Ascension Of The Villain

The silence that followed felt like it sucked the air straight out of the room.

Vyan's hand froze mid‑air, spoon hovering above his bowl. His wine-red eyes darkened, expression hardening in a flash.

"Why the fuck not?" he said sharply, the low anger in his voice slicing through the softness of the moment. "Why won't you go back with me?"

Iyana's gaze didn't waver. She knew this side of him—the one that bristled when things didn't go his way, the one that burned too hot when it came to people he loved. He was all fire, all heart, and if she didn't choose her words carefully, he'd storm the world before listening to reason.

So she spoke gently, her voice calm like the tide. "Vee... if I go back with you, can you imagine the long-term consequences of this?" Her eyes searched his face, trying to soothe the storm already building behind his furrowed brows. "You might save me. But do you see the trouble you'd be throwing our empire into?"

He didn't even hesitate. "I don't care about our empire. I care about you. Haynes can burn up in flames—I don't fucking care."

Her chest ached. Even if Vyan could let go, she couldn't.

As an imperial knight at heart, Iyana couldn't forget her vow to protect her empire. She couldn't forget her allegiance and her duties.

"But I care."

"More than your life?" he snapped.

She controlled herself from answering yes to that. Because that'd only make him more enraged.

She reached forward, resting her fingers lightly on the edge of the table between them. "Vee... think clearly. Please. Take a deep breath and calm down. Give it some consideration, at least."

He leaned back in his chair, his jaw tight, chest rising and falling with deep, forceful breaths as he tried to cool the blaze inside him.

A beat of silence passed. Then came the ramble. It was fast, bitter, and laced with reluctant logic.

"Fine," he began. "What you're saying does have logic. If I take you back, then the negotiations between the two nations will fall apart. They'll accuse us of betrayal, maybe even demand a hostage exchange. Maybe they'll ask for Ronan or Katelyn…" His mouth twisted. "And hell, they'll probably attack us even more aggressively because there will be a new reason now. They'll claim that someone from Haynes sneaked into the imperial palace and stole their hostage. And as the Commander of the Imperial Knights, you don't want to create unnecessary troubles for your nation. So, you'd rather endure torture here."

Iyana gave a slow nod. "So you did know the consequences."

He avoided her eyes, gaze now on the floor, his jaw still clenched. "Yeah. I knew. And I chose to ignore them."

"Look at me." He did. "Princess Katelyn and Prince Ronan… they're your cousins."

"I… I know," he insisted. "But there's no way Thea would agree to a hostage exchange. And if they want to attack us for that, we'll fight back." He leaned forward, his eyes blazing with conviction. "Haynes will have you and me. You know my capabilities. We'll win. I'll close the monster barrier. Once that's done," he exhaled sharply, "we'll be unstoppable."

She considered his words, then replied, "And can you imagine how many lives might be lost throughout that, Vee?"

His face was unreadable for a moment, so she continued, "Even if we win, the war could go on for months. Years. That's not just battlefields and soldiers. That's families. That's children. That's the people of Ashstone—your people—living in fear, losing their homes, their lives. Our economy would suffer. Supplies would run dry. Towns will turn to ash. You—you—would be the one who incurs the most losses."

He didn't avert his gaze this time and looked straight into her eyes as he uttered, "Yes," he said softly, firmly. "Exactly. And I'm okay with that."

His voice didn't shake. He had already considered everything. And he was still okay with that.

Iyana's breath caught in her throat.

He meant it.

He would let his own land bleed if it meant saving her. He would let the fire of war swallow his family name, his wealth, his legacy—everything—if it meant she'd be free and alive.

Nevertheless, it was still illogical to her. Why should so many other people suffer because of them?

Vyan has always been a little—okay, a lot—apathetic. But she knew that he had changed a little as well. Her influence or not.

"Even if you say that, I know you care about them. About your people," Iyana reasoned, her voice carrying the kind of sadness that clung long after the words faded.

Vyan looked at her like that truth stabbed deeper than he wanted to admit. But his voice didn't falter.

"I care more about you," he let out. "And I'm not letting you stay here for another day."

"Vee…" she sighed. "It's going to be fine. I've been surviving just alright. You don't need to make such drastic decisions."

