[Leif's POV]
The office door slammed shut behind Alvar as he went off to "gather the men," which apparently meant rallying a bunch of exhausted soldiers into carpenters.
Me? I sat there staring at the crooked doodle of my "glorious vegetable shack," wondering if this was genius or the world's stupidest drunk idea.
I dragged my hand down my face. "Ugh. Why do I only get brain cells when I'm drunk? Should I just stay permanently wasted? Productive alcoholism?"
The hearth cracked. The parchment glared back at me like it was mocking me. And then my treacherous brain whispered again: Did you see him smile though?
I slammed my head against the desk. "Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Not allowed. Crisis first, gay panic later."
…
But still. That smile.
Goddammit.
I should go to my chamber before I lose my mind over a male lead.
As soon as I stumbled back into my room, I collapsed dramatically onto the bed—legs sprawled, arms thrown wide like some tragic hero statue. I stretched with a groan, curling my toes and arching like a cat.
"Ahhh—yes. That feels good. Bed, my eternal lover. Please never leave me."
The door creaked open and Nick, the ever-polite servant boy, poked his head in. "My lord, would you like some tea?"
I rolled my head to the side to give him a lazy glance. "Thanks, Nick, but no. If I drink tea now, I'll stay awake and contemplate… dangerous things."
Nick stepped inside with a tray anyway, putting it down. "Then perhaps, my lord, you'd like to look around the estate? Fresh air is good for… preventing dangerous thoughts."
I blinked at him. "…Are you reading my mind?"
He only smiled innocently.
Now that he mentioned it, I hadn't properly looked around since I arrived. Between surviving as leif, drunk farm planning, and my ongoing battle against gay panic… sightseeing wasn't exactly high on the priority list.
I sat up, brushing my hair out of my face. "Hmm. You know what, Nick? You're right. Let's look around. Let's honor this estate with my glorious presence. Lead the way!"
Nick's lips twitched into the brightest smile. "Then you should also see the hot spring, my lord."
I froze mid-pose. "…Wait. Hold the holy sword of Excalibur. We. Have. A. HOT SPRING?!"
Nick chuckled, clearly entertained by my wide-eyed, sparkly look. "Yes, my lord. It's right behind the estate, a natural one. The water stays warm even in the harshest winter."
My soul ascended. My Japanese soul. My ancestors were whispering in my ear, This is destiny, child.
As a Japanese man… hot springs aren't just hot water. They are salvation. They are therapy. They are… life itself!
I clapped his shoulder with solemn dignity. "Nick, prepare the towels. Tonight, we bathe like kings."
Paradise awaited me.
But of course…
Of course.
I was never destined for peace.
There I stood, just outside the estate gates, clutching a glorious wicker basket stuffed with pastries—soft buns oozing cream, golden tarts glistening like treasure, and a bottle of wine nestled in the corner like the holy grail. Because listen, desserts and hot springs? Together? That's basically enlightenment. That's nirvana.
And who blocks the path to nirvana?
The Grand Duke himself.
Alvar Ragnulfsson, the male lead carved out of icebergs and bad decisions, stood like a wall in front of me—arms crossed, eyes sharp, lips in that eternal flat line that screamed, "I've never smiled in my life and I won't start now."
His gaze flickered to the basket, then to me. "Where are you going?"
I flashed him the kind of smile saints write hymns about. "To bathe in the hot spring, of course. With pastries. And wine. Obviously."
His eyes narrowed. He was not moved.
Then...
"I've received a letter. From Elowen."
Damn, again? Elowen again?!
I groaned physically, throwing my head back so dramatically even the clouds looked down like, calm down, dude.
"Leif, you need to read—"
For the god sake....this is getting on my nerves.
I cut him off, glare sharp as a sword. "Let me guess. The letter's about me returning to the capital. About me kneeling, taking some ridiculous oath in front of Lady Elowen so she can finally move forward with her saintess career. Am I right?"
For the first time, his posture stiffened, a flicker of something flashing across his face. Caught.
"After the greenhouse project," he said slowly, "I request you to fulfill your promise."
"Oh for god's sake…" I muttered, tightening my grip on the basket before I chucked a pastry at his perfect forehead. "Grand Duke, let me give you a suggestion."
His brows furrowed. "…What?"
I tilted my head, smiled coldly, and let my words drop like daggers. "Why don't you take the oath?"
That actually shook him. His eyes widened just a fraction, a crack in the iceberg. "…What?"
