CHAPTER 83: STEALING THE MALE LEAD

[Leif’s POV—Commoner’s Market—Continuation]

I blinked at Elowen, cotton candy drooping in my hand, heart sinking like a rock in a pond.

"Seriously?" I muttered under my breath. "One peaceful moment... is that too much to ask?"

Alvar’s hand tightened slightly over mine, still calm, still perfect. His gaze, however, was ice-sharp, scanning every inch of the space between us and her.

Elowen’s eyes narrowed at our closeness, then suddenly her face lit up in an almost blinding beam. "Lord Leif! Grand Duke Alvar! What a great coincidence!"

Oh sure. "Coincidence."More like "stalker side quest: level two."

I swear, this woman had installed a magical tracker on me. It’s the only logical explanation. I mean, what kind of fantasy GPS lets you find your romantic rivals mid–cotton candy break?

I tilted my head up at Alvar, curious how my ever-so-perfect fiancé-slash-ex-male-lead would handle this infuriatingly cheerful female lead.

He didn’t move an inch. Not a blink. Not a twitch. Just... stillness. Pure deadly calm.

I leaned back on the wooden bench, cotton candy nearly forgotten, and muttered, "This is going to be good."

Alvar’s eyes finally locked on Elowen. His voice, low and steady, cut through the bustling market like a blade. "What are you doing here, Elowen?"

She smiled, sweet as a sunbeam, eyes sparkling. "Alvar, I—"

"Wait," he interrupted, his voice dropping an octave and slicing the warmth right out of the air. "I don’t recall telling you to be informal with me, Elowen."

Silence.

Complete, utter silence.

Even the birds seemed to hold their breath.

Elowen froze mid-smile. The sunlight glinting off her hair dimmed somehow—literally dimmed, I swear—and her sparkling aura deflated like a popped balloon.

And me? Oh, I was living. Sitting on that bench, cotton candy in hand, heart racing with delight. Popcorn, please. Someone pass me popcorn.

Elowen’s jaw tightened. She blinked once, twice, clearly trying to recalibrate the social disaster Alvar had just inflicted.

Alvar, on the other hand, remained stoic as a mountain. Ice-cold, perfectly composed... and yet, oh-so-satisfyingly terrifying.

I muffled a laugh behind my cotton candy, whispering to Zephyy in my pocket: "Ohhh yes... watch the perfect male lead treat the cheerful female lead like... like she just insulted his ancestors. This is entertainment gold, Zephyy."

Zephyy twitched his tail. "Master... do not laugh. You’re encouraging chaos."

"Nope. Too late. I am fully invested."

Elowen finally cleared her throat, her voice faltering just slightly. "Alvar... I only—"

"Did you not hear me clearly, Elowen or....you are being informal deliberately?"he said, voice smooth, deadly, and husky all at once. "...Or...you wish to make it worse for yourself."

Oh, bless him. He said that like he was reading a death sentence off a grocery list. I had to bite my cotton candy to stop myself from laughing. The fluff stuck to my lips like karma.

I sighed happily. Popcorn, indeed.

Elowen bowed her head, her voice trembling slightly. "I... apologize, Your Grace. I... I crossed my line."

Alvar’s gaze didn’t soften. His eyes were ice, and his presence... lethal calm. Finally, he let out a measured sigh. "Alright. If you’re done, you may leave. Do not disturb our peace."

Wow. Straightforward. Brutal. I loved it.

But she didn’t leave. Because apparently, embarrassment wasn’t fatal.

"I... actually heard something about your—uh—Your Grace," she stammered, clinging to dignity by a thread.

Alvar’s cold gaze drilled into her. "And what do you want me to do?"

She flinched at the sheer force of his words, fingers clenching into fists. Then she forced a small, defiant smile. "I... just wanted to confirm. I... I—"

Her eyes darted to me. "I... heard that you and Lord Leif... both are—"

And then... she stopped. Stammered. Choked on her own words.

Alvar’s voice dropped, calm but deadly. "Whatever you heard is correct. Leif and I are... getting married soon. Those are not mere rumors."

The words landed like a hammer.

Oh, the silence that followed. The collective gasp from nearby shoppers. The sound of Elowen’s ego disintegrating in real time. You could have bottled the drama and sold it.

She clutched her chest as if it physically hurt. "W...what? How... how is that possible? You should... you should not—"

Alvar didn’t flinch. Didn’t explain. Didn’t soften. He stood, towering over her with that icy composure that made everyone else feel like they’d been shoved into a blizzard. Then, without a hint of hesitation, he took my hand.

"If you’re done here, we’re leaving—for a private date. Consider this your formal dismissal, Elowen."

Private date. The man was weaponizing affection now.

She opened her mouth to protest, but Alvar paused just long enough, a final shard of cruelty sparkling in his eyes.

"And," he added, his voice sharp as a blade, "I am stepping away from your support as the next Saintess—if the selection even begins again. Neither Leif will take any oath for you. Find someone else and Consider this the last time we meet, Elowen. Goodbye... and don’t expect to ever see us again."

Boom.Social death. Immediate. Permanent.

Elowen froze, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Wha... your Grace, you cannot—"

But Alvar didn’t wait to hear the rest. He simply turned, pulling me along by the hand.

And me?

. . .

. . .

Oh, I was laughing inside.Laughing like the unholy gremlin I am.

I mean, he didn’t just reject her. He emotionally nuked her. No sweat, no hesitation, just goodbye forever.

I leaned against him, grinning like an idiot, sticky cotton candy in one hand and cold perfection in the other. "Ahhh... that was beautiful."

Zephyy peeked out from my pocket, unimpressed. "Master, you are enjoying this too much."

"Quiet," I whispered. "You’re ruining my moment."

Alvar glanced down at me with that faintly amused expression—the one that said ’I know exactly how chaotic you are, and I’m choosing peace anyway.’

We kept walking, hand in hand, leaving Elowen behind like yesterday’s side character.

And I couldn’t help it. I smiled wider. Because, technically, there was no male lead anymore.The "hero" had just been stolen.

By me.The second male lead.The background gremlin with cotton candy.

Honestly? It felt amazing.

I peeked up at Alvar, who walked like a walking statue of composure, entirely oblivious to my mental monologue. Perfect, calm, cold... and mine.

If my life were a book right now, the title would be:"I Stole the Male Lead from the Heroine (And Got Cotton Candy Too)."

I squeezed his hand. He arched an eyebrow."You seem unusually happy," he murmured.

I leaned my head against his shoulder, grinning. "Because sometimes the best things you ’steal’ make you fall in love even deeper."

He frowned slightly. "I don’t understand your metaphors."

"That’s okay," I said, beaming. "You don’t have to. I do enough overthinking for both of us."

Alvar sighed, the faintest smile ghosting his lips. "Mission accomplished, then?"

"Yup." I grinned, eyes sparkling. "Mission ’Make Elowen Regret Her Life Choices’—complete success."

And as we disappeared into the crowd—him regal, me smug, and Zephyy judging—we left behind a stunned saintess, a ruined reputation, and the faint smell of spun sugar and chaos.

Honestly?Perfect date.