Vyan leaned back, crossing his arms as he eyed Althea and Clyde. "Alright, Thea, you are on Easton duty. Clyde, you get the glorious task of tracking down Sienna."
Althea gave a quick nod, already gearing up mentally for the task, while Clyde's face twisted into something halfway between concern and reluctance. "Hold on. If I am off hunting for Sienna, you are going to need someone guarding your back too, you know." He raised an eyebrow, looking around as if expecting a secret bodyguard to appear from thin air.
"Well, too bad, Spencer is on leave too," Vyan replied.
Clyde muttered, "Figures. I wish I could just use your new aide."
Vyan's eyes narrowed. "So, do you have somebody specific in mind for that position?"
"Oh, you know," Clyde replied with a wave of his hand, clearly enjoying the build-up. "Raith."
"Raith? As in, Sir Raith Jones?" As Clyde eagerly nodded to that, Vyan's face instantly darkened. "Absolutely not. I don't trust him."
"And why is that?" Enjoy new stories from m-v l'e|-NovelFire.net
Vyan leaned in, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Gee, I wonder why I wouldn't trust a man who helped the emperor exploit my brother for sixteen years."
Clyde chuckled, unfazed. "Well, that just shows that he is loyal, you know? So, he wouldn't mind doing your dirty work, either."
"Yes, but why would I hire my enemy's guard dog out of literally all the people in Haynes?"
"That's your concern, not mine, and as far as I am concerned, I am in charge of finding my successor. So, if I find him to be competent enough to be your aide, then that's the final decision."
"It's not how it works—" Vyan tried to say, but he was completely ignored by his gray-haired friend.
"Besides, I have done a pretty decent job of convincing Raith so far," Clyde shrugged casually, as if persuading a former enemy to switch sides was just another Tuesday. "Too bad I can't parade him around just yet, what with everyone thinking he is still dead and all. We will have to wait for the coronation before we roll out that surprise."
"Whatever." Vyan sighed, waving him off. "Look, I will be fine on my own for a few days, as long as Clyde focuses on locating Sienna." As Clyde opened his mouth to object, Vyan added, "And by fine, I mean, I will drag a few other knights along if I have to leave the estate, though I am not planning on going out much."
"Oh?" Clyde arched a brow. "But aren't you supposed to visit the mines in Rene tomorrow?"
"No, I, uh, had Freya postpone it for me. I have another important engagement tomorrow."
"With whom?" Clyde asked curiously.
Vyan smiled and said, "It's a meeting with someone special."
———
The next morning, Vyan sat on the patio with a book in hand, basking in the garden's serene beauty. The morning light danced across the leaves, and he heard the soft patter of footsteps approaching. Glancing up, he found himself looking into a pair of familiar gray eyes, belonging to a stunning woman with vibrant ginger hair.
He set his book aside and stood up, a warm smile spreading across his face as he approached her. Taking her hand, he pressed a light, playful kiss to her knuckles. "A pleasure to meet you, Marchioness Ryen."
"Likewise, Your Grace," she replied, her smile equally teasing.
They locked eyes for a split second before bursting into laughter, and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. "Oh, drop the formalities, Vee. You are making me feel like a stranger!"
Vyan chuckled, hugging her back tightly. "I suppose I can call you Daphne, then?" Sёarch* The Nôvelƒire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
"Oh, obviously!" Daphne pulled back just enough to pinch his cheek with a mock pout. "You have lost that baby chub! I will miss that squishy little face."
Vyan rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. "Well, sorry I am not five anymore."
She took a step back, studying him with an affectionate grin. "So, this is what Ash might have looked like if he had made it to his twenties. Vee, is there any chance you could turn that hair red? I am trying to get a better picture of Ash."
He laughed, shaking his head. "So, you know I have magic?"
"Of course I know! I taught you to make magical swans, remember?"
"Hold on. I am pretty sure Ash taught me that."
"Yes, but I taught Ash, which makes me your grand-teacher, obviously."
"Well, thanks, Daphne. That skill has saved me countless times in life-or-death situations. Paper swans are highly underrated in combat."
"Anytime, little one." She ruffled his hair affectionately, making her way over to the couch and sinking into its cushions with a contented sigh. "I missed this estate," she murmured, looking around with a nostalgic smile. "Every corner, every nook... it's like stepping back into a world of memories."
Vyan's heart grew heavy as he looked at Daphne, the ache of old regrets surfacing between them. "I am sorry…" he began, his voice barely above a whisper.
Daphne looked up, a hint of surprise flashing in her gray eyes. "Oh, Vee, what in the world are you apologizing for?"
He moved to sit beside her, his gaze falling to the ground. "We both know it's my fault you never got to be... well, the lady of this house."
Her eyes softened, but her expression turned distant as she looked away, lost in thoughts of the past. "I won't deny it," she said quietly. "For a while, I did blame you. Or maybe not you, exactly. I blamed the love Ash had for you—the love that drove him to sacrifice himself to save you."
The words stung, though he had always expected them.
"But," she continued, her voice tender, "when I found my way back to myself, I realized Ash would have done the same for me. That was just who he was. He would go to any lengths to protect the ones he loved."
She placed a gentle hand over his, her touch warm yet bittersweet. "So, I am sorry, Vee, for the anger I held. Especially when you were the one who lifted Ash when I couldn't. And for that, I still hate your grandfather with a burning passion. That bastard of an old geezer…" she cursed.
Vyan looked up at her, searching her face. "Daphne... do you still love Ash?"
A soft, melancholy laugh escaped her. "Of course, I do. Not the same way, not like before, but I do. And I think I always will. I mean, I knew him from the day I was born. He was my best friend, my soulmate, my almost-husband...
my everything."
Vyan knew the depth of Daphne's love for his brother. She had woven herself into their family long before she was meant to, cherishing them as her own. She had always known that one day, she would be the lady of this estate, married to the future head of the family.
Their matrimonial fates had been entwined from the time they were three, the union arranged by their fathers, who were inseparable friends.
Aster's supposed death must have shattered her in ways Vyan couldn't fully fathom.
Benedict had once confided that Daphne visited Aster's grave every month, like a ritual, for six long years after his death. Then, she got married, and the visits stopped. She never set foot on Ashstone again, never returned for Vyan's ascension party or the grand monster hunt festival, each time sending word that she was unwell.
So, when Daphne replied to his last letter with a promise to visit, Vyan had been taken aback. He hadn't breathed a word about Aster being alive, and yet, here she was, seated beside him.
He took a deep breath, his voice gentle but probing. "Let me ask it a different way: do you love your husband?"
A faint tremor ran through her, so subtle it almost went unnoticed. "What kind of question is that? Of course, I do."
"It's okay," he murmured. "You don't have to hide it from me. I know about how it all happened."
She shook her head, smiling softly. "It's not a big deal."
"Not a big deal?" Vyan's voice tightened. "Ten years ago, your house burned to the ground. You lost your mother, your father, your brother—everyone you loved, gone in a single night. And after all that, you had to marry the first man you could find, just to keep your father's title from falling into your uncle's hands."
Daphne sighed, her gaze far away. "What can I say? I was lucky to find Robin. He is not Ash, but he is good in his own way."
"Oh? Like how?" Vyan asked, suspicion lacing his voice.
"He cares for my father's legacy like it's his own. He is loving, kind, and—"
"And abusive."