Ascension Of The Villain

In the late afternoon, a soft knock on the heavy oak door barely disturbed the silence of the office. Vyan glanced up from the stack of documents before him.

"Come in," he called lazily.

The door opened with a quiet creak, and Freya stepped inside with her usual grace. Clad in a simple navy blue gown, every inch the capable treasurer, she gave a respectful nod before her expression softened with concern.

"Has Clyde returned safely?" she asked, folding her hands in front of her.

"Yes. He is now with the princess." Vyan leaned back in his chair, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "Why are you asking though, Freya? Wouldn't you be happy if that idiot finally kicked the bucket? You two bicker like unsupervised children in a marketplace, after all."

Freya flushed. "That's not—!" She cleared her throat, adjusting her posture. "Ahem. Anyway. Why did you summon me, Vyan?"

Vyan chuckled under his breath, then gestured toward the chair across from him. "Have a seat."

She obeyed, her curious gaze not leaving his face. It has been a while since Vyan had invited her for a chat. Although she had her doubts that it was simply an idle chat. He had business with her.

Something in his demeanor shifted—beneath the teasing, his eyes held a tired, almost lifeless glint.

He seemed far away—like his soul had walked into a darker room than the one they were standing in.

"Freya," he began, "What I am about to ask of you, it must remain between the two of us. Under no circumstances should the others catch wind of it. So, tell me, can I trust you?"

Freya was a little startled, honestly. For Vyan to formally ask, knowing she would never breathe a word to anyone else about strict business, it must mean it was something even Clyde or Lady Iyana couldn't hear of.

"Yes, of course." She had a feeling it was going to be something related to whatever Clyde has been stressing about for the past few days. She would often see him get angry at petty things these days, murmuring to himself at how things were just so unfair to Vyan. Needless to say, Freya was curious, despite the creeping sensation of doom.

Vyan picked up his feather pen and continued to sign the documents as he had been earlier. "In my absence, I want you to manage the Grand Duchy and handle all its paperwork," he said as casually as ever.

Freya blinked, her calm expression flickering with surprise. "Your absence?" she echoed softly, eyes narrowing. "What is this about, Vyan?"

He didn't stop his work, his eyes dull with something close to weariness. There was no trace of his usual sharp wit or sardonic charm—just emptiness.

"As you know, there are no trustworthy relatives left to shoulder the responsibilities of Ashstone if something were to happen to me." His tone wasn't dramatic. It wasn't grim. It was factual. "Ash is not well. Clyde is going to marry Princess Althea. My father was an only child. My grandfather, too. So I have no paternal cousins." That was the reason that the title of Grand Duke was left untouched for fifteen long years and Clyde's father, Lincoln, had to take care of it. "I have to think practically. I can't leave my family's domain unattended again."

Come to think of it, it would have been nice if I had married Iyana by now. I could have left her with the fortunes of a grand duchess, given how the House Estelle is basically penniless now, Vyan briefly thought to himself and suddenly found a new idea emerging to the surface. Mhmmm…

Freya's brows knit, her usually composed features shifting. "Why are you saying this all of a sudden? You sound like you are planning your own demise."

Vyan gave a mirthless smile, the kind that didn't reach his eyes. "One has to be prepared for all sorts of unfortunate scenarios, don't you think? I don't know the future, Freya. And hoping for it to be kind is not a strategy."

Freya's lips parted, as though to argue, but nothing came. A tight feeling settled in her chest. It wasn't like him to sound so… final.

"I need you to draft a will," he said. "One that clearly states that all physical assets of Ashstone may only be inherited by a true-blooded Ashstone and their spouses. That way, even if I am not around, Ash will live comfortably. He won't have to struggle. Nor Iyana, in the scenario that something happens to me after we get married."

He paused, and for a moment, the weight of brotherhood crept into his voice.

"Also, make sure Ash gets the best care in the Empire. Always. That's not negotiable."

Freya nodded slowly, her mind racing with silent protest. She could feel the walls tightening around her chest, filled with questions, but she couldn't voice them. Even if she considered Vyan a friend of hers, at the end of the day, he was still her boss.

"I am also entitled to fifty percent of the Preaton fortunes—being the only alive son of the Duke's eldest daughter," he continued, his voice now all business again. "Transfer those to Prince Ronan and Princess Katelyn."

