Easton leaned in close. "No, I mean something truly unusual. Things that go beyond the ordinary… abilities that most people can't do." His gaze drilled into Iyana's, seeking any crack in her calm facade.
"I have no idea what you are hinting at," she replied, her voice steady, but just the slightest edge of nervousness slipped through, betraying the perfect mask she wore.
Easton's lips curled into a skeptical smirk as he straightened. "Is that so?" he drawled, as though already knowing her answer was a lie. "Well, it's not like it matters right now. But there is something else I need from you."
Iyana raised an eyebrow, wary of his sudden shift in tone. This Easton… he was acting different. He wasn't the same cold, righteous prince she knew. "Depends on what you are asking."
He flashed her a faint smile. "Find the mage who infiltrated the Aurora Palace and helped Princess Maria escape."
Iyana kept a straight face and squeezed her hands together behind her back, nails digging into her wrists. "I am sorry but I don't have the time to spare for an investigation like that," she replied, her voice firm but not entirely convincing.
Easton's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he caught the subtle crack in her response. "I get that you are swamped—cases piling up from being out of the capital with me for nearly a week. But this is a high-profile case too, Iyana. A mage who can wield fire magic isn't just someone harmless."
Iyana tightened her posture, her expression cool but her mind racing. "There is no guarantee that the infiltrator used fire magic," she stated. "It's possible they just rigged the palace to burn ahead of time, creating the perfect distraction for a smooth escape."
Easton watched her carefully. "Maybe," he conceded, his tone carrying a hint of challenge. "But doesn't it make more sense if magic was involved?"
Iyana's gaze stayed locked on his. "I don't think so."
Easton's scrutiny intensified, as if he could peel back her words and see the truth hidden beneath. "You know, don't you?" he finally asked, his voice a quiet accusation.
Iyana's expression didn't waver. "Know what? That you have gone off the rails since losing your position as Crown Prince?" she shot back, her words sharp enough to cut.
Easton chuckled darkly. "You are protecting the wrong man, Iyana. I hope you see that before it's too late. He is far more dangerous than you realize."
Iyana's face remained a blank canvas. "I still don't know what or who you are talking about."
"It seems like you really won't understand until it's too late. Until you are caught in his web and nothing but a collateral in his twisted plans."
Iyana glared at him, as if telling him to cut out the nonsense.
Easton shook his head, disappointment etched across his features. "You are making a big mistake, Iyana. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Her glare burned with a defiant fire. "I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions, Easton. I will own up to whatever comes of them," she said. "So leave me to worry about myself. Your concern is misplaced—and unwanted."
Easton sighed, a mix of resignation and a hint of something softer, almost regretful, before he turned and strode away.
As soon as he disappeared from view and she was left alone in her thoughts, Iyana's hands finally unclasped from behind her. Her fingers shook slightly as she pressed them against her sides.
Even though she acted as if Easton's instigation didn't bother her, they did. She knew what he was implying. She wanted to defend Vyan in her mind for her self-peace.
But Iyana was at a loss as to why Vyan kept hidden the fact that he could use magic. At the same time, she knew for certain: it was important for him to keep this secret buried, and what mattered to him was just as crucial to her. That was why she also made an effort to keep the fact unknown from Easton. S~eaʀᴄh the novёlF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
Even if…
She shivered as she recalled what she had stumbled upon a few hours ago in Vyan's garden.
She had been taking a stroll, trying to clear her mind after spending the night restless with worry—worry about Vyan, about who might have abducted him, and what he might have done to provoke such an act. The garden, though usually pristine, was disheveled, almost as if it mirrored the chaos in her thoughts.
Wandering the garden, Iyana couldn't help but wonder why Vyan had kept his answers vague and closed off. Though she longed to press him, to demand the truth, she had held back. He seemed so burdened lately, and she had been desperate to respect his silence.
That was why in order to quiet the questions in her head, she needed an escape away from him, to clear her mind.
But fate clearly had other plans.
Amidst the blossoms, her gaze fell on something that didn't belong: strands of pink hair tangled in the branches of a shrub.
Not just any pink, but a distinctive shade—long, lustrous, and unmistakably familiar. Her breath hitched. There was no one in the manor with such hair, except the most wanted person in the empire: Princess Maria.
Vyan's earlier slip—when he questioned her absence from court—suddenly made sense. While she had been on a wild goose chase with Easton, Vyan had been sheltering Maria in the one place no one would dare to investigate without imperial orders.
It wasn't hard to connect the dots—Vyan had done this for Althea, a move that would edge her closer to the crown. But why? What did Vyan stand to gain?
He wasn't so benevolent as to do it for the sake of their friendship or kinship. He had to have an angle, a reason that justified such a risky act.
But whatever the reason, it is still treason.
Instead of having her head cleared, Iyana was now full of more nagging questions and doubts.
She felt the pull of loyalty and principle tearing her apart. She wanted to keep protecting Vyan, to stand by him no matter what, but her conscience balked.
How could she reconcile her love for him with the unsettling reality of his actions? She had never imagined she would be caught in this kind of moral limbo, her sense of right and wrong blurring with each new revelation.
And yet, judging him felt impossible. She might not know the history of his scars exactly, but she did know of the scars' existence, of the demons that chased him. But knowing didn't make this any easier—it only made her feel more lost.
The choices before her loomed like a cliff's edge, and she wasn't sure which step would send her plummeting.
"...nothing but a collateral to his twisted plans."
Despite Easton's warnings, Iyana didn't fear becoming collateral in Vyan's schemes; she trusted that Vyan, above all, would never let her come to harm.
Are you really sure about that? What if his plans are more important than you? questioned her subconscious.
She clenched her fists, her resolve wavering. Was she truly blind to the man she loved, as Easton had accused?
No. Even if his plans were important, he would still never hurt me.
Iyana saw every side of Vyan—the light, the dark, the impossible mix of both. It was that clarity, that painful understanding of who he was, that made it so agonizing to decide where she stood.
"Do you really think I have no idea about the kind of man I am in love with?" she muttered under her breath, frustration intertwining in her voice.
She knew Vyan's flaws, his secrets, and the dangerous game he was playing. And still, she loved him fiercely. That was her crisis—the unbearable weight of knowing and loving him anyway, of standing on the brink of a decision that could change everything.
With a heavy heart, Iyana realized she was no longer just watching from the sidelines. She really was caught in the web of Vyan's plans. A reluctant participant who knew the truth and yet kept it hidden.