Ascension Of The Villain

"Control myself? What do you mean by that?" Vyan responded, sounding slightly offended.

"Look, I will just say it." Iyana exhaled, shaking her head. "I appreciate the thought behind your gesture, but please don't meddle into things that you are not meant for—and I don't mean that for just my case. Just… you know, mind your business. I don't need you to go out of your way for me. It's too much for me."

Vyan was thoroughly confused about what she was saying. She had never seemed to have any issues with these sorts of things. He was too much for her? Since when?

Did she have any idea what she was like? He had only assumed that he was matching her energy. He didn't think he did anything for her that she wouldn't do for him. In fact, she was the type to go even more of an extreme length than him.

Nevertheless, this wasn't the moment to argue. She was hurting, and that hurt twisted something deep inside him. So, he decided to say what she perhaps needed to hear the most at that moment.

"Well, I don't know what to say, Iyana, but if you want, I can be mellow too. I can just... you know, get you some totally normal and average roses from the closest flower shop. I could sit in the audience and watch you win a dull, boring duel, be supportive of that. I can stay in bed when I am sick and, um... just stay there." His words grew more awkward, but he still continued, "I can...

do everything mellow and not risk my life while doing that. Is that okay?"

For some reason, these days, she was far too concerned for his health, or more like, his life in general. Like she was paranoid that he was going to get himself killed.

Iyana sighed, the fight in her fading. "No, that is not... what I mean."

"Then, what do you mean?" he asked, his voice softening. He squeezed her shoulders, as if trying to grasp the words she couldn't seem to say. "Let me understand. I will do my best."

She shook her head, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You can't."

"Give me a chance. Maybe I can," he requested.

A single, helpless tear slid down her cheek, and it broke his heart.

"Please don't cry, Iyana," he murmured, wiping the lone tear with his thumb and pulling her into his chest, "I am sorry. I am so sorry. I won't do anything you don't want me to. Just please don't cry."

For a few seconds, she was still, going limp into his arm, until she embraced him so tightly that he felt she was going to snap him in half. It made him smile because he knew that was her way of scolding him.

However, there was something different. She clutched to him in a way that felt like she was afraid of losing him, as if he would disappear and never return if she let go. He could even feel the slight tremors in her body.

"Hey, what's going on with you?" he asked softly, stroking the back of her head.

"Nothing," she mumbled, her voice small. "I just don't want you to do anything… anything unlawful for my sake."

He groaned playfully. "Fine, fine, I will see to it that Pembrooke doesn't get punished for drug usage."

As he was met with silence in response, he rolled his eyes and added, "And I will not sneak into the imperial grounds to meet you. Especially if I am sick."

Yet, she still remained quiet.

"What? The flowers weren't illegal. What do you want me to say about that?" he grumbled, his voice coming out a little squeaky due to his sore throat still not being fully healed.

At that, she finally let out a laugh and nuzzled her face in his chest. "I hate you."

"Oof, being loved by the Commander of the Imperial Army, now that's going to be a new experience for me."

"I said hate," she looked up, pouting.

"Yes, out loud. But I heard what was in your heart," he teased, and her face lit up with the smile he had longed for—the kind of smile that made his heart skip a beat. It was the warmth he had been aching for since the moment she stepped into the room.

Her hand slid gently up his chest, resting just above his heart, feeling the steady rhythm that had quickened in response to her touch. Her other hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him down to her as she rose onto her tiptoes.

He closed his eyes as her lips found his, and in that moment, everything else melted away. It was a kiss unlike any they had shared before—slow and unhurried. His hands instinctively settled at her waist, pulling her closer in a way to drill it into her that he wasn't going anywhere, that he was going to stay with her even if they had disagreements, fought with each other, or made mistakes.

The kiss was tender, just the pure, quiet exchange of their unspoken love, losing themselves in the connection between them. The kiss deepened but never lost its tenderness, the kind of kiss that left them breathless not from passion, but from the overwhelming flood of love and care it carried.

When they finally pulled back, their foreheads resting against one another, her breath warm against his lips, he whispered with a mischievous smile, "Now that was a kiss I would be willing to drug someone else for."

