Wrong Script, Right Love Chapter 90: Before He Meets Him

[Leif’s POV—Warehouse—Evening]

I stepped into the warm, cluttered glow of the warehouse. The faint scent of polished wood and enchanted tals wrapped around like a cozy blanket.

"Thalion..." I called.

He looked up from the Trivium Core stone he was tinkering with, eyes lighting up. "Oh... Leif," he said with a sly smirk, hands resting on his hips. "So... you finally got ti to grace with your presence."

I gave a mock bow, letting my grin stretch wide. "Well... Captain Roland was far too determined to annex a village, so I had to... encourage him. You know, morale-boosting and all that."

Thalion chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah, yes. He was too determined."

I laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Anyway... I had to co see you because—honestly—thanks to your designs, our ornants outshine every other empire’s trinkets. You’ve basically set the standard for... well... everything shiny and fabulous."

His nose tilted upward, ears twitching in pride. "Well... of course. I am the best craft elf in my village. Genius is just in my blood."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Modesty clearly isn’t."

He poured tea into two delicate cups, steam curling like smoke from a dragon’s nostrils. "So... for the best teamwork?" he said, lifting his cup with a flourish.

I squinted at the tea suspiciously, then smirked. "Hmm... we could toast with wine instead. Tea is for... re mortals."

Thalion blinked. His eyes flicked past my cup... and then widened as they landed on my stomach. "And... uh... I was wondering... why do you have a belly like... so pregnant lady?"

. . .

. . .

I froze mid-step, blinking like I’d just been hit by a misfired magic spell. "Wow... I am not offended at all," I said, my voice dripping with all the sarcasm I could muster.

He chuckled, clearly delighted with himself.

I leaned forward, eyes glinting dangerously. "Still... Alvar doesn’t mind. He loves so much, belly and all."

Thalion let out a low whistle, grinning. "Ah, that explains it. True love sees no... soft curves. Or maybe he just likes you thick."

I nearly choked on my tea. "Thick? That’s your diplomatic way of saying I’m a little... fluffy?"

He smirked, raising a finger in mock wisdom. "Fluffy? No... no. Regally padded. It’s commanding presence, Leif. Makes you look... distinguished."

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling out. "Distinguished, huh? I’ll take that. Alvar would be proud."

He leaned back, swirling his tea like a connoisseur. "And I hope you keep paying us more and more so we can craft even more of your empire’s future treasures."

I clinked my cup against his, grinning devilishly. "I hope you create the best of the best designs in the future—if only so I can brag about them to everyone."

He snorted. "Sure, sure."

I raised my cup in mock solemnity. "Then consider it a strategic investnt."

Thalion clinked his cup with a flourish. "May your territory beco an empire—grow—never falter!"

I smiled, swirling my drink thoughtfully. If that happens... either I’ll have to find a king worthy of —or...make Alvar the king myself.

***

[Holy Temple—The Next Day—Alvar’s POV]

I stood just outside the grand doors of the holy temple, the morning light glinting off the gilded spires. The scent of incense curled around like a whisper of secrets.

"Greetings, Grand Duke," Priest Caldric said as he stepped toward , robes brushing the marble floor.

I inclined my head. "Good to see you, Priest Caldric."

A faint, knowing smile tugged at his lips. "And... congratulations on your wedding. May you and Lord Leif have a bright future... and may your union triumph over every shadow that dares threaten your realm."

His words sounded warm, but his eyes... they were calculating, sharp, as if weighing not just but the world itself.

I studied him for a long mont, then asked carefully, "So... you knew Elowen’s power isn’t truly hers?"

He smiled faintly. "This is... not the right place to speak of such matters, Grand Duke. Please, follow ."

I nodded, my mind racing as I fell into step behind him. The temple’s corridors seed unusually silent, the flicker of candlelight casting dancing shadows along the stone walls. As he walked, I watched him closely. His expression was calm, almost serene—but the faint glint in his eyes hinted at a truth carefully hidden.

He’s already hinted that Elowen’s power isn’t truly hers...If he knows that, then he might also know who—or what—locked Leif’s true power.

***

[Priest Caldric Office—Monts Later]

THUD!

The door slamd shut behind , the sound reverberating like a warning.

