[Leif's POV—On the Morning of Departure—Thorenvald Estate—Frojnholm]
'...Master...'
Zephyy perched on my shoulder, tail flicking like a metronome of doom. His golden serpent eyes, however, were not on the scenery. It was at my butt.
I narrowed my eyes. 'What?'
He gave a long, dramatic pause, then muttered in my head through telepathy:
'…So… your monstrous boyfriend is actually a monster—'
'Shut it,' I hissed immediately, clutching his tiny paw. 'Utter one more word and I swear, I'm leaving you behind. No capital, no city food, no shiny things. You'll stay here chewing on moss.'
His eyes blinked wide, then narrowed with a flick of disdain. '...Tch. I was only being concerned. I could've healed you myself, you know.'
'NO THANKS.' I jabbed a finger at him. 'If Alvar sees anyone—anyone—lay a hand on my ass, whether it's a healer, priest, or half-baked dragon in kitten cosplay, he'll kill them on the spot.'
