In the heart of the bustling capital, the Itroy market was alive with a cacophony of voices. The streets were packed with so many people that identifying a specific someone was like finding a needle in a haystack.
Vyan and Clyde wove through the crowd, dressed in the most nondescript outfits they could muster to blend in with the masses.
Clyde's laser-focused glare eventually became too much for Vyan, who finally snapped.
"Will you quit giving me that look?" he huffed, exasperated.
"If only you would tell me where you disappeared to last night," Clyde shot back, his tone suspicious.
"I was in my bed, where I was supposed to be," Vyan lied smoothly, not even flinching.
"Benedict checked on you, and you were not there," Clyde countered, crossing his arms.
"I must have gone to the bathroom. What's the big deal?" Vyan shrugged nonchalantly, though he knew Clyde wasn't buying it.
Clyde likely suspected Vyan had gone to swap the hair locks from Iyana but was holding back, probably saving the lecture for later.
"How are we supposed to find Princess Althea in this chaos?" Vyan tried to steer the conversation to safer waters.
"I would recognize her anywhere. My heart will guide me," Clyde proclaimed, closing his eyes as if communing with some mystical force.
"That's quite the delusion," Vyan quipped, rolling his eyes.
"There she is!" Clyde shouted suddenly, pointing at a modestly dressed girl wearing a hat.
Vyan blinked, then blinked again several times, completely flabbergasted. "How did you manage that?"
Clyde grinned triumphantly. "I told you, I can sense her."
"Great, good to know, you are a human divining rod for princesses," Vyan muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.
Resignedly, Vyan followed Clyde's lead, but their short journey was abruptly interrupted by a sudden, high-pitched scream.
"Everybody, out of the way! An angry bull is loose!" someone bellowed.
Before Vyan could even process the chaos, he was swept up by the panicked crowd like a leaf in a tornado.
"Stop pushing! Let me through!" he shouted, but it was like trying to reason with a stampede of toddlers.
When he finally managed to extract himself from the human tidal wave, he found himself in an unfamiliar part of the market. His hair was sticking up at odd angles and his dignity somewhere back in the crowd.
Clyde, of course, was nowhere in sight.
"Great," he muttered to himself, surveying the strange surroundings. "Now what?"
———
Clyde's heart threatened to leap out of his chest with each step he took toward Althea, who was deeply engrossed in examining jewelry at a nearby stall.
"Vyan, is my hair all right?" Clyde inquired eagerly, his grin as wide as a mile. "Come on, tell me. Is my hair looking dashing, or did the wind earlier turn it into a bird's nest?"
Receiving no response, he furrowed his brow and glanced to his right, only to find Vyan conspicuously absent.
"Where did he go?" Clyde muttered, whipping his head around frantically.
Unbeknownst to him, Vyan had been unceremoniously swept away by the crowd while Clyde was busy mentally composing sonnets for his crush.
A realization dawned on him.
"Wait a minute," he mused, a hopeful smile forming on his lips. "Is Vyan intentionally giving me the chance to talk to the princess alone? How considerate! When did he get so clever? He is really growing up."
He dramatically brushed under his eyes, as if wiping away a tear. "I won't scold you for disappearing last night anymore, buddy," he whispered to the ether, his voice choked with emotion.
"Right, time to shine," he said, straightening his posture and heading toward Althea, his hair hopefully still looking fabulous.
Blissfully unaware of his boss's predicament, Clyde skipped over to Althea. "Good afternoon, Your Imperial Highness! How have you been?"
Without looking up at him, Althea's fingers danced over the shimmering ornaments. "Where is His Grace?"
"Beats me," Clyde shrugged. "Probably got swept away by the crowd. Happens to the best of us."
Althea's head snapped up, eyes wide. "What? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, looking for him?"
"He is a big boy. He will manage," Clyde said, waving a dismissive hand and turning his attention to the sparkling array of jewelry. "So, what caught your fancy today?"
"Just browsing," Althea replied, her voice trailing off as her gaze wandered.
Clyde picked up a pair of red earrings and held them up to her ear, squinting as if sizing up a masterpiece. "You were eyeing these earlier. They scream 'fitted for a princess'! You should totally get them."
"I wasn't looking for myself. My sister loves red," Althea explained with a faint smile. "But I doubt she would accept them."
Clyde recalled what she told him the last time they met and grinned. "If you are on the fence about a gift, it's a sign you should definitely get it! Better to get something shiny than nothing at all."
Althea sighed, a touch of sadness coloring her tone. "You wouldn't get it."
Clyde chuckled, the hollow sound tinged with a hint of old hurt. "Oh, you would be surprised. Nobody knows the struggle of winning over a sibling better than me."
Althea looked at him, curiosity piqued.
Clyde met her gaze. "Trust me, it's the thought that counts. If you are genuine, they will see it eventually."
"Really?" Althea's light green eyes sparkled with a flicker of hope. "Did your sibling come around?"
"Nope," Clyde replied, his smile intact. "But that hasn't stopped me. Not then, not now."
Althea felt a warmth spread through her at his words.
"I know that I might be fighting a losing battle, but giving up isn't my style. And I bet you are just as stubborn," Clyde remarked, grinning.
Althea nodded, a genuine smile lighting up her face. She turned to the shopkeeper. "I will take the earrings, please."
