Ascension Of The Villain

Chapter 233: One-Track Mind

Iyana listened intently as Katelyn animatedly recounted her recent archery level-up. She was halfway through describing her future as an elite archer—complete with dramatic hand gestures—when she abruptly shifted the conversation.

"You know, I am thinking about picking up sword practice too. I mean, archery is great and I thought I only loved watching sword fights, but now I can't help but imagine what it would be like to swing the sword myself—"

Before Katelyn could fully dive into her new passion, a soft voice interjected, "Lady Iyana, may I have a word with you?"

Iyana turned to find Ronan, the young prince, standing behind her, a tentative smile on his face. She opened her mouth to reply, but Katelyn was quicker. "Ron! I was talking to her!" she huffed, hands on her hips, feigning outrage.

"Yes, yes, sister, I know," Ronan replied, flashing her a pleading smile. "But it's a bit urgent."

Katelyn narrowed her eyes at him, pretending to be tough, but it was only a matter of seconds before she sighed and rolled her eyes. As much as she tried, she could never stay mad at her elder brother. "Ugh, fine, you can borrow her. But don't take forever!"

"Thanks, Kate," Ronan chuckled, giving her a quick, appreciative nod before turning to Iyana. "Shall we?"

"Of course. What is on your mind, Your Imperial Highness?" Iyana replied, keeping her expression neutral, though her curiosity was piqued.

Ronan cast a cautious glance around, making sure they were out of earshot before lowering his voice. "Actually, it's not me—it's my mother. She wants to speak with you. She is waiting in the garden, because you know… she can't be seen here, or else, Empress Jade might throw a fit."

Iyana's face hardened, her gaze growing distant. "I understand," she replied coolly. "But frankly, I don't see the point. I know what Empress Celeste did to Vyan, and I have to say, I stand by his decision to cut her off."

Ronan's eyes widened. "Cut her off? She thought he was just… ignoring her for a bit."

Iyana sighed, folding her arms. "Vyan doesn't take betrayal lightly. She should have known that. I doubt he will forgive her anytime soon."

Ronan opened his mouth, an almost pleading look in his eyes. "But don't you think he is being a bit harsh? I mean, she did make a mistake, but she was afraid—"

"She tried to stab him, Your Imperial Highness," Iyana interrupted sharply, her tone icy. Ronan's face paled as he absorbed the revelation. "Of course, she didn't tell you that part. So honestly, Vyan is being merciful, considering how vengeful he normally is. By his standards, letting her off without consequences is almost a gift."

"But Lady Iyana, Mother is—"

Just then, a resounding smack echoed through the room, followed by the unmistakable thud of someone hitting the floor and a few shocked gasps.

Iyana turned with a groan, fully expecting to see a drunken fool causing a scene. "Honestly, why do people always have to—"

Her words caught in her throat. There, sprawled on the floor, was Vyan, gripping his jaw, his eyes flashing with a storm of anger as he glared up at the red-haired man towering over him.

"Oh, my Goddess," she whispered, feeling her heart leap into her throat as she dashed to his side. Ignoring the marquess entirely, she brushed past him with a deliberate bump and knelt down beside Vyan, her gaze flickering with concern. "Vee, are you alright?"

The fire in Vyan's eyes softened a little as he met her gaze, giving her a tight nod and whispered, "I am okay."

She returned the nod, quickly slipping an arm around his shoulder to support him up nevertheless. Experience tales at m v|l--NovelBin.net

Vyan straightened up, Iyana still holding him, as his demeanor turned icy calm looking at the marquess. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Lord Ryen."

"Oh, you don't, do you?" Robin sneered, voice dripping with venom. "So you are also going to pretend you don't know my wife was at your estate yesterday?"

Vyan clenched his jaw but maintained his composure, knowing where this was going. "Yes, she was. But I fail to see how that merits a punch to the face."

Robin's eyes narrowed. "As if you weren't the one luring her there with impure intentions," he retorted, practically vibrating with indignation. "I saw the letters you sent—inviting her to your estate like some lovesick pup."

"Yes, Lord Ryen. To chat," Vyan replied, leveling him with a look of utter incredulity.

"Oh, sure," Robin scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Like I am supposed to believe that a young man and a married woman were just chatting all day—"

"Stop it. You are just making a spectacle of yourself and shaming your wife."

"Oh, now you are concerned about her reputation?" Robin derided. "How touching."

"Someone has to be, given how determined you are to drag her through the mud," Vyan shot back, still maddeningly placid. "But, for your satisfaction, why don't you ask anyone at my estate? They will corroborate our story."

"I don't need anyone's testimony. I smelled your scent on her."

Vyan blinked, more than a little disturbed. "Pardon?" He glanced around, noting the shared look of discomfort among their audience. "How—no, never mind. I don't want to know. But if she did have my scent on her, it's probably because we hugged for about two seconds in a friendly way for your kind information."

"And what exactly justified this so-called 'friendly' hug?" Robin challenged, his sneer deepening.

"Well, there is this little fact that she has known me since I was an infant," Vyan replied, sarcasm thick in his voice. "However, I am not sure you would understand that kind of bond, Lord Ryen—might be too complex for a one-track mind like yours."

"Oh, you think you are so clever, mocking me." Robin's face contorted in anger. "But I know you want her."

Vyan sighed, then offered a tight smile. "Here is a plot twist that you could have never seen coming: I don't. I don't want your wife or anybody else's wife for that matter. I am already courting someone else."

Robin's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And who might that be, Your Grace?"

Iyana decided that was her cue and pointed to herself, "Right here."

Robin barked a laugh, full of derision. "You? Really?" He gave her a once-over, his face twisted with disdain. "You want me to believe a grand duke would lower himself to court a prince's discarded trash? Your Grace, I bet you really are into 'used goods,' aren't you?"

Iyana tightened her grip on Vyan's arm, whispering urgently, "Vee, stay calm—"

But it was too late. Vyan had already stepped forward. His fist connected with Robin's jaw in a vicious arc, the sickening crack echoing through the room.

Robin crumpled to the floor like a marionette with cut strings, a spray of blood marking his descent, and when he hit the ground, a bloody tooth rolled free, spinning to a stop between them.

"One more word against Iyana," Vyan warned, voice low and deadly, "and I swear, no deity in this realm will be able to stop me from killing you."