Leonard Miscalculation

After Leonard finished his conversation with the Pope, he returned to his quarters in the temple. His thoughts were a tangled mess as he loosened his white robe, intending to change into something more comfortable. The day had been long, but before he could fully relax, the raven had contacted him through the magic tool, carrying urgent news.

Leonard's fingers froze mid-motion as he listened. The Duchess had invited Priest Alexander, the Pope's nephew, into her quarter.

For a fleeting moment, an uncharacteristic surge of panic shot through him. His first instinct was to teleport directly to Vivian's quarters, to see for himself what was happening. The thought of another man being near her, especially him, made his blood simmer.

But he stopped himself.

He needed to trust Vivian. He needed to believe that she wouldn't betray him. She wasn't the kind of woman to act recklessly or throw herself into another man's arms. She was his Vivian, the woman who had loved him for years, the one who had endured the pain of waiting for him. He wanted to believe she still held that same patience and devotion in her heart.

And yet… doubt lingered like an unwelcome shadow.

Vivian had changed recently. He had seen it in her eyes, in the way she carried herself, in the subtle yet undeniable distance between them. Was she still the same woman who once clung to him so earnestly? Or had time worn down her love for him?

The divorce had been a mistake, Leonard knew that better than anyone even without Alaric consent reminder. But circumstances had left him no choice. Too many things were at stake, too many forces at play. If only she could wait a little longer. Just a little more. He prayed, desperately, that her three years of waiting had not pushed her past her limit.

But deep down, he feared it was already too late.

The second time the raven contacted him, Leonard's entire body tensed. The news it carried sent a wave of cold dread through him.

Vivian and Priest Alexander.

Leonard's worst nightmare had come true.

His breath turned shallow, his mind refusing to accept it. No… that can't be right. She wouldn't.

Would she?

A sharp pain clenched his chest, a suffocating mixture of anger, betrayal, and desperation. The rational part of him tried to reason with the situation, but his emotions raged louder. He had placed the raven near Vivian to protect her, not to spy on her. He never intended to monitor her every move, only to ensure her safety. The knights assigned to guard her were skilled, but they weren't omnipotent. They couldn't sense all the dangers lurking in the shadows.

And yet, despite all his precautions, the raven had brought him this.

He had hoped to keep his distance, to avoid seeing her, to suppress the longing that tormented him day and night. He had wanted to take care of her from afar, fulfilling her unspoken needs without directly involving himself and also in order to get her to file for divorce.

But now… now that plan had fallen through but it seems like his life had fallen apart.

Leonard couldn't sit still any longer. He had to see for himself.

Without hesitation, he teleported into Vivian's quarters. The protective barrier surrounding her chamber was formidable, designed to keep intruders out, but it couldn't stop him.

The moment he arrived, time seemed to slow.

The scene before him was like a knife to the gut.

Vivian lay beneath another man.

Priest Alexander hovered over her, his face far too close, his presence far too intimate.

Something inside Leonard snapped.

Pure, unfiltered rage coursed through his veins, hotter than molten fire. Before he could think, his instincts took over. With a flick of his wrist, an invisible force hurled Alexander off her, sending him crashing to the ground.

Leonard's sharp gaze darted to Vivian.

His breath caught in his throat.

Her usually vibrant red hair was damp, strands clinging to her flushed skin. Her ruby-red eyes, always so expressive, were filled with lust. A small towel was loosely wrapped around her body, barely covering her. And worst of all…

A mark.

A dark, hateful hickey stained the delicate skin of her neck.

Leonard's entire world tilted. His fury deepened into something far more dangerous, something lethal.

His hands clenched into fists. His breathing grew uneven. His mind screamed at him to unleash his power, to erase the man who dared touch what was his.

Vivian, still dazed, finally lifted her gaze to him. Recognition flickered in her eyes, and her lips parted.

"Leonard…" she whispered.

The sound of his name on her lips should have soothed him. Instead, it only fueled his torment.

His fingers twitched, the urge to claim her, to erase any trace of another man, overwhelming him. But instead of acting on impulse, he took a deep breath and forced himself to stay in control.

With a flick of his fingers, a dress materialized over her body. He made sure it was warm, ensuring she wouldn't catch a cold. But most importantly, it covered her neck, shielding the offensive mark from his sight.

His movements were quick and precise, leaving no room for argument.

Only then did he finally turn his attention to Alexander.

The priest had already stood, calmly smoothing out his pristine white robes. His composed demeanor only served to irritate Leonard further. How dare he act so unaffected?

Leonard knew that the only reason he had been able to land an attack earlier was because Alexander had been caught off guard. In truth, they were equals in power. Just as Leonard had the divine blessings of Aetherion as the Head of the Magic Tower, Alexander held the blessings of Leuhtaz as the next Pope and wielder of the highest holy power. If they fought, the outcome was unpredictable.

Under different circumstances, Leonard wouldn't have hesitated to kill him.

But Alexander's identity complicates matters. The rumors surrounding him, the political implications, it was too much trouble.

Still, Leonard's voice was ice-cold as he spoke.

"Priest Alexander, I expect a very good explanation the next time we meet. But for now, I have more important matters to discuss, with my wife."

He didn't wait for a response.

In the next instant, he seized Vivian's wrist and teleported them away, leaving Alexander alone in the chamber.

The priest remained silent, his expression unreadable.

But his clenched fists betrayed his true emotions. His nails dug into his palm, breaking the skin. Blood dripped from his hands, staining the white fabric of his robes.

And yet, despite the pain, he remained still, his thoughts concealed behind an impenetrable mask.