Wrong Script, Right Love Chapter 69: Clouds, Glitter, and Doom

[Outside the Silver Swan Theatre Company—Later—Leif’s POV]

I dragged my feet across the cobblestones, Alina’s small hand wrapped tightly around mine, Zephyy perched on my shoulder, his tiny claws digging in just enough to remind he was there.

"I never knew... Selecting good-looking people could be this exhausting," I muttered, voice rough from ntal fatigue.

’But you finally selected them, Master,’ Zephyy said, his voice tinged with smug satisfaction.

I nodded, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh. "Thank the stars Mother sent them the ssage in advance. The theater company owner picked the best faces already... all I had to do was finalize them."

I rubbed my temples. "It’s just training... I may not be a perfect ramp-walker myself, but I can at least guide them to shine in my fashion show without falling flat on their faces."

Alina tugged at my coat, her eyes wide with puppy-like insistence. "Brother... I want cotton candy!!"

I ruffled her hair, muttering, "Sure, let’s go."

Her face lit up like the sun had personally descended to bless her, and she squealed happily. "Yayyy!!"

I chuckled, crouching slightly to lift her into my arms. "To the sweet corner."

***

[Sweet Corner—Later]

Alina bounced in my arms like an excited little rabbit, her laughter chiming brighter than the bells on the sweet stand.

The old man behind the counter chuckled, his hands steady as he twirled the thin paper stick through a whirl of spinning sugar. The air slled like vanilla and sunshine.

"Uncle! More big! More big!" Alina demanded, pointing at the growing puff of pink with a seriousness that would put generals to sha.

The old man’s moustache twitched with amusent. "More big, huh? You’ll need two hands just to carry this cloud, little miss."

Alina gasped dramatically. "Don’t worry, I will finish in one go!!!"

I chuckled and she just giggled, hugging my neck tighter, her legs kicking in delight.

Zephyy, perched on my shoulder, let out a pitiful whine. "Master... I want blue clouds!"

"One blue cotton candy, too," I said.

The Old man nodded, saying, "Right away, my lord."

Then the old man handed the giant pink fluff to Alina, who gasped as if she’d been presented with a royal treasure. "Wahhhhhhh!!! So big!!!"

Her eyes sparkled like stars, and when she bit into it, half of the cotton candy disappeared in one go. "Brother, it’s soooo soft! Like clouds on my tongue!"

I smiled, brushing a speck of sugar from her cheek. "Then you, my dear, are officially a cloud-eater."

Both Zephyy and Alina were busy devouring their sugary "clouds," leaving trails of pink and blue sweetness on their fingers and—unfortunately—my coat. Their laughter filled the air as I glanced around the bustling street. For a mont, everything felt normal.

Warm. Peaceful.

We turned toward the carriage, ready to leave, when suddenly—

"LORD LEIF!!!"

The voice was so sugary sweet I almost got diabetes on the spot.

I froze. No, no, no... please tell that wasn’t—

I turned.And there she was.

Elowen.

The female lead of this godforsaken novel. The one whose male lead I apparently "stole."

Her bright pink hair shimred under the sunlight, her simple dress fluttering dramatically in the wind like it had its own budget for special effects. She looked like a walking shampoo comrcial powered by divine light—and honestly? I wanted to sue whoever was responsible for her brightness.

Even Alvar’s male lead aura wasn’t this blinding.And that’s saying sothing.

"Oh for fuck’s sake," I muttered under my breath. "Here cos glitter Barbie."

Before I could even decide whether to run or fake my death, she ran toward —hair flying, skirt twirling, background music practically playing in the distance.

And then—of course—she did it. She grabbed my hands. Both of them.

"Lord Leif!" she gasped, eyes sparkling like soone had dumped an entire jar of glitter into them. "Finally, you ca back!"

I blinked.Once.Twice.

What the actual—

"Master..." Zephyy tiny horrified voice ca. "Is this woman... trying to create a scandal?"

I looked around. And yep—people had stopped to stare.

