Wrong Script, Right Love Chapter 74: The Rainbow Show Begins

[Leif’s POV—Rainbow Fashion Show, Thorenvald Garden—Evening]

CRACKLE!!!

BOOM!!!

Spotlights burst alive. Music soared. Crystals shimred overhead like rainbows caught mid-fall.

And sowhere beneath all that glitter and chaos—my heart was pounding louder than the bass.

Because today... was the day. The Rainbow Fashion Show had finally arrived.

The estate grounds had transford into a sparkling dreamscape. Silken banners rippled in the evening breeze, nobles poured out of jewel-studded carriages, and high society buzzed like a hive full of gossip-hungry bees. The air humd with curiosity, greed, and anticipation.

I peeked through the window, watching the parade of overdressed aristocrats.

"My lord... you should get ready too. Guests have started arriving," Nick bowed and said.

I tore my eyes from the window and turned to him. "Nick, did you check on the models?"

He nodded briskly. "Yes, my lord. They’re ready. The maids are doing the finishing touches on makeup. But..." He hesitated, lowering his voice. "They’re nervous. Terrified, actually. It’s their first ti walking before so many nobles."

"Of course they’re nervous," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "Nobles can be scarier than dragons when they judge."

Zephyy glared, tail flicking indignantly. "Master, do not compare those greedy humans to ," he huffed telepathically.

. . . . . .

I chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, my bad. I forgot I have a dragon disguised as an adorable furball."

He fwipped his head away dramatically, ears twitching as he turned to stare out the window. "Anyway, Master... do you truly think your jewelry will beco famous after this?"

I glanced sideways at him, smirking. ’Of course. Nobles live to flaunt their wealth, Zephyy. If this show succeeds, they’ll be clawing at each other just to wear my designs first.’

Zephyy blinked slowly, his tail curling around his paws. ’...I see. Humans are strange.’

I grinned. "Strange? No. Brilliantly greedy."

But then—

CLATTER—CLACK—GLIMR!

A carriage rolled into view beyond the window. Not just any carriage. Polished obsidian, gold trim, and the unmistakable crest of a golden dragon on the door.

My brain short-circuited.

"...What. The. Actual. Fuck?" I hissed, looking out of the window. "Why is there an Imperial carriage at my show?"

Nick blinked, looking genuinely confused. "Didn’t you... invite them, my lord?"

"Yes, but that was a formality!" I said, nearly strangling the air itself. "No one expects the Emperor to show up at so glitter parade in my garden!"

Zephyy’s tail flicked. ’Hm. Maybe they’re here to support the arts.’

I muttered, pacing. "Gods, I thought he’d ignore the letter like every other sane ruler."

Nick smiled—far too calmly for my liking. "Well, my lord, you should really get ready now."

I sighed, "You’re right, it’s ti to start the event."

***

[Lief’s Chamber—Later]

"...Wow, my lord," Nick breathed, eyes wide in genuine awe. "You look like a saint descended straight from the heavens."

I turned toward the mirror—and honestly?

Damn.

Off-white suit. White cloak flowing like a divine cape. Hair sleek, perfectly combed. The Trivium Core Stone brooch glittered at my chest, sleeve cuffs catching the light.

Holy hell. I was radiant.

If vanity were a sin, I would be excommunicated.

"Ha!" I grinned at my reflection. "Even the gods are weeping right now. God himself would cover his face in sha!"

Nick chuckled under his breath, adjusting my cloak. "Indeed, my lord. I believe even angels would resign on the spot."

I turned dramatically and gave him a thumbs-up. "Nick... you’re the best stylist-slash-life-saver ever."

He puffed up a little, clearly proud of himself. "Thank you, my lord. Though, I must say..." he paused, eyes glinting mischievously, "... I’m quite certain Lord Alvar will drop his heart at your feet tonight."

I barked a laugh. "Oh, please! He already worships ."

Nick grinned. "Then shall we go, Saint Leif of Solre?"

I smirked, flipping my cloak with dramatic flair. "Let’s. Ti to bless the empire with my existence."

The mont I stepped out, a blur of pastel ribbons and curls ca racing toward .

"Waaahhh! Brother, you’re so handso!" Alina squealed, skidding to a stop right in front of .

I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. Kneeling down to her height, I took her tiny hand and pressed a kiss to it like the gentleman I pretend to be. "And you, my dear sister," I said solemnly, "look like a fairy who just escaped the heavens to outshine ."

She giggled, eyes sparkling. "Brother, you always say such pretty things!"

"Because you always deserve them," I replied with a wink.

Then she tugged at my sleeve, whispering conspiratorially, "Brother, co quickly! There’s soone waiting for you downstairs."

I blinked. "Soone?"