A soft laugh bubbled out of her, but the glow of the moment lingered, their bodies still close, hearts in imperfect harmony.

———

Vyan sat in the stands, his gaze locked on the grand arena as Iyana ascended the stage. The audience was now filled with people, unlike the start of the duel. The word about the epic battle had spread fast and quick. They all now murmured with awe, their eyes fixed on the young woman who, in just moments, would be honored by Empress Jade herself as Edgar had confined himself in his chambers.

Iyana knelt before the Empress, her head slightly bowed. Jade picked up the ceremonial blade from its resting pillow with both hands, ready to bestow the highest honor—Commander of the Imperial Order of Knights.

The entire arena fell silent as Jade began the blessing, gently tapping the sword on each of Iyana's shoulders in a show of ancient tradition.

From his seat, Vyan's chest swelled with pride, yet a subtle undercurrent of anxiety tugged at his mind. His eyes traced the curve of Iyana's form—her elaborate uniform, the invisible weight of the new responsibilities befalling her shoulders, and yet how calm she seemed. What unnerved him was the fact that those new responsibilities didn't scare her; he did.

He and his actions affected her the most, which was quite the dilemma for him. He didn't know whether to scream at the top of his lungs in happiness or fling himself off the top of the watch tower to rid her of the cause of her miseries.

"You look worried," Clyde's voice cut through his thoughts as he leaned in slightly, watching Vyan. Your adventure continues at m v|l-e'm,p| y r

Vyan didn't take his eyes off Iyana. "I think someone is threatening her. About me."

Clyde chuckled softly, his tone laced with dry humor. "Gee, I wonder who. You have no enemies at all."

Rolling his eyes, Vyan let his gaze drift away from the stage and over the faces scattered across the arena. Nobles, dignitaries, soldiers, and commoners alike filled the space, but his attention snagged on one figure.

A familiar one. His eyes narrowed slightly as recognition dawned.

"Lady Leila?" Vyan murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Clyde's head tilted, following Vyan's line of sight. "Who? Countess Darren? Do you know her personally?"

Vyan nodded. "Yes, she was Iyana's best friend. I haven't seen her ever since I escaped the Estelle estate, and Iyana hasn't mentioned her either. I kind of wanted to greet Lady Leila at the Monster Hunt Festival since she was always nice to me, but I never saw her around."

Clyde shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe she was too busy with her newborn."

"Perhaps," Vyan agreed. "I should congratulate her later though. She always wanted a family more than anything."

"Oof, the polar opposite of Lady Iyana," Clyde remarked.

Vyan chuckled softly. "Yes. But they always understood and respected each other—different goals, same ambition, you know? It's a shame Iyana doesn't remember her friendship with Lady Leila." Just like she didn't remember the two of their past.

Clyde's hand landed lightly on Vyan's shoulder, offering a small measure of comfort. "It is what it is, Vyan. Some things can't be undone."

Vyan hummed in agreement, though its bitterness still lingered in the back of his mind.

The words of the empress filled the arena, drawing his attention back to the stage. Iyana stood tall, her head held high as she recited the solemn vow of a Commander.

Pride and happiness bloomed in his chest. He had no idea it could feel so amazing to see the person he loved the most achieve her life-long dream.

He recalled the times they had stayed up talking all night and she told him about her dreams, of wanting to have something that was only hers—which now made him realize where he went wrong today. So, he silently promised to himself that he would never meddle in these things if she didn't ask him.

In this case, he only ever needed to be her biggest supporter, watching from the sidelines as he was doing right now.

His eyes locked onto hers for a fleeting moment as she scanned the audience. She found him, and for just a heartbeat, the world felt smaller, more intimate.

Vyan grinned at her as he silently hoped she could see just how proud and happy he was—of everything she had become and everything she had fought to achieve.

Iyana's lips curved into a brief, barely-there smile before her focus returned to the ceremony. Vyan's grin only widened. In this moment, all he could feel was how lucky he was to be here and be the only person whom she acknowledged at the peak of her success.