NOVPUBThe moment we stepped into the reception hall, we were hit with the same kind of background noise you'd expect from a royal gala—chattering, whispers, laughter—but with one key difference: no one was getting too close to Layla and Amelia.
And honestly, I couldn't blame them.
There they were—Layla and Amelia—sitting together like royalty. Layla had one leg elegantly crossed over the other. Amelia sat beside her, laughing softly. Together, they looked like they belonged on a painting.
Even the women in the room couldn't help but throw daggers of envy their way, while the men? They were practically holding their breath, too intimidated to approach.
Layla could charm a rock if she wanted to. That was just who she was—raised with the grace, etiquette, and poise of a future queen. But this wasn't just about manners or charm. She was talking with her sister-in-law, and anyone with half a brain could see they genuinely got along.
"And then that night," Layla said, giggling, "he came barging into my room all of a sudden. I asked him what was wrong, and he just stood there and said, 'I had a nightmare.' You should've seen his face."
Amelia burst into laughter. "John can be such a sweetheart sometimes. A little too protective, isn't he?"
"Oh, absolutely." Layla nodded, smiling fondly.
Amelia nodded frantically her head. "Actually, on our way here, he nearly punched a guy just because he accidentally bumped into me. It's always like that with him. If I didn't stop him every time, half the men around us would be in the infirmary."
As they shared their stories, I glanced over at John—whose face was frozen in sheer horror.
Mouth slightly open. Eyes wide.
It was perfect.
I didn't hesitate—I pulled out my phone and took a quick picture with a flash.
The light snapped him out of his stunned state.
"What the hell did you just do?" He said, spinning toward me.
"Just a little souvenir," I said, slipping the phone back into my pocket. "A picture of you mid-cringe."
"I wasn't cringing," John grumbled, turning away.
"Sure you weren't. Also, I seriously hope you stopped running to Layla's room after having nightmares. You're not a kid anymore. Show some dignity, man."
He glared. "That was years ago, asshole."
"Oh? Years ago? You mean when you already had memories of your past life?"
John groaned loudly and stormed ahead, clearly determined to put an end to the embarrassing conversation before they brought up his bedtime rituals too.
"Wait, I need to hear more," I said, stepping forward.
"Fuck off," John shot back, brushing past me without even slowing down.
"Oh, brother, finally," Layla said with a sigh of relief as he approached. Then her eyes slid to me, and she gave a slow, sweet smile that seemed warm on the surface—too warm. "You took your time, Honey."
There was something in her tone—something subtle, hidden beneath the charm—that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. That smile of hers, so radiant and easy, suddenly felt… dangerous.
Wait.
She couldn't possibly… know?
No, no.
There's no way…
"I'm here now," I replied, trying to keep my voice light, unaffected.
"Wonderful," Layla said, her tone cheerful again. She turned her head to Amelia with a playful glint in her eyes. "Shall we head out, sister-in-law?"
"O–Oh! Yes, of course!" Amelia said, stumbling slightly over her words. Her eyes were practically sparkling with excitement—completely smitten.
Layla had already won her over. That much was clear.
"Let's go, John," Amelia said as she reached out and gently took John's hand, her smile soft and affectionate.
"What were you two talking about?" John asked, a flicker of suspicion in his tone.
"Nothing important. Just a little heart-to-heart between us girls," Amelia said with a laugh, tugging him along.
The second her body leaned into his, all of John's annoyance seemed to vanish like it had never existed. His face relaxed, a lazy smile creeping in as he let himself be pulled along.
"What an easy guy," I muttered under my breath, watching how easily he was swayed.
As I stood there, briefly lost in thought, I suddenly felt something warm and soft loop around my arm. I glanced to the side.
Layla was now pressing herself gently against me, her arm coiled around mine as if it belonged there. Her head tilted slightly up toward me, eyes glimmering with affection. Her smile was nothing short of breathtaking—graceful, and truly disarming.
Even her eyelashes were beautiful. Everything about her was. And she knew it.
"What are you waiting for, Honey?" she said, lips curving with amusement.
"Nothing," I replied with a small smile, brushing off my nerves and starting to walk. "Let's go."
[<What an easy guy.>]
Shut up.
As we followed behind John and Amelia, Layla's gaze lingered on the two of them walking ahead—talking, laughing, close.
"You look happy," I said, side-eyeing her.
