Four hours before Kaya's hand-off.
Marquess Estelle was in the living room, his hand tangled in his grayish-blonde hair, on the verge of ripping it out in sheer frustration.
The numbers just wouldn't add up, no matter how many times he crunched them.
He was sinking into debt quicker than a lead balloon in a pond. And to top it off, he had to work in this half-finished living room instead of his office, which was still under construction thanks to that stupid fire accident and a less-than-ambitious budget.
Just as he was about to let out a frustrated scream and call for his son, his butler glided in, announcing, "Master, Lord Clipton is here."
The name jolted Edward to his feet like he had sat on a tack. Marlo Clipton—the man who had saved him from this financial ruin with a timely loan—had arrived at his doorstep. Naturally, he had to pull out all the stops for him!
"Oh, Lord Clipton—" Edward was about to greet him jovially, but he was taken aback by Marlo's disoriented state.
"I need your help, Marquess," Marlo said, dispensing with pleasantries like they were out of fashion.
"Absolutely. I would throw myself in front of a carriage for you," Edward replied with what seemed to be genuine fervor, though he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
"My daughter has been kidnapped, and I need Vice-Commander Iyana's help."
Edward's jaw dropped. "What? Lady Kaya has been kidnapped? How?"
"It is a long story, best saved for after Lady Iyana gets here. Please call her."
Edward motioned to a servant to summon Iyana, who had just returned from the palace a few minutes ago, probably craving a hot bath and not an impromptu rescue mission.
Would she even agree to help in the first place? as that thought crossed Edward's mind, and it made him fall into a dilemma.
While he didn't trust that vermin one bit, he trusted her sense of duty. So she should be willing to help.
Otherwise, Edward wasn't going to hesitate to emotionally blackmail her, just like he has been doing ever since she lost her memories.
"But why just Iyana, Lord Clipton? Wouldn't it make sense to call in reinforcements from the imperial palace?" Edward inquired.
"No. What if the kidnapper has spies in the palace? He would come to know and might harm my daughter. I cannot risk it," Marlo explained, his face grim. "Lady Iyana has to do this alone."
Edward nodded in understanding.
After a few seconds, Iyana descended the stairs, still in her uniform, exuding a serious air of authority that would make even the most stoic statue do a double-take.
"Greetings, Count Clipton," she said, her voice steady and eyes sharp.
Marlo wasted no time, launching into the tale of his daughter's kidnapping, each word laced with desperation.
Iyana listened intently, then raised an arched brow. "I understand everything, but what I do not get is, why are you here asking for help? I mean, surely paying the ransom is pocket change for you, right?"
Hearing her tone edged with sarcasm, Edward hissed under his breath.
Leaning close to her ear, Edward whispered urgently, "Don't question him. We owe him big time. Just do what he asks."
Iyana ignored Edward's plea and kept her gaze locked on Marlo, demanding an answer to her question.
"Lord Clipton, you don't have to answer her if you feel uncomfor—" Edward started to say but was interjected by Marlo.
"No, you are right," Marlo admitted, his voice annoyed as he adjusted his tie. "But I hate the fact that someone is trying to take advantage of me. I do not need you to stop the hand-off, Lady Iyana. I only need you to find out who the bastard is who dared to lay a hand on my precious daughter."
"That's more like it." A sly smile spread across Iyana's face. "Leave it to me, Count Clipton," she said with reassuring confidence. "I will find the coward behind this lowly act."
———
Two hours before the hand-off.
"I will bet a thousand gold coins that Count Clipton ran crying to Marquess Estelle's daughter for help," Freya declared, oozing with confidence.
"Why would he risk his daughter's life to save some gold coins?" Clyde frowned.
"Let it go, Freya," Vyan interfered, lounging in his office chair. "Love has turned Clyde's brain to mush. He used to be sharper than me, and that's saying something. But now? Lover Boy is as sharp as a marble," he sighed theatrically, shaking his head at his aide.
"Remember those days, Clyde? When you actually had common sense?" he questioned, and Clyde shot him a flat look.
"What is your problem? Why have you been on my case recently?" Clyde let out in annoyance.
"Because love, my friend, is such a stupid thing. It makes geniuses into fools. Don't you think the same, Freya?"
Clyde scowled, crossing his arms. "What? Why are you bringing love into this kidnapping equation?"
"Vyan is right. Love is foolish," Freya agreed, grinning as she handed over some papers.
"See, Clyde? This is how you agree with your boss," Vyan pointed out, and Clyde rolled his eyes.
