[Nick’s POV — Servant’s Quarters—Same Time]

I was trembling, my hands shaking as I remembered him—Lord Leif—lying on the floor, pale, fragile, a shadow of the indomitable man who had never shown weakness. The image haunted me, claws of fear gripping my chest.

Then—

"Nick!"

A maid came running toward me, eyes wide with urgency. "Lord Leif... he’s awake!"

My heart nearly stopped. "He... he’s awake?" I whispered, disbelief and hope colliding in a storm inside me. I started to run, but a sharp voice froze me in place.

"Nick..."

I turned. Lord Eryndor’s gaze pinned me, steady and cold, but there was an edge of concern beneath it. "Not now," he said firmly. "The Grand Duke is with him. Until then... send word to the chef. Prepare something light he can digest."

I swallowed hard, nodding, my throat tight. I turned away, and only in the quiet of the hallway did the relief hit me. Tears slipped down my cheeks, unbidden. I clutched my chest.

"Thank God..." I whispered. "Thank God..."

Lord Leif had never shown weakness. Never turned his back on us since the day he arrived. And yet... I could never forget the image that day in the forest. The way he had clutched his chest, trembling, pain written across his face.

***

[Two Days Earlier—Forest]

"Nick... Hah... something’s wrong..."

His voice was strained and ragged. Lord Leif clutched his chest as if unseen hands were crushing his heart. I froze, my own hands gripping his in panic.

"My lord... what... what’s wrong?" I stammered.

The world tilted on its axis. His eyes flickered, wide and terrified, and I realized—I couldn’t move fast enough.

"STOP THE CARRIAGE!!!" I shouted, my voice cracking.

The horses skidded to a halt. Knights rushed to the doors, their armored boots clanging against the wooden floor.

"What happene—" one yelled and paused, stunned.

Lord Leif was pale as moonlight, unconscious in my lap. My knees nearly buckled, tears streaming down my face.

"Something... something happened to my lord. He..." I couldn’t finish.

The knights acted immediately, hauling him out of the carriage. "He needs fresh air! Move him now!"

"Someone—find a physician from the nearest village, now!" Someone yelled.

As one group worked to stabilize him, a shadow shifted among the trees. But then... movement from the shadows caught my attention.

"Who’s there?" I demanded, voice trembling.

From behind the trees, a figure stepped forward—silent, observing. Then, as if on cue, five more emerged from the darkness. One of them darted back into the shadows. "I’ll inform the Grand Duke!" he called, disappearing as quickly as he appeared.

I barely registered their presence. Everything blurred. All that mattered was him.

He looked so pale... so fragile...

What if we lose him?

No... no... it cannot happen.

"Please... please..." I whispered, voice trembling, almost praying aloud. "Someone... fairy, spirit, god... anyone... please... help him..."

Then—

POOF!!!

And a roar that shattered the forest echoed around us. My eyes widened in sheer shock as the knights collapsed to the ground, blinded by the intensity of it.

Before us stood Zephyy—no longer a small blue kitty, but a massive, brilliant blue dragon.

"Zephyy... you...!" I gasped, frozen in awe and terror.

He roared again, a deep, commanding sound, eyes locked on Lord Leif as if saying: This is not the time for hesitation. We need to save him.

His glowing eyes locked onto Lord Leif, unyielding, protective. Then the shadowy figure from before stepped forward, voice steady but urgent. "Take Lord Leif to Frojnholm first... quickly."

I nodded quickly, still shaking, heart hammering in my chest. The knights helped us climb onto Zephyy’s massive back, careful but hasty. I held Lord Leif against me, clinging tightly, as the wind whipped through our hair. The dragon’s scales glittered under the forest’s pale light as it spread its massive wings.

I clutched Lord Leif tighter, wrapping my arms around him protectively. His face was pale, lips slightly parted, and breathing shallow but steady.

"Please, God..." I whispered, heart hammering against my chest. "Please... do not let anything happen to our Lord Leif. Please..."

Zephyy leapt into the sky, carrying us through the clouds. Below, the forest disappeared into a blur. My hands never left Lord Leif, my whole body trembling, my mind a chaotic storm of fear, hope, and helpless devotion.

All I could do was cling to him, pray, and trust that the heavens themselves would not let him fall.

***

[Frojnholm—Later]

THUD!

Zephyy landed with the force of a storm on the training ground. The earth trembled beneath his claws, and crimson packs scattered back, howling in alarm at the sudden arrival. Everyone present froze, eyes widening in disbelief.

"A... a dragon..." Sir Roland muttered, voice barely audible, disbelief coloring every word.

But I had no time for awe. I looked down at Lord Leif, limp in my arms, skin pale, breath shallow. My hands shook violently as I clutched him tighter, praying silently.

"Please... someone... call the physician..." My voice was raw, a broken whisper that barely carried.

Sir Roland’s eyes widened when he took in the sight—Lord Leif, unconscious, trembling in my arms. Without hesitation, he sprang into action. "Leave him to me!" he barked, scaling the steps with surprising speed, cradling Lord Leif against his chest.

"Call Eryndor... immediately! Now!"

I nodded frantically, my throat tight with panic. Zephyy—tiny and almost vulnerable again—skidded behind Sir Roland, tail twitching, eyes bright with concern, as if urging him on.

The world narrowed to the path ahead. That day, every servant, every knight, even the crimson packs—usually fierce and untouchable—stood still, silent, hearts heavy with dread. We all, in our own way, offered prayers to any deity that would listen.

Please... do not let anything happen to him. Not Lord Leif... not our master...

The sun dipped low over Frojnholm’s spires, casting long shadows across the courtyard, and still I held him, refusing to let go, feeling the fragile pulse of life beneath my hands. Every second stretched into eternity. Every breath he drew was a miracle I dared not take for granted.

Even the wind seemed to pause, as if waiting alongside us, holding its breath, hoping that fate might spare the one who had never spared himself.

***

[Two Days Earlier—Regulfsson Mansion—Alvar’s Office]

A sharp, nagging ache pricked at my chest, one I couldn’t ignore. My instincts screamed that something was off.

"...he’s been too silent," Haldor’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I blinked, frowning. "What?"

Haldor’s gaze met mine, calm but edged with concern. "I’m saying... there’s no word from the Second Prince. No reports, no updates... he’s been too silent."

I furrowed my brows, tension coiling in my chest. "The Second Prince... silent?"

"Yes, Your Grace. He’s locked himself in his chambers again, refusing to come out."

I exhaled slowly, the ache in my chest tightening. The Second Prince—was never one to draw attention. During birthday events or public ceremonies, he appeared like a flash of light, subtle but impossible to ignore. And yet... the rumors that swirled around him were dark. Whispers of conspiracy, of betrayal, of plotting against the throne.

I turned to Haldor, masking the edge of worry I felt. "Alright. Keep watch. Don’t let anything slip by."

Before Haldor could reply, the office door SLAMMED open with a force that shook the walls. One of the Leif shadows I hired dashed in hurriedly, his face pale and eyes wide. "Your Grace! Something has happened to Lord Leif... the dragon—he—he’s taken him to Frojnholm for now!"

My hand shot out instinctively, gripping the edge of the desk so hard my knuckles whitened. My heart hammering, I didn’t need to hear more. That name—Leif in danger—was enough.

Haldor’s face paled, but he nodded sharply, already moving toward the door. I didn’t wait for him. Every step toward the stables, toward the frojnholm, was propelled by a single, blinding thought:

Do not let anything happen to him. Not my Leif. Not ever.