"I am," she said with a soft sigh. "I didn't think it would happen, honestly. But it finally did—my brother found someone. Someone who actually sees him and loves him back. That makes me really happy."
I nodded. "Yeah, I'm glad too. Mostly because it means he'll finally stop hovering around my wife."
Layla's lips turned into a pout as she faced me. "I wish my Honey would stalk me as much as I stalk him."
There was zero shame in her voice. Just bold, unfiltered affection.
She might genuinely be one of the only women in existence who could say something like that with a straight face—and make it sound like a romantic confession.
"Well, I don't have a built-in spy network or a nosy brother leaking top-secret information about you," I said with a pointed glance at John's back, my irritation simmering. That bastard had probably told her everything he could—just feeding her breadcrumbs without realizing she'd bake a damn cake out of it.
Layla, as always, just smiled.
"So, how's the academy treating you these days?" I asked, glancing at Layla as we walked. She was currently in her second year at the Royal Eden Academy.
"Mm, boring," she replied without hesitation, tossing her hair back with a sigh. "Still always tied for first place with Aurora, though. Ex aequo, every single time. She is a quite hard opponent to beat."
Her tone made it sound like even academic domination had lost its thrill.
She glanced at me, her lips curling into a playful pout. "If Honey were there, I'm sure things would be a lot more interesting."
I gave a small chuckle. "Trust me, I feel the same. My academy hasn't exactly been a paradise lately. Lately… it's just been cold. Everyone pretty much hates me—and they don't even bother pretending anymore."
Layla's expression shifted. The teasing in her eyes faded, replaced by something colder, more dangerous.
"Oh? Because you suddenly married a foreign princess from an enemy nation?" She asked.
"Huh… well, not entirely," I said quickly, steering away from the Freyja minefield. "More like… because of this."
I reached up and began to unwind the bandages covering my right arm, revealing the golden emblem etched across my forearm. It shimmered faintly, glowing with a soft, divine light.
Layla's eyes widened slightly. "The Emblem of the Guardian of the Tree of Ymir…" She reached out and brushed her fingers along the markings.
"Do you feel different?" She asked curiously, still tracing the lines of the emblem with delicate care.
"Yeah, kind of," I said. "It's hard to explain. It's like… I can feel the Tree. Not just sense it, but feel it. Like it's connected to me in this weird, intimate way. Honestly, it feels more like I'm its parent or caretaker than its protector. Like I'm raising it. It's strange… but I don't hate it."
I purposely didn't mention how I felt a similar connection to Freyja. That part was... complicated and dangerous to mention right now.
Layla looked up at me, a quiet thoughtfulness in her eyes. "Then why are you hiding it, Honey?"
"Because it attracts too much attention," I said. "And if people see it, they'll instantly know who I am. The emblem's unique—it's not something you can mistake."
The broadcast of that battle had shown the emblem too clearly, and with it, my face. Anyone who saw both would know instantly.
Layla's expression turned a bit serious as she nodded.
"You'll be in danger from now on," she said softly.
"I know," I replied.
That emblem… it's more than just a title. It's a target.
I didn't need anyone to spell it out for me. I was the Guardian of the Tree of Ymir rumored to be more sacred than even the legendary Tree of Eden.
And now the entire world knew it.
But in truth, I wasn't the one in the most danger.
It was Utopia.
It stood on the edge of a knife. The moment the world found out I was the Guardian of the Tree of Ymir—and that the tree itself had taken root in Utopian soil—we basically painted a massive glowing target on its back. Every greedy noble, ambitious lord, and fanatical cultist with delusions of grandeur would start seeing Utopia as the next holy conquest.
Thankfully, Aunt Belle had stepped in. Her influence, combined with the weight the Falkrona name still carried, was enough to make most would-be invaders hesitate. It bought us time. Not a lot, but just enough. Enough to let Freyja get to work.
That's what she was doing now—rebuilding Utopia from the ground up, especially its military and defensive infrastructure. She knew exactly what was coming. 𝓃𝓸𝓿𝓹𝓾𝓫.𝓬ℴ𝓶
She wasn't just ruling.
She was preparing for war.
I was just lost in those thoughts when an annoyingly familiar voice yanked me out of them.
"Oh? The hell are you all doing here?"
I blinked and looked up. John had come to a halt in front of me.
Ahead of him stood Rodolf, and—of course—he wasn't alone.
Cylien was with him, standing at his side with a curious look.