Clyde watched her with admiration, his grin softening into something more sincere.
"So, what's your favorite color?" Clyde blurted out, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
"Huh? Why?" Althea blinked, caught off guard.
"I mean, we are at the biggest marketplace of Cantace, you should treat yourself too," Clyde said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Althea cleared her throat, regaining her composure, "I am here to discuss important matters with His Grace, Lord Magnus, not for a shopping spree."
"Well, since His Grace is playing hide-and-seek, why don't we make the most of our time and take a stroll?" Clyde suggested.
Althea raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Are we that close?"
"We could be, if you let it happen," Clyde replied with a playful glint in his eye.
Althea pretended to ponder, tapping her chin dramatically. "I will consider it."
Clyde nudged her arm, his smile infectious. "Come on, I am a good guy. You can trust me."
"Every bad guy says that," Althea rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile.
"I really am, though," Clyde insisted. "Ask around if you want."
"I don't want people thinking I am your admirer, but I will keep it in mind," she conceded with a suppressed smile.
Clyde shook his head, chuckling. "Fine, okay. But let's still do a bit of shopping before we track down His Grace. Who knows? Maybe we will find something you like too."
"Fine, but only because you seem so desperate for company," Althea teased, as they began to stroll through the market, the air filled with the scent of spices and the sound of cheerful chatter.
———
"That's a nice earpiece," Vyan complimented, eyeing the burgundy single earpiece on display.
"It would look strikingly handsome on you, sir," the shopkeeper chimed in with all the enthusiasm of someone who would say the same about a potato if it meant a sale. "You should definitely try it."
"Oh, can I?" Vyan asked, practically bouncing with glee.
The shopkeeper's nod was all he needed to dive in.
Typically, Vyan sported his special silver earpiece for grand duke duties—because nothing says 'serious leadership' like a well-accessorized ear. But lately, he had developed a little obsession with single-ear ornaments for casual wear. Gotta keep that piercing occupied, after all.
He slipped on the earpiece and checked himself out in the mirror, only for his excitement to nosedive faster than a pigeon spotting breadcrumbs.
The earpiece was not just unappealing—it was downright tacky.
"I knew you were a terrible person, but wow, you even have a matching terrible taste," came a voice dripping with sarcasm from behind him.
Startled, Vyan spun around to find Iyana standing there, smirking subtly.
His face twisted in annoyance. "What are you doing here?"
Ignoring his question, Iyana sauntered over to inspect some jewelry, her expression thoughtful. She picked up another earpiece of the same color with a different design. "This would suit you better."
Vyan scoffed, trying to look like he couldn't care less, "I don't care for those." Even if it does look annoyingly pretty. "What are you really doing here?"
"It's a public market, Your Grace. I can be wherever I please," Iyana replied with a nonchalant shrug. "Unless the Ashstone family owns it now."
Vyan clenched his fists, fighting to keep his temper in check. "Just because it's a public market does not mean I need your unsolicited opinions on my choice of jewelry. Keep your thoughts to yourself."
With that, he turned to the shopkeeper, practically growling, "Pack the item I chose."
"You will regret that," Iyana warned with a knowing smirk.
"I doubt I will regret anything more than meeting you," Vyan retorted, rolling his eyes.
"At least we can agree on something," she shot back.
As Vyan completed his payment and prepared to leave with his questionable purchase, he made the mistake of brushing against Iyana's shoulder. Desperate to avoid touching her, he awkwardly collided with a nearby display doll.
Just as he was about to curse his luck, a searing pain shot through his chest, leaving him gasping for breath.
His legs buckled, and he dropped to his knees, clutching his chest in sheer agony. The world around him blurred, voices blending into a chaotic hum—eerily reminiscent of the day Iyana had used black magic to force him into attacking Prince Izac.
When his vision cleared slightly, he found Iyana kneeling before him, her face unusually concerned.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her hand reaching for his shoulder.
Vyan recoiled, pushing her hand away with all the strength he could muster. "Stay away from me!" he shouted, his voice strained.
Her demeanor hardened, her expression turning cold and apathetic. "I was only trying to help you as a dutiful milita—"
"I don't need your help. Not now, not ever," he interrupted, rising to his feet and taking a deep breath.
The air around him felt heavy and tainted with an ominous power—a telltale sign of black magic. It was definitely coming from Iyana!
Dark magicians were the absolute worst—soulless and devoid of any positive emotions. They always wanted to drain others of their positivity, pretending to be allies just to leech off them. Contact with them was like being plugged into a negativity siphon.
"You disgust me," he spat, glaring at her with pure venom.
Iyana's gaze sharpened, her anger barely contained.
"Sister, don't listen to him," Sienna interjected, suddenly appearing beside Iyana.
Vyan hadn't noticed her until now, which meant Iyana had come here shopping with her sister. Of course, they reconciled now that she was done using him.
Without another word, Vyan turned and strode away, leaving Iyana and Sienna behind.
He had no desire to hear Iyana's rebuttal, his mind consumed with the dark energy that surrounded them. The sooner he put distance between himself and that source of negativity—Iyana—the better.
But wait…
Was it really a display doll he collided with after brushing with Iyana? Or was it something—no, more like somebody else?