Priest Caldric moved toward the towering bookshelves with deliberate calm, his robes whispering like old secrets against the marble floor. His hand hovered briefly over the spines before selecting a thick, leather-bound to. He set it on the desk with a heavy thump that echoed through the quiet chamber.

"Do you know," he began, his voice steady yet coldly amused, "who is the most dangerous species God has ever created?"

I blinked. "Beasts?"

"No."

"Devils, then?"

He shook his head, the faintest trace of a smile curling at his lips. "No. It’s humans."

My brows furrowed. "Humans?"

Caldric’s gaze lifted from the book to , and for a fleeting mont, the candlelight caught the sharp glint in his eyes. "Humans are far more dangerous than any devil," he said softly, "and yet... more fragile, more tender than even the gods themselves."

He paused, then added, almost wistfully, "And Elowen..."

The way he spoke her na made my spine stiffen.

"Elowen," he continued, "is one whose desires and obsessions have crossed boundaries she no longer sees. It is that—her longing—that has made her weak... and the very reason she’s being controlled."

My eyes widened. "You’re saying Elowen is being controlled?"

He gave a knowing look. "You’ve caught the scent, Grand Duke. I am only permitted to reveal that much."

He slid the to across the desk toward . "Perhaps this will help you uncover the rest."

I glanced down at the book. Its cover was a deep, worn brown—its surface cracked, its weight almost suffocating. A strange unease crawled up my spine.

Caldric knew sothing. I could feel it. Yet there was restraint in his eyes—as if he wanted to speak but was bound by sothing far greater.

I sighed. "Very well, I won’t force you. But you must already know... the Blue Dragon has awakened."

He smiled, slow and unreadable. "Of course."

"And you must also know—"

He interrupted, his tone eerily calm. "—that he is currently with Lord Leif."

. . .

I froze. "...So, you know."

His smile didn’t fade.

"Then that ans," I said carefully, "Leif is a High Saint, isn’t he?"

Caldric’s eyes softened with sothing almost like pity. "Lord Leif," he said, "is no saint, Grand Duke."

My brows knitted. "What?"

"Lord Leif possesses a divine energy," the priest murmured, "so vast that even I cannot comprehend its depths. He is not a saint. Not even a High Saint."

My pulse quickened. "Then... what is he?"

Caldric only smiled. A quiet, chilling smile that held both reverence and fear.

"Read the book, Grand Duke. That is all I can offer you. And..." His eyes t mine, sharp and deliberate. "Find a way to remain by his side. Your presence is needed where Lord Leif is—before he ets him."

"’Him?’ Who—"

But I stopped. Because the priest’s faint smile told everything.

He couldn’t say more. Or perhaps, he dared not.

***

[Corridor Outside Priest Caldric’s Office—Later]

The heavy doors groaned shut behind , sealing in the scent of old parchnt and incense. My mind still reeled from Caldric’s words—before he ets him.

The corridor was silent, save for the distant toll of the cathedral bells. Then—

"MY LORD!"

A blur of motion burst into view. Sir Haldor galloped down the stone path, reins snapping, his horse kicking up a storm of dust and frost. He dismounted before the beast had even stopped, stumbling forward, breath ragged.

"My lord—" he gasped.

I frowned. "What happened?"

He bent over, panting, voice trembling with barely contained panic. "My lord... the Second Prince has vanished!"

My steps halted. "What do you an—vanished?"

"Just an hour ago, word ca from the Imperial Palace," Haldor said, words tumbling out fast. "The Second Prince left his chambers without a guard. He... he took a horse and rode off on his own."

A chill slid down my spine. If he’d shut himself in his room for days only to suddenly ride away—then whatever he planned wasn’t ordinary.

"Seal every border imdiately," I ordered, my voice sharper than the winter air. "Track him down. Find where he’s gone."

Haldor hesitated.

I turned on him. "You know where he went, don’t you?"

He swallowed, eyes darting. "To... Frojnholm, my lord."

The na hit like a strike of thunder.

"...What?"

His gaze t mine, dread written across his face.

"To Frojnholm."

The wind howled through the corridor, carrying the na like an on. And for the first ti that day, I felt the unmistakable taste of fear.