"My lady, why on earth are you still chasing after that lost cause?" questioned Iyana's personal maid, Cassie, with a raised eyebrow with genuine curiosity.
Iyana glanced at her own reflection in the mirror and muttered, "Why indeed…" Her violet eyes seemed to be in a trance.
Meanwhile, Vyan was in a magical pickle, having splurged his mana like it was a Black Friday discount. For sure, he needed to redo Mana Management 101 after this stupid mistake. Now, the only hope was, Clyde would summon him back before he had to resort to hitchhiking with enchanted broomsticks to escape this cursed place.
"Because that idiot has no clue about how things work around the real world. He is practically setting himself up to be kidnapped by human traffickers."
He wasn't paying attention to the ladies' conversation until that certain word snagged his interest.
'Idiot' was what Iyana used to call him sometimes, albeit with a sweeter and more affectionate tone. Surely, this 'idiot' she was talking about wasn't Vyan anymore. Maybe there was a whole parade of 'idiots' in her life all along. She was most likely up to ruin their lives as well now.
"Why bother about that now?" Cassie persisted with a grim undertone.
"You know the reason, Cassie." Iyana let out a chuckle that tasted like regret and sounded like a distant echo of happier times. "Anyway, now help me get out of this thing, will you?"
Vyan did not even try to steal a glance as Cassie assisted Iyana with her military attire. Once upon a time, when his hormones were raging as a teenager, he would have blushed crimson at the mere thought, but now he was as impassive as a statue in a garden of gossip.
Although he did take notice of the absence of her engagement ring—most probably because she had just returned from work.
"So… my lady, what's your final decision about him?" Cassie asked.
"Send out the hounds, Cassie," Iyana declared. "Search every nook and cranny of Haynes, and if need be, the neighboring kingdoms. I want him found, no matter the price tag."
"Copy that, my lady," Cassie conceded. "Oh, my lady, what is your response to His Imperial Highness's demand for an audience?"
"Let's go with the classic 'I'm swamped' excuse," Iyana suggested.
Naturally, you are playing it cool, waiting for him to come groveling at your feet, Vyan mused, rolling his eyes so hard he nearly sprained them. Because let's be real. You are not interested in him; it's his crown you are after. Because who needs love when you can have power?
"Huh? You are not going to meet him?" Cassie asked, surprised, and Iyana nodded. "And what is the reason I should give for you being swamped?"
"Blame it on the Ganlop-Haberland debacle. Easton will understand."
Oh, absolutely, because Prince Easton is just known for being the epitome of empathy and understanding, Vyan thought sarcastically.
"Okay, I will do as you say," Cassie obliged and asked, "By the way, about what the Marquess mentioned—"
"Ugh, don't get me started on Father's orders," Iyana groaned, her voice dripping with exasperation. "I am already bending over backward trying to fulfill his every whim. I can't exactly twist myself into a pretzel, you know."
Iyana shrugged off Cassie's help and began frantically reassembling her uniform. "You know what? Forget the family dinner. I am out. Back to the base I go."
Cassie's eyes widened in panic at Iyana's sudden decision. "No, my lady! You can't bail now. Master Edward specifically requested your presence. My lady! Wait—"
But it was too late; Iyana was already heading towards the door, leaving Cassie to chase after her like a headless chicken.
Just as Iyana was about to make her grand exit, a flicker of movement caught her eye from the balcony.
With a swift tap of her wrist bracelet, a shimmering blue sword materialized in her grip, her gaze narrowing into keen slits like a hawk's. After that, she instantly motioned for Cassie to quiet down.
Even as she approached stealthily without making a single noise, Vyan sensed her presence nearing him and channeled every last ounce of mana to vanish in a blink.
With the balcony door swinging open, Iyana stood poised, prepared to strike down any intruder.
Yet, surprisingly, the space before her remained empty.
She fixated on the spot where Vyan had stood, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Then, a subtle shift in the air caught her attention, prompting a faint smile to grace her lips.
Tilting her head back, a warmth spread across her features.
"My lady?" Cassie's voice broke the moment. "Do you sense something?"
"No," she replied, her smile widening. "I just... This presence feels oddly familiar. Like that of my dear idiot's."
———
"My lord, you are back!" Clyde exclaimed, relief evident in his voice.
Vyan stumbled into the garden, wheezing like he had just run a marathon in flip-flops.
"Did you sprint a marathon while you were out, my lord?" Clyde joked. "I swear, you have got the endurance of a sloth. Here, hydrate yourself." He whipped up some water out of thin air and offered it to Vyan.
"No, I... ended up in the wrong... place..." Vyan mumbled, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His body protested with every movement, and he could not shake the feeling of suffocation.
"Where did you land up?" Clyde inquired, handing over the glass.
