[Leif’s POV—ThorenVald Estate—Later]

The silence didn’t fade. It stayed—heavy, alive, clinging to my skin like smoke. The echo of his footsteps was gone, but somehow, I still heard them.

Down the stairs. Across the marble. Through me. He didn’t slam the door. He didn’t shout. He just left—and that was worse.

Because anger burns out. But hurt... hurt lingers.

I stood there too long. Long enough for the air to grow cold. Long enough to feel the warmth he left behind fade into the stone, like even the floor wanted to forget us.

And —I knew I was the one at fault here.

I was the one who looked away. The one who stayed silent when truth begged to be spoken.

But how do I tell him? How do I tell Alvar that the man he loves is not from this world?

That the real Leif ThorenVald—the one born in this world, the one who gave power to elowen, the one who was his —might still be out there somewhere?

That I’m just a borrowed name, a misplaced soul wearing another man’s skin?

"I can’t," I whispered. "Not yet."

Because after meeting him that day—the one who looked like me but wasn’t —I realized something terrifying.

He’s still out there. Or... at least, a part of him is.

So, no—I can’t tell Alvar anything. Not until I know. Not until I find the truth about him —the real Leif ThorenVald.

And if he’s alive... Then what am I?

The thought twisted sharp in my chest, but I forced a breath through it, clenching my fists. No matter what I find—no matter how wrong, how cruel, how impossible the truth turns out to be—

I’m not letting my life be strangled by it. Because whatever I am—ghost, vessel, echo, mistake—I’m still the one who loves Alvar.

And I’ll prove it.

No matter what truth this cursed world tries to throw at me.

...

"Did you two fight?"

The voice came out of nowhere.

I jumped, nearly tripping over my own boots. "GODS—!"

When I turned, I nearly smacked him in the face with reflex. "Caelum!?"

The Second Prince blinked innocently, as if he hadn’t just shaved five years off my lifespan. "What?"

"Make a noise next time, damn it!" I hissed, pressing a hand over my chest. "You don’t just materialize behind people like a haunted tea kettle!"

He tilted his head, unbothered. "I called your name twice. You just didn’t hear me."

"I was lost in thought!"

"I noticed."

I exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose. "What do you want?"

He blinked again, eyes wide with faux innocence that I didn’t buy for a second. "You looked upset. So I thought maybe you and Duke Alvar had a fight."

"That’s none of your business," I muttered, brushing past him.

But apparently, the prince didn’t believe in self-preservation.

"But it is ," he said matter-of-factly.

I stopped mid-step, narrowing my eyes. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged with the kind of calm only an oblivious person or an immortal being could manage. "You’re our king. Your business is our business."

I turned back slowly. "No... no, my business is my business, and your business—" I gestured vaguely in the air, "—should be finding a hobby that isn’t me."

He blinked. "...That sentence made no sense."

"Neither does my life lately, but here we are!"

Caelum just stared at me like I was a particularly chaotic puzzle he was determined to solve. "You know," he said softly, "you keep saying you’re fine, but you look like someone who’s about two minutes away from punching a wall and crying afterward."

I opened my mouth, paused, then muttered, "Shut up."

His lips twitched—not quite a smile, but close. "You’re deflecting."

"And you’re annoying."

"That’s called balance, my king."

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "Caelum, listen. I don’t care if I’m your so-called Seraph King, or your divine symbol, or your ancient whatever."

I straightened, exhaling through my nose. "When it comes to my personal life—especially involving him —no one interferes. Not even angels."

For once, he didn’t argue. He just studied me quietly, his expression softening.

"...You really love him, don’t you?" he said gently.

The words hit harder than I wanted them to. I didn’t answer. I just turned away, the silence between us saying more than anything I could’ve managed.

"I do," I said finally, under my breath. "That’s why I can’t lose him."

And with that, I started down the corridor again, the echo of my boots the only sound between us.

Caelum called after me, "Where are you going?"

I didn’t look back. "To my office."

"What for?"

"THAT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, YOU BASTARD!!"

***

[Alvar’s POV — ThorenVald Estate —Training Field]

"...Was I too harsh?"

The words left my mouth before I even realized I was speaking.

The night answered me with nothing but cold wind and the soft hiss of the torches.

I sighed and let my body fall back against the sand, the cool blades pressing against my palms. The field was silent now—no clang of swords, no shouts, no movement—just me and the stars scattered like distant witnesses above.

I stared up at them, trying to find some kind of meaning in the endless dark. All I found was the echo of his voice.

"I... don’t remember." "I said, I don’t remember."

It looped in my head until it stopped sounding like him.

Lies.Or maybe not.

That was the problem—I didn’t know which was worse. I dragged a hand down my face and groaned, the sound muffled by the night. "Damn it, Leif..."

Because when I looked into his eyes earlier, it wasn’t guilt I saw. It was fear.

Not fear of me—I’d know that look anywhere—but fear of something else. Something I couldn’t see. And gods, I hated it. Because if he’s scared, then it means there’s something out there even I can’t protect him from.

I stared up at the moon, frowning. "What are you hiding, my love?"

The night gave no answer.

Only the soft crunch of boots across grass.

"My lord."

I turned my head. Sir Haldor stood a few steps away, the torchlight catching the edges of his armor. His expression was neutral, but his eyes held the kind of concern he never bothered hiding from me.

"Haldor," I greeted, forcing my voice to sound steadier than I felt. "What is it?"

"I’ve sent the message to Priest Caldric, as you ordered," he said, stopping at my side. "He should arrive within the next two days."

"Good." I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "Thank you, Haldor."

He nodded, hesitated, then added quietly, "You look... troubled, my lord."

I huffed a short, humorless laugh. "Do I?"

His mouth twitched. "I’ve known you since you were a boy trying to swing a sword twice your size. You can’t hide anything from me."

I couldn’t help but smirk faintly. "Right... I always forget you’re impossible to fool."

"Not impossible," he said softly. "Just observant. Especially when it concerns Lord Leif."

The smile died on my lips. "You noticed that, huh?"

"Everyone did," Haldor admitted, though his voice was careful. "You and he—there’s a rift. And you don’t seem like the type to start a war unless you’re bleeding inside."

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

He sighed, resting a gloved hand over the hilt of his sword. "If I may, my lord... I don’t think he meant to hurt you."

I let out a bitter laugh, sitting up slowly. "I know. That’s what makes it worse."

Haldor tilted his head slightly.

"He looked at me like..." I trailed off, searching for the right word. "Like I wasn’t supposed to exist in his world. Like he’d already lost me to something I couldn’t see."

The knight’s eyes softened. "Maybe he’s lost himself instead."

That thought made my chest tighten. My gaze lingered on him—sharp, thoughtful, uneasy—before I finally let out a long breath. "You think so?"

"I don’t know, my lord," Haldor said simply. "But I am sure... you can handle the rifts and find a solution, my lord."

And just like that, he turned and walked away—boots crunching lightly against the field, fading into the dark until there was nothing left but the whisper of the wind.

I stayed where I was, eyes still fixed on the stars that refused to look back.

"Is there anything else I should know about you, Leif?"