She nodded, lips twitching into a suspiciously mischievous grin. "Mhm! Soone very handso."

Ah. Had to be Alvar. Who else could make people this excited?

I sighed, straightening up and offering her my hand. "Alright, little fairy, let’s go see who dares outshine your brother."

Alina giggled again, scooping Zephyy off my shoulder and cradling him in her arms as we descended the grand staircase together.

I adjusted my cloak, ready to et Alvar.

***

[Downstairs—Later]

... That’s what I thought.

I stood there frozen, dumbfounded, and possibly having an early-life crisis. Because standing in the middle of my grand foyer wasn’t my tall, brooding, dangerously kissable fiancé.

It was the Crown Prince.

Crown Prince Arden. In all his golden, polished, too-perfect glory. He spotted imdiately and smiled that calm, perfect, emperor-in-training smile.

"Ah, Leif. I was waiting for you."

I blinked. "Why?"

. . .

. . .

He chuckled softly, with that too-gracious tone nobles use when they’re either flirting or plotting your downfall. "I wanted to personally congratulate you. And, of course, I’m honored to attend the first-ever Rainbow Fashion Show. You’ve certainly made quite a na for yourself."

I squinted at him.

Hmm...sothing is damn fishy.

"Aha..." I snapped my fingers dramatically. "Now I get it. You’re after my Trivium Core Stone jewelry, aren’t you? Planning to claim imperial ’interest’? Or maybe slap your royal seal on it and call it ’cultural property’?"

He blinked.

And then chuckled, saying, "No, Leif. I truly ca here just to see you."

"Oh, sure," I drawled, smirking and nudging at his arms. "C’mon, Your Highness—drop the polite act. Bring out your greedy imperial side. I promise I won’t mind."

Arden’s gaze flicked down to where my hand was still casually resting against his arm. I froze. "Oh—uh, sorry. I went too... friendly."

He smiled—warmly, genuinely this ti. "It’s fine. I prefer casual. It’s... refreshing to see soone treat as a person rather than a crown."

I blinked, dumbfounded.

Wait. Did the Crown Prince just flirt? Or... self-reflect? Or both? This man was weird. Weird in a smooth marble statue that suddenly learned emotions kind of way.

Anyway, no ti to decode royal enigmas—I had a show to run.

I straightened my cloak and took Alina’s hand. "Well then, Your Highness, we should head to the garden. The guests must be waiting."

Arden nodded, offering a polite nod that was entirely too charming for my sanity. "Of course."

***

[Garden—Later]

CHATTER!!!

The garden was alive with color, laughter, and the kind of polite chaos only nobles could create. Silk gowns swished, jewels glimred under enchanted lanterns, and gossip sparkled in the air, thicker than perfu.

The ramp stretched across the lawn like a silver river, spotlights humming with magic. Musicians played a graceful waltz in the background, and servers floated by with trays of crystal glasses.

The Rainbow Fashion Show was in full swing.

I greeted the nobles one by one with a smile that could win diplomacy awards. "Welco, Duke. Lady Everen. Lord-with-too-many-buttons."

Everything looked perfect—except for one tiny, glaring problem.

Where the hell was Alvar?

My lovely boyfriend-slash-missing-person was nowhere in sight.

And then—

"Leif!"

I turned and Standing there was Alvar’s mother, looking radiant and sweet as ever—next to my parents.

There stood Alvar’s mother. Beside my parents.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

My future mother-in-law and my biological mother, together. This was either a sign of peace or the beginning of the apocalypse.

I plastered on a polite smile and bowed. "Good evening, Mother. You look radiant as ever."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught my mother’s expression. The glint in her eyes could probably lt steel.

"Oh, don’t mind , Leif," she said sweetly, too sweetly. "I’m just so happy you’ll have such a gentle mother-in-law."

Then, with the voice of a saint and the soul of a dragon, she added,

"...But do not call anyone Mom."

I froze mid-breath. "Ah... understood."

. . .

Yeah. Sa terrifying woman, just more civilized in public.

Alvar’s mother, thankfully, chuckled and stepped in to ease the tension. She wore the necklace I had gifted her—a Trivium Core Stone pendant that shimred in soft hues. Her fingers brushed it fondly.

"Leif, thank you again for this beautiful piece," she said kindly. "It’s exquisite."

I smiled, relief washing over . "I’m glad you like it, Mother. It suits you perfectly. Though..." I glanced around the crowd. "Where’s Alvar? I haven’t seen him yet."

She blinked, a touch of confusion creasing her brow. "Oh? He hasn’t t you yet? That’s strange... he left ho before noon, dear."

I frowned. "...Before noon?"

I blinked, my mind suddenly spinning.

If he left before noon... and he’s not here now... then where the hell is he?