Ascension Of The Villain

After returning from the imperial palace, Vyan felt the need to cleanse himself of its suffocating negativity. He quickly sank into a warm soak in the healing water, hoping it would wash away not just the grime, but the prettious air of nobility that clung to him.

Just making small talk with Jade in the hallway had drained his ergy faster than a leaky potion bottle. He had ev ded up promising to share a cup of tea with her during the upcoming monster hunt.

Tea with the she-devil herself! As if he needed another reason to detest this upcoming insufferable evt.

"I need some serious catharsis," he muttered to himself, getting ready in a simple pair of gray bishop shirt and black slacks.

After putting on his high-knee boots, he wrapped a black cloak over his shoulders and made his way to the stable.

As he tered, he spotted Lyon, who was busily cleaning the stable. Lyon's clothes nowadays looked more like a servant's rags than a young noble's attire, which was progress.

The ex-arrogant guy straighted up as if expecting to be struck by lightning—Vyan's lightning, to be precise. It seemed like the daily dose of night tormt had finally tak its effect upon him.

"Relax, I am not in the mood to deal with you," Vyan said with a dismissive wave, his voice curt. "Get Adam out."

Lyon nodded hastily, his eyes wide with relief, and rushed to untie Vyan's favorite horse from the stable.

Without another word, Vyan hopped on his horse and took off, hoping the ride would clear his mind.

"Where are you off to?" came a sudd voice from beside him.

Vyan jolted, pulling Adam's reins sharply, narrowly avoiding a collision. He shot a glare at the horse rider next to him. "What in the world do you want now?"

Unexpectedly, it was Iyana. She had be riding inside the horse ara and couldn't resist her curiosity wh she saw Vyan heading toward the main gate.

"I was wondering where you were going with such urgcy just after returning from the imperial palace," she said honestly.

He was about to retort with a snarky commt, but her earnest eyes made him sigh. "I am just going to visit a pastry shop."

"A pastry shop?" She looked guinely surprised. "That's one of the last places I expected you to go. Why?"

He looked away, his ears turning a shade of red. "I want to get something chocolatey."

She raised an eyebrow. "Can't you get them at home? I am pretty sure you have a professional patisserie."

"Yes, but Bedict has put restrictions on how much I can have," Vyan grumbled. "Appartly, chocolate isn't part of a 'balanced diet'."

Iyana chuckled. "Should I accompany you?"

"Why would you? You ev hate the smell of chocolate," he pointed out.

"I can bear it," she assured him. "Besides, don't you think you shouldn't be heading out all on your own, being so defseless?"

"I would have tak Clyde, but for some reason, he has be buried under his duvet, muttering weird words to himself."

"Are you sure he is not just making up curse spells under that duvet?" she asked, sweat-dropping.

"Might be," he shrugged. "Anyway, stop wasting my time. If you want to come, be my guest."

"Okay!" she chirped and followed him.

As they rode into the bustling heart of Ashstone, Vyan led them through a labyrinth of alleyways that made Iyana wonder if he was secretly trying to lose her.

"Are we on a scic tour of the city's dumpsters, or do you actually know where you're going?" she muttered under her breath.

Finally, they stopped in front of an old, charming pastry shop that looked like it had be plucked straight out of a fairy tale. It all made sse now why Vyan wasn't dressed like he was about to walk a red carpet.

Without a word, he marched inside and headed straight for the display counter. To Iyana's shock, his usual grumpy, soulless demeanor vanished, replaced by a face so bright and sparkly it could rival a kid on a festive morning.

It was the first time Iyana had se him like this.

"Good eving, sir. It has be a while since you have be by. The usual?" asked the young boy behind the counter with a warm smile.

Vyan nodded and turned to Iyana. "What do you want?"

Iyana examined the displays, her eyes landing on a decadt dessert. "One strawberry mousse."

The counter boy leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, "Who is the pretty lady, sir?"

"A guard," Vyan replied curtly.

"Really?" The boy's eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Yes, really. Now, can we get our orders?" Vyan asked, his smile so tight it looked like it might snap off his face.

"On it!" The boy chirped, dashing off to fetch their treats.

"Iyana, let's sit over there," Vyan called out, pointing to a secluded corner table. Iyana followed, curiosity piqued.

