Powerless Boy is reborn as Lustful Elf
Chapter 49: Are you bored?

Chapter 49: Are you bored?

Jusin and Griesla lingered for a moment longer in the doorway of Alex’s new room, their presence framed by the soft glow of light spilling in from the hallway behind them.

Jusin shifted his weight, the floorboards creaking gently beneath his boots as he cast a long glance around the room

his gaze landed on Alex. "Let’s leave you to settle in," he said at last, his voice low and gravelly, but carrying a warmth that grounded the words like a steady hearth.

Beside him, Griesla stood quietly, her hands still folded at her waist, her thin frame bathed in the golden hue of fading afternoon light.

Griesla offered a faint, fleeting smile, more a ghost of an expression than anything full, her pale face framed by the soft folds of her simple gown.

The ruby at her throat caught a final glint of light as she turned, trailing behind Jusin without a word.

Together, they stepped back into the hallway, their figures soon swallowed by shadow.

The quiet creak of the staircase followed, each step they took growing softer, more distant, until the sound faded altogether, leaving a hush behind.

Now alone, Alex stood in the center of the room, the weight of silence pressing gently on his shoulders.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, then dropped his pack with a dull thud onto the wooden floor.

It slumped to the side, half-unzipped, the fabric worn and stained by travel.

With slow, deliberate steps, he began to move about the space, eyes flicking from wall to window, from bed to bookshelves, as if taking the measure of his new world one object at a time.

The room was functional, designed with purpose rather than flair, simple, yet comfortable in its quiet practicality.

A sturdy desk sat by the window, its wood smooth under his fingertips, worn by years of use yet still solid and reliable.

It was positioned to catch the first light of dawn, the golden rays creeping in, casting a soft glow on the surface.

The wide, unadorned panes offered a view of the sprawling compound of Elaris Hold, where mist still clung to the edges of the glass like the faintest breath of morning.

Through the haze, he could make out the winding paths, the distant outlines of the outbuildings, and the quiet hum of life beginning to stir outside.

He drifted to the wardrobe, its carved floral panels catching his eye with their intricate swirls and delicate patterns, as if the wood itself had been shaped by a skilled hand, whispering tales of nature’s beauty.

The craftsmanship was exquisite, each curve and petal telling a story of care and attention.

Sliding the doors open, the rich scent of wood mingled with a faint trace of lavender, a welcome touch of comfort in the stillness of the room.

Inside, it was already stocked with clothes, neatly arranged and well-maintained. Tunics of soft, worn linen in earth tones sat folded beside trousers, their fabric sturdy yet inviting.

A thick cloak in a deep shade of green hung from a hook, the wool feeling heavy and warm to the touch.

It was clear that someone had thoughtfully prepared this space for him, their choices simple yet functional, everything he might need for the days ahead.

Each garment was perfectly sized

A small smirk tugged at his lips as he pieced it all together.

There was no doubt in his mind that Thalorin had orchestrated this.

That quiet, calculating elf had probably slipped them his measurements with the same quiet cunning he used for everything else.

Alex imagined Thalorin sending over the information.

He made a mental note to thank them later, Jusin for his steady kindness, Griesla for her understated care.

They had done more than simply offer him a place to stay; they’d made him feel, if not at home, then at least welcome.

Their quiet gestures had softened the edges of the world he’d been thrown into.

But the room, despite its comfort, couldn’t hold his restless energy.

It felt too still, too filled with the weight of silence, the quiet hum of an unfamiliar place pressing down on him.

He paced back and forth, feeling the walls close in as his thoughts whirled faster than he could follow.

He needed to move, to do something, to find a distraction from the uncertainty that clung to him like a second skin.

With a sigh, he left the room behind and wandered downstairs.

The heavy wooden steps creaked under his weight as he descended, the sound echoing through the empty hall.

When he reached the bottom, he found the living room just as empty, the soft light from the windows casting long, lonesome shadows across the polished floor.

It felt almost surreal in its stillness, the paintings and figurines on the shelves staring silently at him as if they, too, were waiting for something to happen.

Pushing open the front door, he stepped into the crisp air, rich with the scent of damp earth and the promise of rain.

The world outside felt fresher, more alive than the stillness of the house.

He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the cool air that seemed to cleanse his mind

Griesla stood a little ways from the door, her silhouette framed by the soft light of the afternoon sun.

A bag of seeds was cradled in her arms, and the earthy smell of the soil seemed to cling to her, dusting the hem of her plain gown.

She glanced up, catching him standing there, and for a brief moment, their eyes met—his filled with quiet curiosity, hers with a guarded neutralit

"Bored already?" she asked, her voice curt and clipped, though not harsh.

"Bored already?" she asked, her voice curt and clipped, though not harsh.

"Yes," he replied, his voice steady, though his stance betrayed a hint of restlessness. He shifted slightly, feeling the tension in his limbs, unsure what to do with the sudden shift in pace.

Griesla tilted her head slightly, a gesture that seemed to weigh something unspoken before she spoke again. "Follow me," she said, her voice as direct and clipped as ever