Ascension Of The Villain

Iyana let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes. How pointless of her to even doubt Vyan. Even in anger, he wasn't an amateur… right?

"Not this again. Easton, I know you care about me, but Vyan isn't who you think he is. You need to let go of this suspicion."

"You know I care for you?" A self-deprecating smile tugged at Easton's lips. "Wow, that's news. I was starting to think you hadn't noticed for a while now."

Iyana softened a little, shifting her stance. "Hey, we are friends, Easton. You are one of my oldest friends. I know I have been... less than friendly since I lost my memories, but—"

"Wait." He blinked, his composure finally cracking. "Why… why are you talking about the memory loss like it's behind you?"

"Oh, that's right." She waved a hand nonchalantly. "I got my memories back."

"Oh." The word was barely a whisper, and Iyana noticed the sudden nervousness in his eyes. He didn't look relieved or even surprised—just unsettled. "That's… well, that's great. Good for you."

"Thank you," she replied, studying his face. "And also, thank you for that time, you know, last year around the Month of Coral. We were forced to go on a date together, and I ended up breaking into tears by the end."

"Yes, I remember that. How could I forget that? You had sobbed someone who had lost everything in her life," he said, his voice hollow.

"At least, that's what I felt at that time," she admitted, a little embarrassed. "So, anyway, I just wanted to thank you for being there for me at that time."

"You are welcome, I guess."

"And I am also sorry about everything else. I know it must have been hard for you too, with our wedding and all, especially since you are, well, terrible at expressing yourself."

He let out a small, awkward laugh. "Terrible, huh? I guess I can't argue with that." He paused, forcing a small smile. "But don't worry, I am over it. I am over you."

She smiled back, her tone surprisingly warm. "Good to hear, Easton. Really."

"And I might actually be happy for you," Easton remarked dryly, "if you hadn't decided to tie yourself to someone like the Grand Duke."

Iyana narrowed her eyes. "What's wrong with Vyan? He is a perfectly good man," she defended, even though a part of her wanted to laugh at that.

Easton let out a short, derisive chuckle. "Good man? Sure. Except good men don't end up accused of murder."

"I told you, he is being framed."

Easton leaned in slightly, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Is he really, Iyana? I know His Grace loves you—anyone can see that. Which is precisely why I find this murder accusation all too plausible."

"What exactly are you suggesting?" she demanded.

"Oh, nothing too wild," he replied, feigning nonchalance. "Maybe Marquess Ryen said something… unsavory about you, and His Grace, being the fine, 'good' man he is, lost his temper. Because sometimes love makes good people do bad things."

"That's ridiculous," Iyana shot back.

"Well," Easton said with a shrug, "it's something to think about. Even the most controlled people can snap, can't they? His Grace might just be one of those people who doesn't think twice about the consequences once he is angry."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Easton patted her shoulder with a subtle condescending air. "Save your breath, Iyana. You are going to need it if you plan to stay with someone like him."

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her rooted in place.

———

Vyan was sitting on a modest bed, his mind wandering, when a familiar voice murmured his name from across the room. He looked up, and there, on the other side of the barred window, was the person he was waiting for. He stood up, a slow smile spreading across his face as he approached her.

"You sure took your time coming to see me, my lady. I was about to drift off," he teased, leaning against the cold metal.

Iyana scoffed, rolling her eyes. "As if you could sleep here, even if you tried," she shot back, fully aware of his insomnia. She knew he only ever managed to sleep if she was near or if there was lavender incense to soothe him. "I could have brought you some lavender, but honestly, it's probably for the best that you stay wide awake.

After all, there is a murderer on the loose, who possibly has a beef with you."

He chuckled and nodded in agreement, but his gaze lingered on her face, savoring the sight. "Anyway, what took you so long?"

"There was plenty to handle—dealing with the officer in charge, examining the crime scene, interviewing witnesses," she said, counting off the tasks on her fingers.

"Hold on," he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "Weren't you banned from conducting interrogations? Especially with witnesses?"

Iyana shrugged, a hint of smugness flashing in her eyes. "Well, let's just say the ban was lifted… by the commander herself." She gave him a sideways grin, and he had to suppress a laugh. "Oh, and by the way, I ran into Easton earlier."

His smile faded, and his expression turned guarded. "Oh?"

She waved it off casually, though her eyes were watching him carefully. "It was nothing, really. He just tried to convince me you are the one behind all this. But we both know that's not true. Because Easton always assumes the worst about you," she huffed. "You are clearly not… behind this…" she trailed off as she noticed his silence.

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Iyana's face softened, and she reached out, slipping her hand through the bars to hold his. His eyes flickered to their joined hands, and then back up to meet her gaze.

"Vee," she began quietly, her tone warm and reassuring, "you know I am on your side, no matter what, right?"

"I know that."

"SO… whatever you did, I am here for you. Just come clean to me so I can help you. I promise, there will be no judgment from my side. In fact, Marquess Ryen most likely deserved it," she rambled.

A flicker of worry crossed her face as she spoke, but she held firm, knowing what might come next. If Vyan had lost his temper and done the unthinkable, she would have to cover for him, not dig deeper into the case.

She gave his hand a squeeze. "Vee? You can tell me. But I swear I won't be mad at you or even scold you. Just… just tell me the truth."

Vyan hesitated, his gaze averting from hers. "Iyana, I…"

She squeezed his hand again, her expression urging him to continue. He let out a heavy breath, his face filled with regret.

"I am sorry, Iyana," he admitted at last, his voice barely a whisper, "but… Easton is right. I am the culprit."