As the flames licked at the pristine curtains of Marquess Estelle's abode last night, it was not just the house that burned—rumors were ablaze too!
"Did you hear about Marquess Estelle's latest redecorating scheme? It's called 'Flame-tastic Decor'!"
"Haha, and here I thought the only thing flaming in his house was his temper!"
"The infamous candlestick culprit strikes again. Who is going to make people understand that candles near windows are hazardous?"
"Maybe he was just trying to set the mood for a romantic evening and things got a little too hot to handle!"
"His Imperial Majesty must be wondering if he should start issuing fire safety diplomas along with noble titles."
"More importantly, His Imperial Majesty must be furious at his to-be in-laws for not attending such an important ball."
"At urgent calls like this, the magical portals are such a lifesaver!"
"And yet, the marquess and his family couldn't make it. What a shame."
As the nobles gathered for the banquet and gossiped around, Vyan found himself in the eye of the flattery storm.
With more nobles circling him than there were flames at the Estelle Manor, he juggled conversations like a professional acrobat.
After all, making connections at a party was a bit like playing a game of noble bingo—you never knew whose name you would cross off next.
And while Vyan played the charming host, his mind was a maze of suspicion. Who among these powdered and perfumed elites had a hand in his family's demise? He knew he had to keep playing with a smile plastered on his face in order to wade through their sea of dirty secrets.
After all, in this empire, you could not trust a nobleman further than you could throw their family crest.
"Your Grace, congratulations on your ascension!" exclaimed the booming voice of the second prince.
Izac joined the crowd, while Vyan took a casual sip of his wine, bracing himself for whatever verbal gymnastics were about to come.
"Wow, you have such precise elegant manners for someone who did not grow up in nobility," Izac blurted out, his lack of tact hanging in the air like a bad smell for everyone.
Vyan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Why, thank you," he replied, because what else could he say to that?
Vyan half-expected Izac to suddenly remember their past and start accusing Vyan of assaulting him. It would have been a glorious train wreck of a conversation, but he was fully prepared for it.
However, alas, it seemed Izac either pretended not to recognize him or just had the memory of a forgetful goldfish. Something in Vyan's gut told him that it was the latter.
"So tell me, what was it like growing up like that? Did you, like, grow up in slums? Did you get proper food? If you didn't, that must have been so hard," Izac chattered, "You see, I am very emphatic towards the underprivileged. So I completely get what you went through. My heart cries for our beloved peasants—err, subjects."
Sure, you understand, Vyan thought bitterly, Because nothing says 'I love the peasantry' like hoarding gold in your everyday outfit while they starve.
"If you had come seeking help from me, I would have surely extended a hand of help and donated a large sum of gold coins for you…" Izac prattled on, Vyan fought the urge to call him out for the privileged, obnoxious brat he was.
Here I thought Clyde talks too much. Seriously, how much does this imbecile talk? I need to get away before I end up assaulting him. Without the influence of black magic, at that!
"Excuse me, please. I think His Imperial Majesty had asked me to come see him," Vyan interjected, making a beeline for the nearest exit without waiting for Izac's reply.
Smooth or not, he just needed to get away from the vortex of idiocy that was Izac.
After all, there was only so much snobbery one man could endure before needing to throw some punches.
Manipulating Izac into taking my side? No, thanks! I would rather cozy up to a dung beetle for political favors than rely on the likes of Izac.
And to think I got a death sentence because of assaulting that bumbling idiot? How utterly disgraceful.
He should have been given an award instead, for trying to do a favor to the world!
As he was randomly strolling around while seething, a voice cut through the noise around him, calling out, "Your Grace."
Vyan turned to see a sandy-haired man in regal attire approaching, a glass of wine in hand. "Congratulations on your ascension."
Vyan plastered on his best fake smile. "Thank you, Your Imperial Highness," he replied amicably, mentally adding another tally to his ever-growing list of people he would rather not have to deal with.
Even in this moment of forced civility, Vyan couldn't shake the bitterness that simmered beneath the surface.
He would have been genuinely happy for Easton and Iyana's engagement once he had the time to process his feelings back then, but Iyana had chosen to get him framed and get rid of him. What for?
To secure her own place on the throne at any cost—by Easton's side.
Then again, Iyana was always going to betray Vyan sooner or later. But it didn't help to know that she finally did it in order to impress the crown prince.
"My father has been singing your praises non-stop ever since yesterday. Apparently, you are like the son he never had," Easton said, more like expressing condolences, "I hope he didn't keep you too occupied, as I'm sure you're busy with many things at the moment."
"It was alright. You see, I grew up without a father, so it was nice spending time with him," Vyan responded with a friendly smile.