"Looks like you come here oft," she commted, trying to spark a conversation. Vyan nodded.

"Do you always bring Clyde along?" she asked.

"No, he just tags along occasionally," Vyan replied, barely glancing up.

"So, no one else ever gets the honor?" she teased.

"This is my sanctuary. Why would I invite the masses?" he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Th why bring me?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Don't you recall? You kind of invited yourself," he remarked.

She chuckled. "True, but you didn't exactly put up a fight, did you?"

"I wasn't in the mood for drama," he said with a shrug.

"Why? Did something happ at the imperial palace?" she probed.

"Nothing worth mtioning," he said briefly, ding the line of questioning.

The counter boy arrived with their orders, and Iyana's eyes nearly popped out of her head.

"I can see why Bedict restricts your sugar intake," she said, blinking at the sev decadt chocolate desserts before them.

"Shush, you are forbidd from revealing this place to Bedict," Vyan scolded, though a grin betrayed his excitemt.

Iyana was ready to continue her playful scolding but paused, seeing his sheer joy. She sighed, taking a bite of her strawberry mousse, and couldn't help but smile at his unadulterated happiness.

Because he always wore his seriousness like a tailored suit, witnessing this unguarded momt was like catching a unicorn at a poker table—utterly surprising yet strangely fitting. Ev someone as stoic as Vyan had his guilty pleasures.

By the time they polished off their meal, Vyan practically glowed like he had discovered a secret stash of chanted chocolates.

"Is chocolate your magic potion for happiness?" Iyana teased as they strolled towards their horses.

"It's not just happiness," Vyan replied with unexpected candor. "It's my shield against the world's chaos."

"You must have a lot on your mind th," she remarked, guinely curious.

"Enough to fill a library," he admitted with a nod.

"But now one less worry," he added cryptically, meeting her gaze. "I will wait until your memories return."

Iyana ssed the weight behind his words—the ceasefire in their silt battle. She had no clue what plans he harbored, but at least they were on hold until her memory sorted itself out.

"What if they never come back?" she blurted out, nerves tingling.

"Let's not unwrap that gift just yet," Vyan deflected smoothly, mounting his horse. "We will cross that bridge if we ever find it."

As he settled into the saddle, Iyana couldn't resist. "What's behind this sudd change of heart?"

Vyan gtly stroked his horse's mane, a wry smile playing on his lips. "I had a revelation today. Someone wise reminded me not to rush into decisions I might regret later. And since your situation perplexes me, it's safer to sit on my hands than to gamble and lose."

A soft laugh escaped Iyana. "Quite the chatterbox today, Your Grace."

"I suppose I am," Vyan smirked, his eyes twinkling. "By the way, you can drop the formalities. Just call me Vyan."

Iyana hesitated and asked, "Are you sure?"

"Well, it's up to you. I am not going to force you," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Okay," she agreed, swinging onto her own horse.

Their ride back to the manor was peaceful, the late spring breeze a refreshing caress against their journey-worn faces. Vyan's demeanor was unusually light, the weight of the day seemingly lifted from his shoulders.

Upon returning to his office, he sank into his chair with a contted sigh. "Ah, finally some peace," he muttered, straighting up to tackle the tasks awaiting him.

His gaze fell upon a stack of letters, and one, in particular, caught his eye—a pink velope adorned with intricate designs. "Interesting choice of stationery," he remarked to himself with a raised eyebrow.

Oping it, his amusemt quickly turned to bewildermt.

"Dear Your Grace,

I hope this letter finds you well. My apologies for the delay of your reply; it seems my maid has a knack for perfecting the art of procrastination.

Thank you for your unexpected interest in me. It came as a pleasant surprise to receive your outreach. To be honest, I have admired you since the celebration soirée. But I had be too shy to approach you myself. But I guess, it turns out I had no reason to.

Whever you find a free momt, I would be delighted to meet. I understand your schedule is packed, so I will be fine with any time you wish for.

Best regards,

Ava Octavia Ry."

Vyan stared at the letter in disbelief. "Wh did I show interest in Lady Ava? And wait, this is a reply letter? Wh did I sd her a letter, to begin with?" His mind raced until he arrived at a single conclusion.

Crumpling the letter in frustration, he fumed under his breath, "Clyde Jayce Magnus!"

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