Vyan stared at Iyana for a moment before rolling his eyes dramatically.
"Do you even have to ask? Isn't it obvious I saved you so you wouldn't go crying to His Majesty about how I supposedly tried to assassinate you?"
Iyana scoffed, then smirked. "Maybe, I still will."
"Talk about gratitude," Vyan retorted. He walked over to the wall where the door had vanished. "So, any bright ideas on how to get out of here unless you have the intention of growing old in here?"
"Shouldn't you know? This place reeks of your old haunt," Iyana pointed out.
"If only I could recall my childhood, I wouldn't be having an existential crisis every other week," he muttered.
"You don't remember your childhood?" she asked, a little surprised.
He paused for a moment before shaking his head.
I understand what it's like to be without memories, she thought to herself, but kept silent.
In order to get rid of the sudden awkward silence, Vyan banged on the wall with his fist, hoping the door would magically reappear like it had vanished.
"Maybe we should just sit down and wait," Iyana suggested. "I am sure someone will come looking for us."
"Let's hope we aren't skeletons by the time someone comes to our rescue."
"Keep your doom-and-gloom to yourself." She plopped on the couch and made herself comfortable, while he started pacing around. "Aren't you sitting?"
"No."
"Well, suit yourself," she said with a shrug, sinking deeper into the couch.
Iyana was ready to stay relaxed, prepared to let the seconds turn into minutes, minutes turn into hours, and hours turn into—
Clip-clop, clip-clop.
Vyan's footsteps echoed through the quiet room like a relentless metronome from hell.
Clip-clop.
Each step sounded like a tiny hammer pounding on Iyana's last nerve. She tried to focus on her breathing. Clip-clop. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Clip-clop.
Nope, it wasn't working. Clip-clop.
"Will you please stop with the incessant clopping?!" Iyana finally exploded, her composure shattering like a glass dropped from the heavens.
Vyan paused mid-step, one foot hovering comically in the air. "Clopping?" he repeated, furrowing an eyebrow. "Do I look like a horse to you?"
"You sound like one!" she snapped back, her irritation boiling over. "Or a very annoying clock. Either way, you are marching me into madness!"
Vyan smirked, planting his foot down with exaggerated slowness. "Maybe you just need to relax more," he said, deliberately dragging out his words as he resumed his pacing with even more noise.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
Without wasting another second, she shot up from the couch and marched over to the wall where the door existed.
Vyan raised an eyebrow and asked, "What are you doing?"
She tapped on her bracelet, and her sword materialized in her hand.
Vyan's eyes widened. "You had that the entire time and were just doodling with your fingers until now?"
"Well, I was being considerate."
"Considerate?" he exclaimed.
"By not wrecking your charming little abode." With that, she slashed her sword across the wall, ripping it apart.
"Oh, fantastic. Just what I needed. Renovations," Vyan muttered, not even trying to hide his displeasure. "Oh, well, I would rather deal with renovations than spend another second in here with you."
"The feeling is mutual, Your Grace," she let out, puffing her cheeks.
"Anyway, I am off to do something actually productive. You do whatever you want, just leave me out of it!" With a dismissive wave, he sauntered away, leaving her to her demolition.
Once he was away from her, his steps faltered, each one growing heavier.
With a hesitant look, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small portrait. It had fallen over when the shelf toppled, but now, in the stillness, it demanded his attention.
He stared passively at the picture of himself hugging his older brother. His voice barely a whisper, he muttered, "You really shouldn't have protected me that night, Ash… I might have been better off lying in the grave beside you."
His lips trembled, eyes stinging with unshed tears. He bit down hard, trying to stifle the sob that threatened to escape, and forced himself to keep moving.
The more he discovered about his family, the more hollow he felt; an emptiness that gnawed at his soul.
Every revelation was a knife twisting in the wound, a reminder of how much he had lost. The grief was like a relentless tidal wave that threatened to drown him.
But with the grief came a burning desire for revenge.
