two lovers. God knows what things you’ll get up to on horseback.’

’Zephyy!’ I sputtered, glaring daggers. ’I will roast you into a furball if you don’t shut up!’

That was when Alvar stepped up behind , sliding his large, warm hand over my waist, possessive as ever. His deep voice rumbled right next to my ear.

"Alright," he said, smooth as sin. "It’s ti to leave."

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "Yes. Let’s go. Before I commit dragon-cat homicide in front of the entire pack."

Zephyy only purred louder on Nick’s shoulder.

Alvar glanced between and the kitten, brow furrowing in confusion. "...Dragon-cat?"

Oh. Right. I... hadn’t exactly told him about Zephyy’s true form.

Should I tell him?

. . .

. . ....Nah.

My entire body still ached like hell; my brain was already busy editing the pain into sothing survivable. Future Leif can handle angry-possessive-Alvar-ets-secret-dragon.

I turned instead to Baron Sigurd, who stood with his usual grave expression. "Take care while I’m away. If anything cos up, inform imdiately."

The Baron nodded. Then—just when I thought he’d dismiss formally—his eyes glinted with an almost mischievous spark. "Yes, my lord. Please go and..." he paused for effect, "...make sure you run the best fashion show ever."

I clenched my fist, eting his gaze with equal determination. "Don’t worry, Baron. I—Leif Thorenvald—will make the best Rainbow Fashion Show this world has ever seen."

We nodded at each other as though we had just sworn an oath before the gods.

Then Thalion practically bounced forward, his eyes sparkling brighter than any gemstone. "Leif! I’ll craft even more beautiful jewelry and send it to you imdiately! Just trust !"

I nodded solemnly, touched by his burning passion. "Yes. I’ll wait for your masterpieces."

Eryndor, standing nearby, muttered in flat disbelief, "Am I... seeing actual fire in your eyes, Thalion?"

Then he sighed heavily before turning to . "Should I send so dicines as well, Leif?"

"Yes, please," I said. "I’ll give them to the physicians in the capital... and maybe use them to bargain with the drug rchants."

"Good." He adjusted his glasses, then turned his gaze on Alvar with a pointed look. "I hope you find the answers you’re searching for, Grand Duke."

Alvar inclined his head slightly. "I will."

"Wait, what answers?" I cut in, narrowing my eyes. "What information are we talking about here?"

Alvar gave his most charming, too-smooth smile—the kind that usually ant he was hiding sothing. "Eryndor asked to look into so rare herbs. Nothing urgent."

"...Oh." I squinted at him, suspicious. "Just herbs?"

"Yes. Herbs," Alvar repeated, smile still plastered on.

Behind him, Zephyy yawned dramatically in Nick’s arms and muttered in my head: ’Lies. He’s hiding sothing from you, master. And you call suspicious.’

... Hiding sothing?

I squinted at Alvar, who was busy adjusting his gloves like a man with absolutely nothing to hide.

"We should depart, my lord," Sir Haldor interrupted smoothly.

We nodded as we were ready to depart. Alvar, of course, was already one step ahead—he’d personally arranged extra fluffy cushions on the saddle like so kind of overprotective nursemaid. When I climbed up, he pulled into place in front of him, his arms sliding firmly around my waist as if I might escape (as if I had the energy to).

"Comfortable?" he murmured against my ear.

"...Yes."

I lifted my hand dramatically, waving at the people gathered. "Goodbye, everyone! Miss a lot while I’m gone. I’ll return with lots of money, lots of treasures, and—if fate doesn’t ruin my plan first—plenty of good news!"

Baron Sigurd actually smiled faintly. Thalion waved both arms like a lunatic, shouting sothing about bracelets of destiny. Eryndor muttered under his breath that I was more dramatic than a stage play.

And just like that, with Alvar steady behind and the snow stretching ahead, we left for the capital city.

***

[On the way to the Capital City—Later]

I crunched into the cookie Nick had handed in a pouch. Sweet, crumbly, with a hint of spice. Perfect travel food.

"Leif..." Alvar’s voice broke the quiet, low and steady as his arm adjusted around on the saddle.

I glanced up at him mid-bite. "What? You want so too?"

He leaned down instead, brushing a kiss against the top of my head, the kind of casual affection that made my stomach flip more than the cookie did. "No. I just have sothing to ask."

"Go on."

"Did you receive any letter from the capital?"

"Mhm." I chewed slowly, pretending to consider. "One from Father. And... one from Elowen."

The reins in his hands jerked just slightly, the horse tossing its head in protest. His jaw tightened. "And... what did she write?"

I kept my eyes on the road ahead, tone deliberately casual. "Oh, you know. The usual. She asked how I was... and whether I’d forgotten the promise I made to her."

Alvar’s voice dropped. "About the Oath?"

"Of course. What other promise could it be?" I muttered, finishing the cookie in one bite. Then I smirked. "But honestly? That letter was dripping with so much sugar I got cavities just reading it. So I burned it."

"Cavities?" Then his lips twitched—half amusent, half relief. "Anyway, very good, Leif. You must rember, you cannot take that Oath now."

I turned to squint at him. "Huh? And why not?"

He t my gaze, calm but firm, his knuckles whitening slightly on the reins. "Because we are soon to be married. I won’t have anyone—anything—binding you but ."

"...Oh. Right. That makes sense." I waved it off. "Not like I was interested anyway. So promises are made to be broken. Useless ones, especially."

He smiled, slow and warm, like I’d said exactly what he wanted to hear. "Yes. So promises should be broken." He leaned closer, voice dropping to a warning growl. "But hear , Leif—if you ever et her again, don’t do it alone. If she cos near, I will be there."

I tilted my head at him, frowning. He sounded... different. Not jealous this ti—sothing sharper, almost fearful.

"Alvar... did sothing happen?"

His answer ca quick. Too quick. "No. I just don’t like you eting any won or n alone. Ever."

I stared. He was serious. Dead serious.

Then I sighed, sinking back against his chest. "Oh. Right. Forgot for a mont. My boyfriend is a giant, possessive monster."

He chuckled into my hair, arms tightening around . "Your giant, possessive monster."

"Sa... sa..." I mumbled, already crumbling another cookie between my fingers.

The horse snorted. And just like that—our journey to the capital rolled on.