"You heard me. Take a Oath, Grand duke." I stepped closer, staring up at him with all the righteous fury of a man about to canonize himself. "You couldn't do it? Then why are you forcing me?"
Alvar flinched. Just a little.
"As a citizen of this kingdom," I continued, my voice sharp, "even the Grand Duke should know better than to force someone into becoming another person's obedient little dog."
Boom. Mic drop.
I turned on my heel, cape swishing dramatically because yes, even the wind knew this was cinema. My hair even fluttered like I was in a shampoo commercial.
Without looking back, I strode toward the hot spring, raising my voice just enough to pierce the heavy silence.
"I have my own life, Grand Duke. If Elowen is capable of becoming the saintess, then she'll do it on her own. Without me. Without my oath. Without dragging any of us in her support."
I paused, glanced over my shoulder just once, and locked eyes with him.
"So," I said, cold as the mountain air, "I hope this is the last conversation we ever have about Elowen. Or my promise."
And with that, I marched off toward paradise—pastries rattling in my basket, wine clinking like a victory fanfare, and the wind sweeping dramatically at my back like a loyal side character.
***
[Hot Spring—Later]
SPLASHHHHH!!!!
As I plopped myself into the steaming water, every bone in my body screamed, hallelujah.
"Ahhhhh… YES! This is it! THIS is heaven on earth! No… screw heaven—THIS is BETTER than heaven!" I threw my arms up like some cult leader welcoming his congregation.
Of course, the heavenly moment was short-lived, because just five minutes ago, His Royal Pain-in-the-Ass, the Grand Duke himself, nearly burned my patience into ashes.
"Tch! Stubborn brick wall…" I hissed, snatching a pastry from my basket and sinking my teeth into it.Mmm. Fluffy. Sweet. Perfect. "This—THIS is how you forget a certain… dickhead."
CRUNCH.
…CRUNCH.
…CRUNCH?!
My jaw froze mid-chew. I blinked at the cake in my hand. "Wait… Am I… crushing this THAT hard?"
And then—
"Leif…"
I snapped my head forward—And nearly choked.
Oh. My. Actual. GOD.HE WAS HERE.Again.Like some cursed cockroach who refuses to die!
I made the ugliest annoyed face and dramatically whipped my head away. "I am currently having the most beautiful, most peaceful, most sacred moment of my life. Please. Do. Not—"
"I AM SORRY!"
……Excuse me. What?
My entire brain went blue screen of death.
Did… Did Alvar Ragnulfsson, Grand Duke of Stern-Face-Land, just… apologize?
I rubbed my ear aggressively. Maybe water had slipped in, and I was just hallucinating bubbles. I tilted my head and gurgled to test it. No… no water.
He repeated, expression still stiff as a wooden plank.
"You didn't hear wrong. I really said… SORRY."
Blink.Blink.
I squinted. He squinted.
Finally, I sniffed, nose high, like the most benevolent king.
"It's alright. After all, I have a very, very beautiful heart. That's why I forgive you. You may now go home and write this in your diary as—'Best Moment of My Life.'"
Silence.
And then—
"Pfft—"
My head whipped at him so fast I nearly sprained my neck. "Did you just LAUGH?!"
He immediately coughed, face dead serious again. "No."
Oh, liar. Ohhh, LIAR.
I squinted harder, activating my laser eyes scan mode. "…Fine. If you're done being a brick wall and a liar, please—go."
But instead of leaving…He removed his cloak.
…And then his shirt.
…And then his boots.
I blinked. "What are you doing?"
He blinked back, already pulling at his gloves. "I'm joining too."
…
EXCUSE FUCK ME???
MY MIND—Blank. Empty. Wiped.
Because right in front of me—Was pure, sculpted muscle art. Abs. Chest. Collarbone so sharp it could slice bread. Veins that screamed hydrated and dangerous.
I, Leif, humble mortal, had ascended.
"The angels… the angels have blessed my eyes today," I muttered reverently, clutching my pastry like a holy offering.
And then—He hooked his thumbs into the band of his underwear.
…
My soul LEFT my body. My eyes—POPPED so wide they nearly fell into the hot spring.
"WAIT—WAIT WAIT WAIT!!! WHY ARE YOU REMOVING YOUR UNDERWEAR?!"
He sighed, completely unbothered, like stripping naked in front of me was some Tuesday ritual."…Because I am getting into the water."
And then—
SLIP.
. . .
. . .
Ladies, gentlemen, angels above, demons below… just like that, I lost. All. Sanity. My soul plopped into the steaming water before my body even had the chance.