He would never get his family back, but he could ensure that those who took them from him would pay. The thought of their suffering was a bitter comfort. It was a way to fill the void with something other than pain.
As he walked, his resolve hardened. He might never find peace, but he would find justice—or at least a semblance of it.
And in the end, he could only hope, maybe that would be enough.
———
Two days later, in the afternoon, Vyan was drowning in paperwork when Clyde strolled in.
Without looking up, Vyan inquired, "How was the camping location? All sunshine and rainbows?"
"Sure, if by sunshine and rainbows you mean 'absolutely dreadful,'" Clyde replied.
Vyan finally looked up from his papers, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean by—"
Before he could finish, Iyana burst into the office like a whirlwind of glitter and chaos.
"Hello, Your Grace! What are you up to? I am bored," she chirped with the enthusiasm of a teenage girl going on a shopping spree.
Vyan clenched his fist, barely resisting the urge to facepalm. "This is not a recreation center where you can drop by for kicks!"
She had been popping in and out for the past two days, like an overzealous poltergeist, sometimes even forgetting to knock.
"What else am I supposed to do? You won't show me around Ashstone. I am left to wither away in my room," Iyana pouted, flopping into the chair across from Vyan as if it were her designated throne.
"I told you, any of my knights can show you around—"
"And I told you, I only tour with the VIP package, meaning you," she interrupted with a stubborn demand.
Vyan gritted his teeth so hard he could have crushed diamonds. He turned his face away, trying to muster the last shreds of his patience.
Satisfied with her ability to push Vyan's buttons, Iyana turned to Clyde. "Clyde, please continue what you were saying—"
"Wait, since when do you call him by his first name?" Vyan snapped his head back around so fast it was a wonder he didn't give himself whiplash.
"We had dinner together the other night, which I hope you remember you adamantly refuse to do with me, and we bonded. Right, Clyde?" Iyana's chirpiness was almost tangible.
"Yes, of course, my lady," Clyde grinned, looking as if he enjoyed every bit of this drama, while Vyan stared at them both, completely flabbergasted.
"Anyway, what were you two gossiping about?" Iyana asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Don't tell her—" Vyan tried to interject, but Clyde waved him off casually.
"Relax, Vyan. It's nothing top-secret. She is here to help with the monster-hunt festival, after all," Clyde reasoned, leaving Vyan with no solid counterargument.
"Whatever."
But seriously, why is Clyde so chummy with her? And why am I so annoyed by this? Probably because Clyde has a tendency to overshare. I need to make sure to keep these two separated, Vyan thought, reasoning to himself.
"So, as I was saying, I was giving Vyan my report on the camping location Ashstones used for the nobles. It's a festival tradition for everyone to stay in luxurious camps and enjoy nature and wildlife."
"Sounds exciting," Iyana commented, her excitement genuine.
"I know, right? Isn't it a refreshing change after being cooped up in estates all the time?"
"It absolutely is! I love the wildlife too."
"Yes! Also—"
"If you two are done with your nature appreciation club meeting, can we focus on what's important here?" Vyan interrupted, his gaze as sharp as a knife aimed at Clyde.
"Tell me, what did you mean by 'the place is in a terrible condition'?" Vyan questioned.
Clyde let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as if searching for the right words. "Well, the area is occupied by some slum-dwellers who built a colony there. Over the sixteen years, they made a lot of changes, assuming nobody would ever rise to the Grand Duke's position and restart the tradition."
He smiled wryly and added, "I guess we should find another location."
Vyan leaned back in his chair, his face lacking any expressions. "Why should we?"
"What do you mean, why?" Clyde frowned. "What else are we supposed to do? We can't uproot that many people from their homes—"
"If they didn't want to be uprooted, they should have thought twice before building their homes on my land," Vyan responded curtly, his tone as merciless as a winter storm.
Clyde shook his head, exasperation creeping into his voice. "Do you think it will be easy to convince them to leave? There is no way they will agree without a fight—"
"Then eliminate them."