In the dimly lit corridors of Starlight Orphanage, nestled on the outskirts of a forgotten town, was the life Vyan had been accustomed to for as long as he could remember.
No family name, no glittering pedigree to flaunt—just a daily grind painted in various shades of blah.
Even when he lucked into a gig as an apprentice for the reputed House Estelle, it was still the same old snooze-fest. Bland meals, mind-numbing drills, and a front-row seat to his own private horror show each night.
But then, like a slap of colorful paint brush across a black-and-white canvas, along came Iyana Pearl Estelle.
At sixteen, Vyan collided with her world, or more accurately, she bulldozed into his.
"Him," declared Iyana, the troublemaking eldest daughter of the pompous Marquess.
Vyan's head was dutifully bowed, certain that he wasn't the 'him' she had in mind. That was until the collective weight of everyone's gaze forced him to look up.
And there she was, the Ice Queen herself, sporting a pair of cold violet orbs. "I want him," she proclaimed, "as my personal knight."
It seemed like the universe released a sigh, relieved that a violent storm had passed. But poor Vyan, he was swept up in that cyclone like an innocent cattle.
"Excellent choice, my lady! He's a gem of a knight," Chris chimed in, his praise dripping with as much sincerity as a politician's campaign promises.
Vyan couldn't help but roll his eyes internally. Everyone knew the swordmaster usually treated him like a blunt butter knife in a drawer full of Excaliburs.
As Vyan peeked at the girl standing beside the swordmaster, he couldn't help but sarcastically rejoice, oh, the joy of being chosen as Lady Iyana's personal knight!
Nothing screams job security like serving a teenage witch with a hotline to hell, after all.
Word on the streets was that Iyana dabbled in demonic contracts like it was the latest trend for teenagers. And as for her track record with knights? Let's just say the turnover rate rivaled that of the times the emperor changed his concubines.
Twelve brave souls had gone before Vyan, and not one had lasted long enough to hop to the next month. Rumor also had it they were six feet under, courtesy of Lady Iyana's mood swings.
"Hey, you! Step forward and pledge your undying loyalty to Lady Iyana," Chris barked, his tone oozing with all the charm of a snake oil salesman.
Vyan's delightful colleagues, as supportive as always, snickered behind their palms, relieved it wasn't their turn to dance with the devil.
"What is your name?" Iyana asked.
Before Vyan could even muster a syllable, Chris leapt into action, ready to recite the epic saga of Vyan, the Nameless. "My lady, Vyan is a splendid lad! Though, you should know, my lady, he lacks a family name and—"
A flick of Iyana's wrist halted Chris's monologue mid-flow.
"Sir Chris, I do believe I addressed him, not you," she declared, her tone sharper than a sword's edge. "As for his lineage, did you hear me inquire about it?"
"Uhm, no, my lady. My apologies," Chris muttered, retreating like a scolded pup.
Closing the gap between them, Iyana fixed her gaze on Vyan, her eyes boring into his soul.
"So tell me yourself. What is your name?" Her tone might have come as stern and cold, but it carried a hint that it didn't matter to her where he came from, she just wanted to know the name of the man who would follow her around like a shadow.
"Vyan," he replied, and for the first time, he did not feel ashamed for not following through with a surname.
"So, Vyan, do you accept being my knight?"
Everyone behind Vyan gasped in surprise, even Chris. Because this was a question she hadn't asked any of her previous knights.
However, the question wasn't what bothered Vyan. It was the look in her eyes that said if he uttered no, then she would find another knight without a second thought. It meant she was actually giving him a way out, unlike others before him. Therefore, he needed to answer with careful consideration.
It was obvious she would be a master hard to please and serve. He might even end up like those twelve other knights.
But eh, who cares?
Vyan internally shrugged and decided to hitch his wagon to the rumored witch's train.
Life hadn't exactly been a bed of roses for him, so why not roll the dice and see where this wild ride took him? Plus, he figured if he was going to be anyone's loyal lapdog, it might as well be for someone who could conjure demons over their morning tea.
"Yes, of course. It would be an honor, my lady," was his final response.
Just as he prepared to kneel, Iyana stalled him. "There is no need for oaths unless they come from the heart. So, forget the formalities. Just walk with me from now on."
Oh, Iyana probably had her spidey senses tingling, sniffing out Vyan's nonchalance like a bloodhound.
But did that stop him from seizing the moment?
Not a chance.
If sincerity was the dish of the day, then Vyan was going to serve it up with a side of pure gold heart—or at least a shiny penny for a heart.
"No, my lady!" His voice carried a note of determination. "I mean it. I want to swear my allegiance to you."
Despite his laid-back attitude, Vyan truly wanted to vow to be her shield and protector. 'Even a demon needed a guard dog, right?'
As if this time his sincerity reached her ice-cold heart, Iyana's stoic facade melted like ice in the sun, replaced by a genuine smile that seemed to light up his dim world.
"Well, if you insist, Vyan."