But Vyan's attempt to grab it was thwarted by searing pain shooting through his shoulder, his vision blurring with each heartbeat.
"In Cantace..." he managed to rasp, before a violent coughing fit overtook him, splattering the grass with crimson droplets.
Clyde's eyes widened in horror. "My lord, what happened?" He kneeled next to Vyan, panic seizing him as he saw blood staining the ground. "Someone! Get the family physician! Lord Vyan is coughing up a bloody storm!"
Vyan's coughing intensified, the grass beneath him turning into a gruesome painting. "My throat... it's on fire."
"My lord, stay with me!" Clyde pleaded, but his words fell on deaf ears as darkness swallowed Vyan's consciousness.
———
"Doctor Harvey, is he going to be okay?" Clyde's voice trembled with worry, his eyes pleading for a glimmer of hope.
"It's hard to tell," Harvey's tone was grim, his brows furrowed in concern. "He has internal bleeding and is struggling to breathe. Mana exhaustion shouldn't manifest like this."
The room buzzed with anxiety, everyone consumed by dread—except for the sinister duo responsible for Vyan's suffering.
"Well, well, well, looks like the poison's kicking in," Lincoln's voice dripped with dark satisfaction as he leaned in to whisper to his wife.
Clara's facade of concern slipped as she allowed a sassy smirk to dance across her lips while peering over her handkerchief. "Isn't it just the perfect timing?" she replied, her voice laced with wicked amusement.
"I highly doubt it's mana exhaustion," Clyde interjected, his tone sharp with suspicion. "Given his mana capacity, two long-distance teleports wouldn't leave him like this. We need a poison test, Doctor."
Clara's eyes flashed with disdain, muttering under her breath, "My delightful stepson strikes again. I swear you raised a vermin in the disguise of your son."
"Don't fret, he won't find a trace of it in his system," Lincoln reassured, his words chilling in their confidence.
"Dear God, who would dare poison Lord Vyan? He is practically a saint," Clara's gasp was as dramatic as her performance, her tears a cascade of insincere sorrow. "May curses rain down on the wretched soul who dared to harm this orphaned boy."
"Yes," Clyde's voice was like thunder, his gaze a storm brewing as he locked eyes with Clara, who suddenly found herself wishing for an invisibility cloak. "Curse will rain down on those wretched souls. I will make sure of it," he declared, his words carrying the weight of a thousand grudges.
Clara attempted to deflect his attention from her and continued her sobbing charade behind her handkerchief, though her sobs sounded suspiciously like stifled laughter at this point.
"I don't think it's poison, Lord Clyde," Harvey interjected, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I will run a test just to be on the safe side. Everyone else, out of the room!"
As the room emptied, leaving only Clyde, Benedict, and Harvey, Clyde turned his attention to Vyan's loyal servant.
"Benedict, spill the tea. Did you or did you not swap out the chamomile for ceylon?"
Benedict's eyes widened in shock, then he quickly composed himself. "Yes, Lord Clyde. I did as you asked. Master Vyan has been sipping ceylon tea while thinking it's chamomile all this time."
Clyde sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "And to think he has been praising my father's gift all along. If only he knew."
"It's alright, Lord Clyde. You had good intentions," Benedict reassured, patting Clyde's shoulder sympathetically.
"But now he is laid up in bed, suffering," Clyde lamented. "I just can't fathom what's afflicting him if not poison."
Harvey scratched his head, perplexed. "It's a real head-scratcher. His condition is not responding to treatment like it should."
"Perhaps my dear old dad got creative with his methods?" Clyde suggested, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone.
"Wait," Harvey exclaimed, his eyes widening dramatically, "until now, I have been as blind as a bat since I assumed that Lord Magnus poisoned him. What if it is something simple?" he deduced, a light bulb seemingly illuminating above his head.
"What do you mean?" Clyde's confusion deepened, his brow furrowing in bewilderment.
"Let me examine his symptoms again," Harvey said, diving back into his examination of Vyan's prone form with molecular magic. "He did mention his throat was bothering him, right?"
"Yes," Clyde confirmed, his curiosity piqued. "But what does that have to do with anything?"
"Ah-ha!" Benedict exclaimed, his eyes widening in sudden understanding. "It all makes sense now! How did I miss this?"
"Don't worry anymore. He will be back to his old self in no time with the right treatment now," Harvey assured.
"Finally, some good news," Clyde muttered, a mixture of frustration and relief coloring his voice. "But seriously, could someone please clue me in on what the heck is going on?"
Harvey let out an exasperated huff before launching into an explanation of Vyan's ailment.
A sinister smirk crept onto Clyde's face as he listened.
"Well," Clyde chuckled, a devious glint in his eye. "Even though it's not my dear old man's fault this time, I will take full advantage of this golden opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine. Time to rain down curses upon him."