He scoffed under his breath, pushing a hand through his already tousled hair, frustration seeping from every inch of him. "No. I can't agree to that. I—tch—" He let out a sharp exhale. "You know, Iyana. You know very well that you are my first priority. I literally couldn't care less about anything else right now, not when you are in possible danger."

She swallowed hard, watching the fury in his eyes born not out of rage, but out of pure desperation. And love.

"I know," she whispered. Her eyes met his with a quiet strength, unwavering despite the storm he stirred around them. "I know how much I mean to you. And honestly… if I were in your shoes, I would probably feel the same. I'd want to burn everything down to get you back."

He looked at her, his gaze softening for a fleeting second, but she wasn't done.

"But if you were in my position," she said gently, "you'd try to convince me too. You'd ask me to think clearly. To see the bigger picture. That's all I'm trying to do."

Vyan leaned back with a humorless laugh and crossed his arms, his jaw tilting stubbornly. "Yeah, well. It might sound harsh, but I'm not in your shoes, Iyana. So, you're not going to convince me. Because if you're not leaving, I'm not leaving, either."

Her brow arched. "And where exactly are you going to live?"

He didn't even hesitate. "Here. Right here."

"In Tensene?"

He gave a firm nod, completely serious. "Yup. I'll stay here just comfortably. What was it you said just now? That you've been surviving here just alright? Well, I'll survive here just alright too."

Her lips parted in disbelief, a disbelieving breath leaving her. "Vee… You are so stubborn," she groaned, shaking her head, though her voice held a breath of laughter in it now, exasperated and fond all at once.

He lifted his hand in mock greeting. "Hi. I'm Vyan. I'm stubborn. We've met before, haven't we?" He the. gave her a wide-eyed expression, ridiculous and over-the-top, as if completely scandalized, like how could she even ask him to compromise with her safety of all people.

She threw him a look—half glare, half affection—and crossed her arms. "You aren't usually this stubborn with me."

"Anyway, if you don't agree to me staying here, then guess what? We're packing our bags and going home tomorrow."

Ugh!

She wanted to smack him. And she might have. If it weren't for that particular face. Why is he being so difficult?

Alright, logic, trying to make him empathize with the general public, and making him see it from her point of view didn't work. So, she had to use the ace up her sleeve.

"Okay… then tell me this." Her voice was soft, a hurt look on her face. "Do you really want to humiliate me by sneaking me out through the backdoor? After everything I've been through? After everything I've endured?" She swallowed, her throat tight. "Instead of honoring me by winning the war and taking me back proudly… with my head held high?"

The candlelight flickered between them, casting a golden glow over Vyan's expression as he stilled. Her words hung in the air like smoke.

He hesitated.

For a second, just one, she saw his resolve tremble. She didn't feel guilty about it. Because it was the truth as well.

His mouth parted as if to speak, but no sound came. Then, almost mechanically, he looked away. His jaw tensed as he sucked in a sharp breath. A few quiet moments passed, and when he turned back to her, he wore a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"If that's what I have to do to protect your life, then yes," he declared calmly. As she tried to speak again, he cut her off by saying, "Now, shall we continue eating then?"

Iyana didn't press. She knew that if she pushed now, the argument would spiral. His temper would ignite, hers wouldn't back down, and the fragile calm between them would collapse.

So she nodded quietly and picked up her spoon again, returning to the bowl that had long since gone lukewarm. They ate in silence, the air thick with unsaid words and unresolved emotions.

But inside, her mind was racing.

If he stays here… dear Goddess, if he really stays here, the crown prince of Tensene is going to end up murdered.

There was no doubt in her mind.

Our countries will burst into full-blown war, she thought grimly, stirring her spoon slowly, and it won't be some clean political maneuvering—it'll be bloodshed, chaos, and too many lives lost. All because of one man's obsession, and another man's rage.

And if Élliot… if he so much as looked at her the wrong way, or worse, if he touched her, even by mistake…

She didn't even want to imagine it.

Vyan's rationality would evaporate like dew in fire.

The moment he would see Élliot leaning too close, or flashing that sly smile he always wore when he thought he could get away with it, Vyan wouldn't speak. He wouldn't warn. He'd simply act.

And that would be it.

One dead prince.

One exploded empire.

And no way to turn back.