[Leif’s POV—Office—Weeks Later]

Knock! Knock!

"Come in," I groaned, not looking up from the mountain of papers before me.

Nick stepped in carefully, balancing a cup of steaming tea. "My lord... it’s time to take a break."

I waved a dismissive hand. "Just put it here, Nick. I’ll finish this letter first, then I promise I’ll take a break."

He placed the tea on the edge of my desk and peeked at the letter I was scribbling on. "My lord... who are you writing to?"

I held up the letter dramatically, letting the inked words flutter in the candlelight. "All the neighboring empires’ royal families."

Nick blinked. "Neighboring empires, my lord? Why them?"

"To maintain a good relationship, Nick," I said, stamping the letter with my seal.

Nick frowned. "But... why would we need to maintain good relations? We’re independent now, aren’t we?"

I leaned back in my chair, tapping my fingers against the desk like a general preparing for battle. "It’s called geopolitics, dear Nick. Come, let me explain."

I unfurled a large map of the Edrion Empire, tracing the borders with my finger. "Previously, our territory was part of the Edrion Empire. See this end piece here? That was us. Connected, protected, part of something bigger."

Nick nodded slowly, his brow furrowed as he followed my explanation.

"But now," I continued, circling our independent territory, "we are separate. Alone. Completely exposed. If trouble comes, we will be the first ones hit. And no empire will stand with us, because..."

Nick’s eyes widened as he pieced it together. "...Because we’re independent. No emperor can intervene, right?"

I ruffled his hair affectionately. "Exactly. Smart boy."

He grinned, proud of himself, and I continued. "So to be safe in the future, we need allies. Strong, reliable neighbors who see the benefits of standing with us. When danger comes, they’ll think twice before stepping on our land. This way we get money and friendship. It’s a win-win."

Nick nodded, eyes wide, impressed. "So... you’re basically turning medicine and greenhouses into... diplomatic weapons?"

I smiled. "Exactly. But remember, Nick—this is more than just a game of friendship. Every letter, every gift, every compliment... it’s a chess move. One wrong step, one careless alliance, and suddenly our little paradise could be the first target in a war no one would blink at."

Nick gulped, looking at me like I’d just revealed some magical doomsday plan. "W...we’d be the first ones attacked?"

I nodded, smiling warmly to ease him. "Smart boy. Yes... but that’s why I’m doing this now, before anyone even thinks of attacking. Prepare the minds of our neighbors to see benefits in standing with us. Make them think twice."

Nick blinked, admiration and concern battling on his face. "Lord leif... you really think of everything."

I shrugged casually, but my eyes flicked to the window, to the distant horizon. "I have to. Being smart isn’t just about winning today... it’s about surviving tomorrow."

Nick’s eyes suddenly sparkled like he’d just discovered treasure. "You... you’re really the saint of Frojnholm, my lord."

I let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of my neck. "Saint? Me? Developing a territory into a proper city isn’t exactly saintly work, Nick. More like... bleeding, sleepless, paper-drowning work."

Nick grinned, undeterred. "Still, you do it for everyone here. That’s saint-level in my book."

I waved him off, trying to change the topic before he declared me god. "Enough flattery, Nick. What about the event? Is everything... ready?"

He nodded eagerly, practically bouncing in place. "Yes, my lord! Tomorrow, the whole of Frojnholm will shine! Streets decorated, banners flying, music... everyone’s excited. It’s going to be magnificent!"

I smirked, watching him sparkle with happiness. His excitement was infectious. And me? Ha! It had been ages since I wandered the streets, sampling junk food without someone scolding me for sticky fingers.

A little mischievous grin tugged at my lips. "Hehehe... tomorrow’s going to be fun. Maybe I’ll sneak in a few extra dumplings, some fried pies... who knows, maybe even a whole roasted chicken if I’m feeling wild."

Nick laughed, shaking his head. "Your stomach is as ambitious as your brain, my lord."

I chuckled, leaning back in my chair, already imagining the chaos of tomorrow.

***

[Thorenvald Estate—The Next Day—Afternoon]

Crackle! Boom!

Fireworks erupted in the distance, painting the sky with brilliant colors. Finally—the day of celebration had arrived.

