[Leif’s POV — Morning—Leif’s Chamber]

The morning crept in, crimson rays stretching through the curtains, scattering across the floor. Somewhere outside, My crimson babies howled like hungry little wolves, and the birds—clearly angry about the cold—chirped in protest.

And me? I was a koala. A very stubborn, clingy koala.

Wrapped around Alvar like the world would end if I let go, my arms locked across his chest, my cheek pressed to his shoulder, and—most importantly—my leg was draped across his stomach in ultimate defense. If he tried moving, he’d have to drag me along.

Alvar lay flat, staring at the ceiling like a man questioning all his life choices. His voice was low, resigned, and a little dumbfounded.

"Leif... I’ll be late."

In answer, I shifted closer, tightening my hold like a python on its prey. "Good. Be late. Better yet, don’t go at all."

A faint sigh escaped him. "Darling, I must."

"No, you mustn’t," I mumbled against his chest. Then, as if to prove my point, I slapped my leg more firmly over his stomach. "See? Captured. Imprisoned. You can’t escape."

For the first time that morning, I caught the twitch of his lips. "You’re unbelievable."

"And you’re cruel," I shot back, glaring up at him with my best wounded-puppy eyes. "You want to abandon me for boring politics and grim-faced nobles. Don’t you love me anymore?"

That finally dragged his gaze from the ceiling down to me. He stared, eyes sharp and piercing—but softening the moment they landed on my pout. "You know very well that if I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be here right now, letting you crush my ribs with your limbs."

I gasped dramatically, tightening even more. "So you admit it! You’re leaving me to suffer alone while you run off to the city, surrounded by temptations and scandalous noblewomen!"

Alvar gave me that look. The one that said I was being ridiculous, but he was far too in love to stop me. "Scandalous noblewomen?" His brow arched. "Do you really think anyone in their right mind would dare come near me when I carry your bite marks all over my neck?"

My cheeks went hot. "T-that’s... different! I was marking my territory."

"And very effective it was," he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips.

I groaned, burying my face in his chest again. "Then why do you have to leave? Just stay here. Stay in bed. Stay with me. Look—" I poked his side stubbornly, "—you fit perfectly as my pillow. A strong, overprotective pillow. Can politics do that? Hm?"

His chest rumbled with a laugh, low and warm. One of his hands slid up to cradle the back of my head, his thumb stroking soothing circles. "Leif... if I could, I’d stay here forever. But I have to go. Just for a short time."

"Short time," I repeated, sulking. "Do you know how long that is in time? Eternity."

Alvar chuckled again, then tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. His gaze was fierce, full of something that always made my heart stumble. "Darling, you are my eternity. Don’t you ever doubt that."

I froze, my pout faltering, replaced by a rush of warmth that made my chest ache.

My breath hitched.

Yes... he loves me. I know he does. I can feel it in the way he looks at me, in the way he holds me like I’m the only thing he can’t afford to lose.

But knowing doesn’t change the cruel truth—he’s the male lead of this cursed story. And somewhere in that glittering capital waits the female lead , the darling of the gods, the one the author will shower with roses and rainbows the moment they meet. The perfect heroine, who was destined to outshine me from the very start.

What am I compared to her? Just the so-called second male lead , whose only purpose is to love and lose. To suffer quietly in the shadows, to let my love melt under the glow of her halo.

I clutched him tighter, nails digging into his shirt as though I could pin him to me forever. He’s my first love. My first everything. And yet... I feel like I’m already losing him—to a script I never agreed to play in.

Alvar’s arms slid firmly around me, pulling me even closer. His lips brushed my temple as he whispered, "Leif... I promise I will be back. And sooner than you think, we’ll meet again in the capital city."

I stiffened, pulling back just enough to look at him. His gaze was calm, sincere, and utterly devoted. Then he kissed the tip of my nose, a fleeting, tender touch, before wrapping me up again as though he could hide me from the world.

"The Saint’s Selection Ceremony is coming soon," he reminded softly. "As a noble, you must be there. Don’t forget that."

