Chapter 51: Testing The Mage

"...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 twty days to have it completed, which perfectly aligns with the inauguration ceremony. As for—"

Clyde stopped mid-stce, 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 Bedict to waltz in with your eving 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 Que 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 Bedict. 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 sudd silce means she is plotting something diabolical."

"Could be," Clyde twitched his lips, clearly joying this. "She has be taking a few solo excursions out of the house lately."

"Did you ask where she has be going?"

"Of course. She said she was just out joying 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 joy the scery."

"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 th bolted away like a shy bride. Ever since that baffling incidt, 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 momt, 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 momts and the bottle was filled with invisibility potion.

She had be scouring the Sorcerer's Market—a bustling bazaar in Ashstone rowned for its extsive array of magical oddities. Today, she had finally managed to snag them.

"Th, I can blackmail him into telling the truth about his involvemt 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 Bedict, who tossed the papers out with the thusiasm 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 happs next in that book?

Th, 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 ev possible? Every mage she knew was a slacker who used magic for the silliest reasons.

Take Clyde, for example—he ev signed documts 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 a like headless chicks trying to locate the assassin who just attempted to one-shot their master.

Iyana shrugged nonchalantly and sauntered over to him.

He had be in the middle of a self-practice session since Theodore had tak a day off and Spcer had run off to break up a fight betwe some knights.

"You have be 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 ev get a scratch," she rolled her eyes.

"Right, because getting decapitated would have be a mere minor inconvice."

"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 suddly 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 ev kill you in the first place? You have done nothing to urge me to take your life, now have you?" she challged.

"And that means I have to fight you because…?"

"Because there is no harm in it. It must be boring to duel with Sir Spcer every day," she reasoned. "A change might be nice."

Vyan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What's your agda here?"

"Nothing. I just feel like having a good fight with you."

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"Why all of a sudd? And you ev came prepared," he pointed out, eyeing her training outfit.

"Enough talking," she said.

"No, it's not ough. Not until I ag—"

Before he could finish his stce, 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 listed 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 ev make it out alive."

She snorted, a sound that was both inelegant and tirely 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 strgth, he pushed her back. "Fine, th. You leave me no choice."

Iyana smirked and flash-stepped behind him to strike him from behind, but he was quick ough to spin a 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 pottial.

"Come on, show me what you are made of, Your Grace."

Vyan grimaced, his movemts 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 g.

Iyana didn't hesitate, pressing her advantage.

Within momts, she had him on the g, her sword at his neck.

"Any last words?" she asked, not ev panting slightly.

Vyan glanced up at her, his eyes a mix of frustration and resignation. "To you? Not a chance." Sёarᴄh the NôvelFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"You are really giving up? No fight left in you?" she pressed, the blade inching closer, her expression darking with lethal intt.

"And how exactly should I do that? I don't ev 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 Spcer hears me—"

"Stop joking. If you really don't have anything to fight back with, I will d you right here and put my family out of their misery."

"Since I don't, I guess this is it for me."

Iyana clched 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 a him—including invisible people.

So he knew from the start that Iyana had be following him a 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 innoct. Ev 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 ld him a single coin, and his businesses were sinking faster than his mood.

Just wh he had resigned himself to selling his wife and daughters' jewelry, a thief had convitly stol 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 happed, he would be the laughingstock of the tire 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 sd me an angel. Heck, I would ev take the offer of a devil! Just somebody, anybody, to help me out of this predicamt!" He prayed full of desperation. "I would ev 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 urgt audice."

Edward's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Had a devil actually be st to help him out of this mess?

Wh the butler brought Vyan in, Edward gritted his teeth and had no patice for politess 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."