Watching her eyes sparkle with a newfound warmth, no longer looking cold or dull, he couldn't help but mirror her warm smile.
And just like that, Vyan signed up his grayscale existence for a drama worthy of a soap opera.
———
At the age of eighteen, Vyan found himself head over heels for the rumored witch.
"I'm joining the imperial army as a lieutenant starting tomorrow," Iyana declared, seated on her desk like a queen surveying her domain.
Vyan nodded, trying to play it cool while his heart sank like a punctured boat. He knew that as soon as she turned sixteen, she would be off serving her dreams. Yet… it sucks.
"Guess that means you understand that I won't need a personal knight anymore," she added.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and let out, "Yes, I get it."
While other knights wilted like week-old flowers in Iyana's presence, he had stuck around like a stubborn stain on her favorite dress for a solid two years.
Besides, why did they all have it out for her anyway? A witch? Puh-lease. She was more likely to charm a bird out of a tree than summon the forces of darkness.
They were definitely just intimidated because she was a woman. After all, she could handle a blade better than Chris at a barbecue cook-off.
Nevertheless, it was a bummer he would not get to play the supportive sidekick anymore, watching her kick butt in training every morning. He used to dread those early wake-up calls, but somewhere along the line, they became the highlight of his day.
Every dawn, he would loiter outside her door like a lovesick puppy, despite her protests that he didn't have to. "Duty calls," he would grumble, even though he secretly was excited.
When did a chore turn into a cherished ritual, anyway? And was it normal to mourn the loss of a former boss? Vyan was asking for a friend, of course.
Because it almost sounded like he was in love—which was ridiculous.
How would he—who was never loved by anyone—know how to love somebody else?
As Iyana rose from her seat, she approached Vyan, clasping his hands in hers. Her touch felt like a balm on Vyan's battered heart.
"I will miss you, Vyan," she murmured, her smile bittersweet. "Let's not let this parting turn us into strangers, okay? We are friends now. Come chat whenever you fancy. I have got your back. Always."
Ah, there it was. The moment of clarity. He didn't want just friendship—he wanted the whole enchilada.
So what if nobody ever taught him how to love? It didn't mean love couldn't be self-taught like all the other things in his life.
But alas, blurting out, 'I am head over heels for you,' didn't seem like the smoothest delivery at the moment.
"Thank you, my lady," he managed, his voice hitching with emotion. "And forgive me."
"For what?" She cocked her head, her eyes searching his.
For being a lovesick fool. For daring to dream beyond my station. For wanting more when I have nothing to offer.
"I just realized I haven't done nearly enough for you compared to what you have done for me," he improvised, a half-truth hiding beneath his words.
"Who says?" Her smile widened, and his heart did a triple axel in his chest. "You have given me more than anyone ever has, Vyan. You have no idea how much you mean to me."
With her words ringing in his ears, Vyan swore once again, oh, my lady, even if my official duty ends today, I will always be your knight in shining armor. This time, for love.
"Would it be too much to ask how much exactly?" he ventured, feeling like a nervous preteen.
A soft chuckle escaped her lips, her gaze unwavering as she replied, "I could lose everyone in this world and barely bat an eye. But if I lost you..." She trailed off, her thumb tracing patterns on his hand. "I would lose my mind."
In that moment, he knew he wasn't alone, that someone out there cared if he vanished into thin air.
And for Vyan, that was worth more than all the riches in the world.
———
At the tender age of nineteen, Vyan found himself in the unexpected role of Iyana's plus-one for the debutante ball.
They were lounging on a bench in her private garden when the topic came up.
"I am not exactly drowning in suitors," Iyana lamented, her pout like that of a sulky princess—a jarring contrast to her stern military persona. "Leila brought up our debutante ball next year, and it has got me stumped."
"Why worry, my lady? Aren't there hordes of men vying for your attention?" Vyan quipped.
A scoff escaped her lips. "Their attention is not enough," she confessed, sneaking a glance in his direction. "I want something... someone else. Somebody I love."
"Do you need me to abduct your dream man then?" he offered half-jokingly, masking his own jealousy behind a facade of nonchalance.
She chuckled, shaking her head. "No, you idiot. Read between the lines. I'm talking about you."
"Oh."
I am somebody she loves… I can't believe it.
His heart did a celebratory dance, banishing his jealous demons to the dark corners of his mind.
"Will you be my date to the debutante ball?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"I would be honored, my lady," he replied, taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss to her palm, earning himself a radiant smile in return.
"Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could just spend our lives together, with no one else intruding?" she mused wistfully.
"Does my lady fancy me that much?" he teased, a playful glint in his eye.
"More than you will ever know," she confessed, her smile as pure as a spring breeze.
Little did Vyan know, behind that innocent smile lurked a web of ugly deceit—a betrayal that would shatter his naive heart into a million jagged pieces.
———
Finally came the age of twenty when Vyan witnessed her despicable true colors and was sentenced to death.
"My lady, why...?" The words tumbled out of his mouth in a broken whisper.