Vyan wrinkled his nose, eyeing the run-down buildings and crowded streets of the slum with disbelief. "Are you sure Freya Adeline works somewhere in this dump?"
Clyde nodded enthusiastically. "Positive. My sources never fail."
"Hard to believe a former palace employee ended up in such a... not-so-charming locale," Vyan muttered, shaking his head. "Guess that is the price you pay for ticking off the bigwigs."
Clyde took the lead, motioning for Vyan to follow closely. "Stay close, and for the love of all things magical, do not go casting spells left and right. This place is dodgy as hell, even on a good day."
"Got it," Vyan replied, suppressing the urge to conjure up a magic carpet just for the sake of disobeying Clyde.
As they navigated deeper into the slum, Vyan couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the sight of the poverty around him. He thought he had it rough growing up, but compared to the people here, he might as well have been sipping coconut water on a beach on the tropical islands.
"We are entering the red-light district now," Clyde whispered, his tone grim.
"A red-light district?" Vyan echoed, the term ringing a bell in his memory. "Oh, right. I think I have heard of those from one of my former colleagues."
Clyde shot him a deadpan look and bluntly responded, "It is basically a neighborhood where sex business flourishes."
"Oh," Vyan replied, trying to appear nonchalant while mentally vowing to sanitize his brain later.
Clyde eyed Vyan cautiously, a hint of concern in his voice. "You do know what sex is, right, my lord?"
"Of course, I do!" Vyan shot back, his cheeks coloring slightly. "I have, uh, extensively researched the subject in literature."
"Ah, flexing your book smarts over real-world experience. Classic move, my lord," Clyde quipped, giving him an exaggerated thumbs-up, as if on the verge of shedding a tear for his master's sheltered existence. "I would suggest we remedy that situation right away, but I would hate to be the reason for your future divorce, in case you get addicted."
"Whoa, hold your horses! Just because we are in this... colorful neighborhood does not mean you can be as vulgar as you want," Vyan retorted, eyebrows raised in mock indignation.
"Fair point, fair point," Clyde conceded, patting Vyan's shoulder dramatically. "My Lord's purity must be protected at all costs. I bet you have not even had your first kiss, have you?"
Vyan opted not to dignify that with a response and instead redirected their attention. "Hey, isn't that the bar where Freya Adeline works?"
"Yep," Clyde replied, snapping back into professional mode. "Let's go see if she is serving up more than just drinks."
As Vyan and Clyde made their way inside, Vyan felt a sudden yank on his elbow, causing him to whirl around in surprise, while Clyde obliviously continued on ahead.
"What the—" Vyan was interrupted.
"What the hell are you doing here?" a sharp, demanding voice cut through the busy air like a guillotine.
Vyan's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "I could ask you the same thing, Iyana," he snapped back, his tone laced with barely contained anger.
"I can be anywhere I want to be," she responded sharply.
He shook off her grip and crossed his arms defiantly, asking, "Last I checked, this is not exactly a hotspot for royalty."
Iyana shrugged, her demeanor surprisingly nonchalant given the circumstances. "I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much. I have already dealt with a few unwanted admirers along the way."
Vyan scoffed, glancing at the few limping men in her wake, and he was pretty sure she was the one responsible for their handicapped condition. "Oh, forgive me for not dealing with the admirers myself and for not rolling out the red carpet in this charming establishment."
But before he could continue, Iyana's tone shifted, her grip was back on his sleeve, this time, tightening with a sudden urgency. "Why are your eyes red?"
Vyan rolled his eyes, his frustration mounting. "So observant, as always. Maybe you would have noticed it the last time we met, if you hadn't been too busy smoking."
Her expression shifted from indifference to concern, and Vyan couldn't help but feel a twinge of confusion.
"Are you cursed or something?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
Vyan snorted, masking his own confusion of her behavior with bravado. "Oh, please. Like I would let some silly curse get the better of me."
But deep down, he could not shake the strange look in her eyes, a flicker of genuine concern that contradicted her usual indifference. It was like she was playing pretend with him once again. Because she had no reason to actually care.
It's impossible, he told himself. Absolutely impossible. She does not give a rat's tail about me.
"Come on, tell me clearly. Are you cursed or not?" she urged.
Vyan forcefully pried her hand off his arm once more, his annoyance visible. "First of all, no, I am not. Secondly, it is none of your damn business even if I was."
Iyana shot him a pointed look, her gaze lingering on his altered eye color with a mix of suspicion and concern. "Fine, as long as you are okay," she relented. "Then, tell me why you are lurking around here. Are you planning to auction yourself off as a last resort?"
"What part of 'it is none of your damn business' do you not get? And no—" Vyan started, but then he paused, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips. Why should he dignify her with an explanation? He owed her nothing. "And what if I am?" he shot back. "What if I do want to auction myself?"
Iyana gritted her teeth. "You are out of your mind. Why would you even consider that?"
"Why not? You think nobody would want a piece of this?" Vyan retorted, his need to appear confident in front of her bordering on cockiness.
"That's not what I meant! It's the complete opposite," she muttered the last part, almost to herself. "Do you have any idea how many people would throw themselves at you if you put yourself out there?"
"I don't know, but I'm willing to find out," Vyan replied with a cheeky grin. "And between you and me, my former boss used to rave about my looks. So unless she was lying through her teeth, I am expecting quite the turnout."
Iyana's eyes flashed with irritation. "You insufferable idiot. You have no idea how terribly sex slaves are treated—"
"Since I have been so generous as to entertain your questions," Vyan interjected smoothly, "how about you tell me why my whereabouts are suddenly so fascinating to you, instead of lecturing me on the downsides of being a sex slave?"
"Because…" Iyana hesitated, her gaze flickering away. "Because I am the former boss you mentioned just now, damn it! It's not exactly great for my image if my ex-knight suddenly becomes the talk of the town as a… a streetwalker."
Vyan rolled his eyes. "Ah, yes, how could I forget? It's always about you, isn't it?"
What did he expect, honestly? A declaration of jealousy? As if. She only cares about her impeccable reputation so that nothing gets in the way of the crown.
With a dismissive gesture, he unfolded his arms and turned away. "Well, newsflash, Iyana, I stopped giving a damn about your precious reputation a long time ago. So excuse me while I go and live my life the way I damn well please." And with that, he stormed off towards the entrance of the bar.
"Vyan!" Iyana's voice echoed after him, but he did not even glance back.
She watched his retreating figure, chewing on her lip in frustration, pondering for a long minute, before gathering her skirts and pushing through the crowd in his pursuit.
Even if he was planning to auction himself off, she would be the one to call dibs on him before anybody else could.
Ignoring the lewd comments from drunken men, she finally caught up to Vyan, only to find him engaged in conversation with a tall, gray-haired man, gesturing towards one of the dancers on stage.
Could it be that Vyan wasn't here to sell himself, but to entertain himself with another woman? The thought turned her stomach in disgust, but then again, he was a man at the end of the day, wasn't he?
In an era where every man was allowed to sleep around and even their wives would not bat an eye, it should come as no surprise if Vyan would too want to enjoy himself.
Even a wife would be okay with him being here. So who was Iyana to mind?
Nevertheless, Iyana's eyes blazed with fury as she watched one of the bar dancers press herself against Vyan's chest.
With her self-control slipping away, she marched forward and forcefully yanked the girl off Vyan.
"Don't you dare lay a finger on my Vyan!" she thundered, her grip tightening on the hair.