"...as the location is ready now, Freya has already hired workers to set up the camps. They will start working from tomorrow. It will take approximately twenty days to have it completed, which perfectly aligns with the inauguration ceremony. As for—"
Clyde stopped mid-sentence, noticing Vyan's eyes darting repeatedly towards the door.
"Is something there, my dear lord?" Clyde asked with a tight smile, stepping sideways to block Vyan's view.
"Huh?" Vyan looked up, startled like a deer caught in the headlights.
"You keep glancing at the door," Clyde pointed out. "Expecting Benedict to waltz in with your evening snack? Let me guess—chocolate éclair?"
"Um, yeah, totally," Vyan replied, a little too eagerly.
Clyde raised an eyebrow, his skepticism practically radiating. "Right, and I am the Queen of Redsance. Who are you trying to fool here, Vyan?"
Vyan met Clyde's suspicious gaze and released a defeated sigh. "Fine, fine, I wasn't waiting for Benedict. I just..." He glanced away. "I just find it weird that Iyana hasn't come to annoy me for the last three days."
Clyde's expression morphed into one of gleeful mischief. "Oh, it's about Lady Iyana," he teased. "Why didn't you say so before?"
"It's not what you think," Vyan frowned. "I am just worried her sudden silence means she is plotting something diabolical."
"Could be," Clyde twitched his lips, clearly enjoying this. "She has been taking a few solo excursions out of the house lately."
"Did you ask where she has been going?"
"Of course. She said she was just out enjoying herself because, you know, that's her purpose for coming to Ashstone. Plus, someone didn't take her out as promised." Clyde gave Vyan a knowing look.
Vyan rolled his eyes, fully aware of her true motive. "Yeah, right. You and I both know she is here to find proof against me, not enjoy the scenery."
"Maybe she gave up?" Clyde suggested.
"Yes, because that sounds as possible as me mastering the piano keys."
Vyan clearly remembered how she had hugged him out of nowhere and then bolted away like a shy bride. Ever since that baffling incident, she had vanished like a puff of smoke.
"She must be up to something. For sure," he muttered to himself. "I have got to be on my guard."
Little did Vyan know, his suspicion was spot on.
At that very moment, on the other side of the manor, Iyana was grinning triumphantly, clutching a silver cubic artifact in one hand and a small glass bottle in the other.
"Can't believe it took me so long to track these items," she declared, her voice full of glee.
"With these, I can record that guy in the act without getting caught."
Yes, the artifact she was holding was a magical device that could capture and display moments and the bottle was filled with invisibility potion.
She had been scouring the Sorcerer's Market—a bustling bazaar in Ashstone renowned for its extensive array of magical oddities. Today, she had finally managed to snag them.
"Then, I can blackmail him into telling the truth about his involvement in Lady Kaya's kidnapping."
Because for whatever reason, Vyan was hiding his magical abilities from the emperor and everyone else. So high chances, to protect this secret of his, he might spill the beans.
Great! Now, all she had to do was trap Vyan!
However, that was easier said than done.
First, she tried to be nice—a rookie mistake—and made a mess of all the important papers on his desk, assuming he would use magic to rearrange them.
Instead, he called Benedict, who tossed the papers out with the enthusiasm of someone taking out the trash, while Freya brought in fresh copies like it was just another regular day.
Next, she hid his book on the top shelf of the library and stashed the ladder away, smugly imagining his frustration. But Vyan decided to be a curveball and simply picked another book off the shelf.
Seriously, who does that? Doesn't he have the curiosity to know what happens next in that book?
Then, she threw ink all over one of his favorite paintings, expecting some fireworks. But the heartless guy just dumped the painting without a second glance as if it was a cheap poster.
After these attempts, she tried countless other schemes to get him to use magic regularly. But he kept acting like a magic-less muggle.
How was that even possible? Every mage she knew was a slacker who used magic for the silliest reasons.
Take Clyde, for example—he even signed documents with magic and teleported from one room to another just because he could.
Finally, fed up with Vyan's un-magical antics, Iyana threw a literal sword at him.
Instead of conjuring a magical shield, he dodged it as a regular human avoiding a hug from an annoying relative at a family reunion.
"What the hell was that for?" Vyan barked, shooting her a glare.
This time, she hadn't used her invisibility potion. Otherwise, the whole staff would be running around like headless chickens trying to locate the assassin who just attempted to one-shot their master.
Iyana shrugged nonchalantly and sauntered over to him.
He had been in the middle of a self-practice session since Theodore had taken a day off and Spencer had run off to break up a fight between some knights.
"You have been out of my sight for a whole week, and the first thing you do is chuck a sword at my head? What's wrong with you?" Vyan demanded, one hand on his hip.
"I just felt like it," Iyana replied with a shrug.
"Oh, well, that explains everything. Thank you for clearing that up," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Who cares? You didn't even get a scratch," she rolled her eyes.
"Right, because getting decapitated would have been a mere minor inconvenience."
"Exactly," she said, tapping her bracelet to bring out her sword.
He furrowed his brows.
She assumed a battle stance and asked, "Fight me, Your Grace."
Vyan scoffed. "What do you take me for? You think you can just try to kill me with a surprise attack and now suddenly you want a fair fight? No, thank you. I not-so-respectfully decline."
"I won't kill you. Promise."
"Oh, sure, a promise. That's as assuring as a hug from a porcupine."