There we were: one scandalously attractive nobleman (), one "fragile beauty" dramatically holding his hands (her), and an audience of gossip-hungry commoners watching like it was a live soap opera.

Perfect. Just perfect.

If soone rolled a red carpet right now, we could call this "Scandal: The Musical."

Then Zephyy’s voice echoed in my head, all serious and cryptic as usual."Master..."

"Hmm?"

Zephyy narrowed his little eyes at Elowen. "This woman... her holy power is strange."

I blinked. "What do you an?"

"Her holy power is shimring outside her body... not within."

"...Zephyy, I need you to speak in a language that doesn’t make my brain overheat."

He sighed dramatically—which is impressive for a winged fluffball the size of a cat. "I an," he said, "a person who possess true holy power... it lives inside them. It binds to their soul. But hers—hers feels like a cloak. Fake. Borrowed. It doesn’t belong to her."

My brow twitched.

Huh? Borrowed?

. . .

. . .

I sighed, rubbing my temple. "Zephyy, it doesn’t concern us. Let’s just get out of here before she creates an even bigger scandal—and before soone writes about it in tomorrow’s gossip column."

I plastered on my best nobleman smile—the one that hides panic and bad decisions—then gently tugged my hands free from Elowen’s grip.

"Sorry, Elowen," I said smoothly, stepping back and scooping Alina into my arms like a human shield. "My sister’s allergic to human sunlight—uh, I an—actual sunlight. So, we really must go."

Elowen blinked, confusion sparkling in her eyes like a broken chandelier. "Wait—Lord Leif—"

Too late.

I was already half-running, half-sprinting toward the carriage. "Driver! Go! Before the plot catches up!"

The door slamd shut behind us, and I leaned back in my seat, exhaling like a man who’d just dodged divine retribution.

Outside, Alina poked her half-eaten cotton candy out the window, waving sweetly. "Bye-bye, shiny lady!"

A tuft of pink sugar flew off and landed in Elowen’s perfect hair.

And that’s how... I made my grand, glorious escape from the female lead of this novel—leaving behind one glittery bombshell and an audience that just witnessed Season Two: Scandal of the Century.

***

[Thorenvald Estate—Later]

"IT WAS FUN!!!"

Alina bead the mont the carriage stopped, her laughter bouncing like sunlight off glass. She looked up at , eyes twinkling. "Brother, let’s play tag again with that shiny lady!"

anwhile, ?

I was still trying to recover from the glitter explosion that had just called Lord Leif like we were long-lost lovers reunited after three tragic lifetis.

Seriously... why did she run at like that? I never knew the female lead could be this clingy—and cringe. Anyway. Who cares? Not my circus. Not my sparkly saint.

I sighed, stepping out of the carriage. The grand doors of the Thorenvald estate lood ahead—majestic, intimidating, and currently radiating "parental confrontation" energy.

Butler Godfrey bowed deeply as we entered. "Lord Leif, the Count and Countess are waiting for you in the dining hall for lunch."

I froze mid-step.

Ah. So it’s that ti.The "family lunch of emotional doom."

I exhaled slowly.

Alright, Leif. You’ve survived kidnapping, Tad the male lead of the novel, and one holy glitter bomb. You can survive this. You’re strong. You’re brave. You—

...are absolutely terrified.

"Brother?" Alina tugged at my sleeve, her soft eyes searching my face. "Are you sad again?"

I blinked, forcing a smile. "Of course not, Alina."

She tilted her head. "Then... are Mama and Papa going to scold you?"

I hesitated, my throat tightening. "That... maybe."

Without another word, she threw her tiny arms around . "Don’t worry, Brother," she declared with the courage of a knight in pigtails. "I will fight for you. I will protect you from their anger!"

. . .

. . .

A laugh escaped before I could stop it. "Hah... there’s my little dumpling. I suppose I don’t have to be scared if my brave sister’s on my side."

She nodded firmly, puffing her cheeks with pride. "Yes!"

I smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. If only courage were contagious. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders and stepped toward the dining hall doors.

Whatever awaited beyond them—judgnt, disappointnt—I’d face it.