"I am sorry to hear that." Easton's expression became one of those pitiful looks—ones that Vyan hated. "But speaking of growing up, you were raised at Starlight Orphanage in a village in Ditrole, right?"
So, at least someone did his homework. He is smart and cautious like the rumors say, Vyan thought, a little delighted.
"That's right."
"After that, you came to the capital to become a knight at House Estelle, if I am correct. I also heard you were Lady Iyana's personal escort," Easton stated, a little thoughtfully.
"Yes, she is now your fiancée, isn't she? I am happy for my former liege, who is blessed with a life partner like you." His tongue almost scalded from such a blatant lie.
Is he going to bring up the reason I was fired? Does he know about 'me' assaulting that moron? Vyan wondered, already preparing a good enough answer.
"Yes. About your former liege…" Easton licked his bottom lip and asked reluctantly, "Can we talk on the side?"
Shit, did he hear anything about me liking her? This won't be good for me, no matter what excuses I give, Vyan thought, slightly tensed.
However, he kept a neutral expression on his face and said, "Of course."
Once Easton brought Vyan out of earshot of everybody else, the question he asked was definitely not what Vyan was expecting.
"Do you know of Iyana's lover?"
"Pardon?" Vyan wasn't sure if he heard him right.
"Her lover," Easton repeated. "Back when you were working for her, was there someone she was especially fond of? Like a nobleman she would often go to meet or who came to meet her?"
"Why do you ask that?" Vyan furrowed his brows.
"I am just curious." The memory of Iyana coming out of the red-light district and breaking down into tears; Easton hadn't been able to stop thinking about who that important man of hers was ever since then.
On the other hand, an evil idea crossed Vyan's mind.
"I apologize, Your Imperial Highness, but it would be against my code of honor for a knight to talk about the secrets of my liege, former or not."
"Oh," Easton was disappointed, but he quickly hid it well, "I understand. It was not right of me to ask, to begin with. I offer you my sincerest apologies, Your Grace."
"It's alright. But you shouldn't be too disappointed by what you heard from others. Everyone has a few lovers before marriage."
"Few lovers?" Easton's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.
"I am not saying that Lady Iyana did. I am just saying what is common these days."
"I see," Easton mumbled like a withered flower.
"Don't be too disheartened, Your Imperial Highness." While Vyan was wearing a sympathetic smile on the outside, he was cackling like a villain inside who just tied the damsel to the train tracks.
He did not directly slander Iyana, but he planted seeds of doubt in Easton's mind. If Iyana had no lover, then why would her former knight say such things? It must be because she had someone in her life—more than one—that he couldn't spill the beans about.
See, Iyana? You wanted to get rid of me to portray your 'pure' self to Prince Easton. So look, what I am doing to your reputation in his eyes.
Yes, it was a morally dubious move, even for Vyan's standards.
But then again, he had tossed his morals out the window the day Iyana tossed him out of her life.
Not to mention, one of his primary goals was to torpedo their engagement, anyway. If Easton was serving up a platter of golden opportunity to sink that ship, why should Vyan let it sail by?
His brain cheered him on, waving pom poms and chanting, 'Go, Vyan, go!'
And yet... his pesky heart churned with guilt.
"Um, actually, Your Imperial Highness!" Vyan called out before Easton could ride off into the sunset of ignorance.
"Yes?"
"I was joking just now. Lady Iyana had no lover," he blurted out, unable to resist the urge to fix what he had tainted, "Not that I knew of, at least."
Easton blinked in surprise. "Oh? Well… you surely make mean jokes, Your Grace," he mused.
"I couldn't resist the urge to tease you. My bad!" Vyan let out a fake laughter, while his brain cursed him for such a stupid move.
Easton's stoic facade cracked as he offered a grateful smile to Vyan. "Even if you twisted my heart for a minute there, thank you for letting me know the truth in the end, Your Grace."
With a genuine smile, Easton bid Vyan farewell and sauntered off, leaving Vyan alone with his thoughts.
Vyan groaned, wanting to bang his head on the wall.
Maybe, just maybe, he had not completely sold his soul to the devil.
Yet, despite the temporary vacation from his conscience, Vyan couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at his conscience.
Abandoning morals was one thing, but going against his principles was another entirely, and one of his principles happened to be: Always protect the honor of a lady, especially in her absence.
Who built these principles in him, anyway? So annoying! These principles were stopping him from being pure evil!
Nevertheless… despite his descent into villainy, there were some lines his conscience refused to cross—lines that separated him from being a villain to being outright trash.
"I am cruel. I will be inhumane," he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath to steady his self-identity. "But I will never be a trash."