"Come on now, why would I want to even kill you in the first place? You have done nothing to urge me to take your life, now have you?" she challenged.
"And that means I have to fight you because…?"
"Because there is no harm in it. It must be boring to duel with Sir Spencer every day," she reasoned. "A change might be nice."
Vyan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What's your agenda here?"
"Nothing. I just feel like having a good fight with you."
"Why all of a sudden? And you even came prepared," he pointed out, eyeing her training outfit.
"Enough talking," she said.
"No, it's not enough. Not until I ag—"
Before he could finish his sentence, she was already moving, her sword flashing in the sunlight as she lunged at him.
Vyan barely had time to react, his own sword instinctively meeting hers with a resounding clang.
"Iyana, what in the realms is going on with you?" he snapped, straining to hold her off. "Give me some warning first!"
Iyana's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I would have if you just listened to me from the beginning." She pressed her advantage, forcing him to retreat.
"Iyana, seriously, I don't want to fight you," he said, deflecting her blows with increasing desperation.
"Come on, Your Grace. Are you afraid you will get bested by a girl?"
"Trust me, that's the least of my concerns," he grumbled, narrowly avoiding a strike aimed at his shoulder. "I might not even make it out alive."
She snorted, a sound that was both inelegant and entirely in character. "Oh, I assure you that you will. Just give it your all. Don't you dare hold back."
He parried another blow, his stance faltering. Gritting his teeth and summoning a little strength, he pushed her back. "Fine, then. You leave me no choice."
Iyana smirked and flash-stepped behind him to strike him from behind, but he was quick enough to spin around and block her.
Shit, I thought for sure he would use a shield to deflect that one at least.
But that's okay.
She narrowed her eyes with determination.
I just have to make him feel the real threat of getting killed.
Her strikes started coming faster after thjs. She wanted to push him, to make him show his true potential.
"Come on, show me what you are made of, Your Grace."
Vyan grimaced, his movements becoming more erratic. "Iyana, stop. Are you trying to actually hurt me?"
"Hurt you? No, Your Grace, no. I want to kill you."
"I fucking knew it. You are such a liar." He deflected another blow, but his sword was knocked from his hand, clattering to the ground.
Iyana didn't hesitate, pressing her advantage.
Within moments, she had him on the ground, her sword at his neck.
"Any last words?" she asked, not even panting slightly.
Vyan glanced up at her, his eyes a mix of frustration and resignation. "To you? Not a chance."
"You are really giving up? No fight left in you?" she pressed, the blade inching closer, her expression darkening with lethal intent.
"And how exactly should I do that? I don't even have a weapon," Vyan shot back.
"But maybe you do," she urged, almost desperate.
Use your magic. Come on, blow me away with a blast or something, she chanted in her mind.
"Well, I suppose I do have my voice. I could probably scream real loud and hope Spencer hears me—"
"Stop joking. If you really don't have anything to fight back with, I will end you right here and put my family out of their misery."
"Since I don't, I guess this is it for me."
Iyana clenched her jaw. Why isn't he taking me seriously?
"Ugh," she groaned, getting up. "You are infuriating."
As she stomped away, Vyan sat up and chuckled.
"Oh, Iyana, how dumb do you think I am?" He stood, dusting off his clothes. "Did you really think I would reveal my magical abilities because of these amateur tricks?"
He shook his head, laughing slightly. "Using an invisible potion? I mean, really?"
After being locked in his childhood hideout with Iyana last week, Vyan had learned and cast a spell on himself to always be able to spot anything invisible around him—including invisible people.
So he knew from the start that Iyana had been following him around with a recorder artifact, hoping to catch him using magic. How she guessed he had powers was a mystery, but the point was, she did.
One thing was clear, though: she had no proof.
"And you will never find proof against me," he smirked, "not until it's too late, anyway."
———
The marquess paced the living room late at night like a cat trapped in a very stressful cage. His shoulders hunched as if trying to hold up the weight of his worries.
There were only two days left until the deadline set by Count Clipton, after all.
Iyana still hadn't come up with anything to prove him and Lyon innocent. Even if she pulled off a miracle, he still didn't have the funds to pay back the initial amount he had borrowed from the count, let alone the doubled amount and the ransom money.
No one was willing to lend him a single coin, and his businesses were sinking faster than his mood.
Just when he had resigned himself to selling his wife and daughters' jewelry, a thief had conveniently stolen the lot last night.
So, now he truly had nothing left to his name except, perhaps, his magnet for bad luck.
At this rate, he was bound for jail alongside his son.
If that happened, he would be the laughingstock of the entire nation. His grand dreams of becoming in-laws with the imperial family would be nothing but a distant memory, swept away with his dignity.
"Oh, lord, help me. Please send me an angel. Heck, I would even take the offer of a devil! Just somebody, anybody, to help me out of this predicament!" He prayed full of desperation. "I would even sell my soul to get out of this trouble."
As if on cue, his butler arrived with news.
"Master, His Grace, the Grand Duke of Ashstone, has come to see you. He requests an urgent audience."
Edward's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
Had a devil actually been sent to help him out of this mess?
When the butler brought Vyan in, Edward gritted his teeth and had no patience for politeness as he barked, "What are you here for? What do you want?!"
As Vyan's lips spread into a devil-like smile, thunder crackled outside the manor. "I come bearing an offer, Marquess."