[Leif's POV — Thorenvald Estate, Morning Chaos]
I don't remember how long I stood there after that thunderous revelation, but I'm pretty sure my soul left my body somewhere between "divine vessel" and "destined to rule."
Because, newsflash: the so-called Divine Dragon was currently drooling on my shoulder.
And me? I was trying to look normal.
Keyword: trying.
Mother clasped her hands. "We must inform the High Council immediately!"
Father nodded gravely. "If the dragon has chosen its saint, the Holy Order will surely have to start investigating."
Holy Order? Investigate? My blood froze faster than ice magic on steroids.
I forced a smile. "Oh, haha! How… fascinating! You know, dragons, saints, destiny, all that… totally mythical, right? Ha ha ha…"
Blank stares.
Zephyy, the traitorous furball, yawned loudly and stretched—his tiny blue scales glinting under the sunlight like actual divine proof.