Right. Of course. As Count Viktor’s son, I’d have no choice. But the cruel part? That’s also when Alvar and Elowen will begin their oh-so-beautiful journey together. When fate starts weaving their threads tighter, leaving me behind.

Can I really fight against it? Can I really tear apart the story just to keep him for myself? Or will I simply stand there, smiling like an idiot, while the heroine’s light swallows him whole?

I forced out a laugh, though my chest ached like someone was squeezing it from the inside. "So that’s how it is, huh? While you’re busy meeting destiny, I’ll just... get ready for my first heartbreak."

Alvar frowned instantly, his expression tightening. "Leif—"

I pulled away before he could say more, sliding out of the bed. My legs felt heavy and unsteady, but I plastered on the best smile I could manage.

"I’m sorry... for clutching you like some desperate idiot," I said quietly. "You should get ready. You’ll really be late if I keep you here."

I turned toward the window, trying not to let the sting in my eyes show.

Behind me, silence. Heavy. Confused. Alvar didn’t move, didn’t even breathe for a moment. And when I finally glanced back, his gaze was fixed on me—confused, worried, searching—like he couldn’t quite understand why I was pushing him away when my heart was clearly screaming for him to stay.

***

[Outside the Thorenvald Estate—Later]

"Waaaahhhhhhhhhh! My precious babies!"

Sir Haldor collapsed to the ground, buried under a mountain of crimson fur. Dozens of my wolves climbed over him, licking his face and pawing at his chest, their tails wagging so hard they nearly knocked him over. His tears streamed freely as he clutched at them like a man on his deathbed.

"I’ll miss you all! Waaaahhhh!" he wailed.

The rest of us could only stare in stunned silence.

"...So the legendary Captain Ragulfsson is actually just... a baby?" Princess Sirella whispered, blinking in disbelief.

"No," the Crown Prince deadpanned, his arms crossed. "He just loves them more than Leif."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "Unfortunately, he’s not wrong."

At that moment, Haldor snapped his head toward me, his eyes swollen and wet like some oversized puppy. "Lord Leif! Please... please take care of my brothers and sisters for me!"

I smiled awkwardly. "...Yeah. Sure. Of course."

Sir Ronald shook his head, muttering under his breath, "I can’t believe this man was the one who trained me."

I exhaled a long, suffering sigh.

Sirella then turned her gaze on me, her expression more serious. "So... will you still be supporting Elowen?"

I looked her dead in the eye. "I thought you already had your answer during the days you stayed here."

Her brows furrowed, confusion flickering.

I smirked faintly. "But I guess you’re not that quick to catch on."

Her expression went flat. "So that means you’re not."

"I’ll let you believe what you want."

The Crown Prince stepped forward, more composed than his sister. "Thank you for taking care of us, Leif. We’ll see you again at the capital."

"Oh...I don’t think I was coming."

Alvar, who had just stepped into the courtyard, flinched like I’d struck him. "Leif... you know as Count Viktor’s son you must attend. It’s a royal event. You can’t simply skip it."

"Yes, but I also have a territory to take care of. I can’t just abandon my people. And if I recall correctly, there’s a clause where a lord may skip such events in case of emergencies."

The siblings exchanged a glance, then Sirella sighed. "You’re right... but still. I hope you do come."

I nodded. "I’ll try."

When I glanced at Alvar, his brow was furrowed, his eyes locked on me like he was trying to read the truth behind my words. Confusion, frustration, and maybe—just maybe—a little fear.

"The carriage is ready, Your Highness," one of the imperial knights announced.

The two siblings climbed inside, the door shutting behind them. Alvar lingered, his gaze never leaving me. "Leif... Are you alright?"

I forced a small smile, light but steady. "Yes. Just... come back sooner."

His jaw tightened, but he nodded. And just like that, he climbed into the carriage with them.

The horses stirred, hooves clattering against the stone path. The carriage rolled forward, its wheels carrying Alvar farther and farther until the dust swallowed him whole.

And I was left standing in the quiet, the chill seeping into my bones. Because deep down, I knew—there was no guarantee he’d ever come back to me.

No matter how tightly I clung, how stubbornly I loved... the story had already been written. And in that story, heroes always leave.

And second leads? We’re always left behind.