The entire village shimmered with decorations; banners fluttered in the wind, lanterns swayed, and music spilled through the streets. Excitement and laughter mingled, filling the territory with a sense of pure joy.

I leaned against the window frame, squinting at the gathering crowd below. "Looks like they are too excited," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.

"Did you check the borders, Sir Ronald?" I asked, turning away from the spectacle.

Sir Ronald straightened, nodding with pride. "Yes, my lord. Our knights, along with the Crimson Packs, are stationed along the borders. No one will sneak in unnoticed."

I gave a slow nod, rubbing my chin. "Good... soon, we’ll need proper fortifications too. The territory isn’t going to defend itself forever."

Then I sighed, the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders. "But... we’ll need more funds for that."

I glanced around the room at the piles of ledgers, the half-finished greenhouse building, and the shelves of supplies I’d invested in—supplies for the elves making jewelry and medicines, all in the hope that money would eventually flow in like a river. My plans were big, ambitious... but every big plan came with consequences.

And then, my mind wandered to someone I couldn’t stop thinking about. Alvar. I missed him more than I’d admit aloud. My fingers brushed the unopened letter on my desk from him.

"You can leave sir Ronald... I shall be there in no time," I said.

He bowed and walked out of the office, saying, "Yes, my lord."

I watched Sir Ronald leave, the soft click of the door echoing in the quiet office. I leaned back in my chair, trying to focus on the day ahead, but my thoughts kept drifting.

Then, my gaze fell on the neat envelope resting on my desk. The handwriting was familiar—slender, elegant, and perfectly controlled—and, of course, it smelled like him . A faint blush crept over my cheeks.

I tore it open and began reading, eyes skimming over the flowing script... until they widened . My hands trembled so violently that I shook the letter, hoping— praying —the words would rearrange themselves into something less shocking.

No such luck. The ink was stubborn.

And there it was. Bold. Unforgiving. Almost like it was yelling at me:

"I have met the Emperor today and told him to change the law... to approve same-sex marriage."

I froze. Blinked. Stared. Blinked again.

"What?! WHAT?!" I yelled, waving the letter around like it was about to bite me. "No... no... noooooo! This cannot be real! The ink is plotting against me! It’s conspiring!"

I shook it harder, whimpering, "Change... change... words... change... OH GOD, IT WON’T CHANGE!"

My crimson babies hissed in disapproval, clearly judging me for losing my dignity over a piece of paper. One even tried climbing into my lap, as if to whisper, "Calm down, Mama. It’s just a letter."

"JUST A LETTER? JUST A LETTER?!" I screamed, pointing at the paper like it had personally betrayed me. "That tyrant—THAT TYRANNICAL male lead of this stupid novel! He’s... he’s... a GRAND DUKE! And yet... he behaves like a total tyrant in front of the Emperor too! Who does he think he is?! DOES HE THINK THE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND HIM?"

(Well... technically yes, because he is the male lead.)

I flopped onto the floor with a dramatic thud, arms splayed, legs kicked out like some tragic, defeated rainbow pancake. My crimson babies pounced on me, licking my face, pawing at my chest, and wagging their tails like they were mocking me.

I groaned, flailing one arm, "STOP JUDGING ME! I’m already emotionally crushed over a single letter!"

But then... a small, unexpected relief bloomed in my chest.

He didn’t go running after Elowen. He... chose me.

And then reality hit like a trebuchet. A big, horrifying, world-shaking reality.

"FUCK! This also means... the whispers! The rumors!" I sat up, clutching my hair, eyes wide. "They must have spread across the entire empire by now... # Grand Duke loves Count Viktor’s son... Leif Thorenvald ?!"

My crimson babies froze, as if suddenly aware of the scandalous implications, their golden eyes staring at me like, Yep. This is going to be a problem.

I slumped back against the floor, staring at the ceiling. The majestic plaster swirls might as well have been mocking me.

"I... I am not going to the capital city anymore." I whispered, muttering to myself, "Nope. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not EVER. I am... staying here... with my babies... where it’s safe."

I glanced at the letter again, hugging it tightly to my chest. "...But also... maybe I’ll write him back. Just a tiny reply. You know... polite, nonchalant, not-at-all-panicked..."

My crimson babies huffed in unison, clearly skeptical of my self-control.