"I can see why Vyan would think love is foolish. What's with you, Freya?" Clyde arched an eyebrow. "Who broke your stone heart, huh?"
"Anyway, let's talk business now," Freya cleared her throat, completely ignoring Clyde.
"Hey!" Clyde protested but was once again neglected.
"Here is the layout of the Valley of Divos," Freya started explaining, "All the routes and manual escapes are marked since you mentioned Clyde won't be using magic. Also, we should plant our own men, just in case Count Clipton tries to outsmart us. There is a festival just outside the village, so a smooth escape should be easy. I have marked it as Location B."
"I knew you could get this ready in a day," Vyan praised, taking the papers with a grin.
"Oh, it was nothing."
"I don't know what I would do without you, Freya. Probably drown in my own incompetence," he chuckled lightly. "I almost feel bad making you do all this when you are only supposed to be handling finance and paperwork. Almost."
"Please, Vyan, don't embarrass me. I love helping you out in any way I can," Freya replied with a sweet smile. "In fact, I feel a little sad now that you are handling the paperwork."
"They were my paperwork, to begin with," Vyan reasoned, his tone dripping with mock indignation.
"Even so—"
"Why don't you take over my work, Freya, since you love it so much?" Clyde chimed in, unable to resist stirring the pot.
"Shut up," Freya retorted, making an annoyed snicker in his direction before turning to Vyan. "By the way, Vyan—"
"Hey, what happened to calling him 'Your Grace' since his official ascension? Didn't you promise that during our first meeting?" Clyde teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Freya's cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink before she grabbed a file and smacked Clyde on the arm. "What's it to you? Vyan said I could still use his name."
"It's nothing to me. Just curious. But why are you getting so defensive?" Clyde rubbed his arm, his expression a mix of mock hurt and amusement.
"Okay, you two, stop bickering like children," Vyan cut in, clearly enjoying the show more than he let on. "Thanks for the help, Freya. You should head to bed now; it's quite late."
"Okay. Goodnight, Vyan," she said, flashing him a smile bright enough to light up the room, followed by an annoyed glare at Clyde.
"Be safe and good luck, Clyde," she mumbled begrudgingly before making her exit.
After she left, Vyan leaned his cheek on his knuckles, skimming through the pages Freya had handed him.
"Did everything go okay with Lyon?" he asked Clyde.
"It went perfectly," Clyde replied with a grin. "We found him exactly where you said he would be."
"Good. Now, brace yourself to meet Iyana," Vyan stated. "My gut says she will be there tonight. She is not an opponent to take lightly."
"Of course, there is no way My Lord would fall for just anybody. Lady Iyana has to be a worthy adversary," Clyde said, rising from his chair with a flourish.
"Lady Iyana?" Vyan scoffed, his voice full of disbelief. "I still don't get why you don't hate her after what she did to me."
Clyde shrugged. "I don't know. I just don't think she is a bad person."
"Really?" Vyan arched a questioning eyebrow. "Don't you think taking her side makes you a terrible friend to me?"
Clyde raised his hands in mock surrender. "Well, excuse me. I just believe I am a good judge of character. I mean, come on, I knew within five minutes of meeting you that I could be more loyal to you than to my own father. Give my instincts a little credit, will you?"
Vyan shook his head, grumbling, "Fine. Trust your instincts over my facts. Just wait till she stabs you in the back."
"It's okay," Clyde laughed lightly. "That won't happen. Anyway, don't worry about the mission. I got this. You get some rest."
Vyan's eyes flicked to the drawer on his desk, then back to Clyde. "No, never mind. I will be coming too."
"You don't need to. I can handle this," Clyde frowned. "Don't you trust me?"
"It's Iyana I don't trust," Vyan replied through gritted teeth.
Clyde contemplated for a moment before nodding. "Alright, fine. But you will keep your distance if a fight breaks out. Remember nothing is more important than your safety," he added with a narrowed look thrown at Vyan.
"Sure, I will do that," Vyan agreed, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk that suggested otherwise.
Once Clyde left the office, Vyan opened the drawer he had been staring at. Inside lay a gleaming silver locket with his name engraved on it.
He had torn off this locket the day he first met Benedict, but he never found the courage to throw it away. This necklace used to haunt his dreams—like a noose around his neck. It still did.
It now served as a burning reminder of how cunning Iyana was and how she shattered his trust.
One day, when he would have taken his revenge, he would burn this necklace himself.
For the moment, he smiled bitterly, thinking, stay here while I go face off against the person who gave me this. No mercy for her if she gets in my way.