"Why?" Freya managed to ask—just that one word. It felt safer, less intimate than all the other questions circling her thoughts.

"I simply don't need it," Vyan replied with a shrug. "That wealth would be far more useful to those two kids."

"I see."

"On that note," he continued, "all of my mother's jewelry and accessories—the ones that have been preserved all this time—should be split equally. I don't think she ever got the chance to do it herself before she passed. So, half should be set aside for my wife… and the other half for Ash's. Fair and square."

Freya raised a brow. "Isn't it unlikely—"

"That my brother will ever get married?" Vyan cut in with a dry laugh. "Don't be so pessimistic, Freya. Miracles exist. Who knows? Maybe one day Ash will heal, fall hopelessly in love, and insist on a wedding no one sees coming. If that ever happens, I wouldn't want his wife to feel excluded from the family legacy."

Freya hummed, the faintest smile playing at her lips. "You have mentioned so many details… but not what would happen if you had a child."

"Well," he said, tone light but not without an edge, "I did state that the family fortune is to be passed down to the true-blooded Ashstones and their spouses. So, if I have children, they will be covered. They won't have to worry."

Though it still feels like a distant, fragile dream—living long enough to see that part of my life unfold. The unspoken thought lingered behind his eyes.

She nodded slowly.

"However," Vyan added quietly, "in the event I do leave behind a child… I want you to support them until they come of age. That's not just part of the will. That's a personal request."

Freya's expression softened. "It would be an honor."

Then, her eyes widened slightly as she added with a touch of urgency, "But let's try to stay positive, shall we? You are not going anywhere. You will live to be a grey old duke who yells at bureaucrats and refuses to retire."

"Yes, yes," Vyan said with a small laugh. "I hope so too. I would prefer to avoid the chaos my absence would cause. And besides—" he gave her a sideways glance, "—I would like for you to have the chance to settle down someday as well."

A chill shot down her spine at the thought. Not just of Vyan being gone—but of the crushing burden his absence would leave on her shoulders. The idea of dying a spinster, shackled to the Grand Duchy and buried under a mountain of responsibilities, was not exactly the fairytale ending she'd imagined as a girl.

Thinking of a fairytale…

Since Vyan was wrapping up all the loose threads, Freya couldn't help but ask carefully, "What about Lord Lyon?"

Vyan's gaze sharpened just slightly. "What about him?"

Freya looked away. Just for a second. A flicker.

He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. "Freya," he said, voice low but pointed. "You do know I am aware that you have been frequenting the stables lately."

She stilled. "...I needed fresh air."

"Mhm. You and the horses are close friends, I am sure," he muttered dryly, then sighed. "Look—I have no intention of dictating who my employees fall in love with. I won't tell you who you should or shouldn't care for. But I will warn you. Lyon is vermin. He humiliated you. Even went as far as to slap you."

Freya's eyes snapped up, her mouth tightening. "He isn't like that anymore. He has changed. He has been humbled."

"Humbled?" Vyan echoed with a bitter scoff. "People don't change that fast unless they are struck by lightning or divine intervention."

"He is trying," she pressed.

"Then let him," Vyan said simply, voice flat. "Do whatever you see fit. I will leave the decision of what to do with Lyon… entirely in your hands."

Freya fell silent. She wasn't sure if she felt more relieved or burdened by the choice.

"And Lady Iyana?" she asked quietly.

Vyan didn't even blink. "She doesn't care a bit."

"That's not true," Freya murmured. "They were forming something stable—"

"Because back then," he said sharply, "she didn't remember the torture Lyon put her through for most of her life. And Iyana is not a merciful person. Unless Lyon wants to gamble his neck trying to win her over again—and do it sincerely—there is no future there. I can guarantee she won't take the first step."

Freya gave a quiet hum. A note of caution, maybe. Or resignation.

Vyan picked up his feather pen again, tone cool once again. "Start on the work I gave you. I want it all finished—fast. No delays."

Freya bowed her head, but as she turned to leave, her hand lingered at the doorknob. "You really are not going anywhere, are you?"

Vyan didn't answer immediately. "No, I am not. It's just something I should have done the day right after inheriting my title," he said at last.

But somehow, the way he said it didn't sound reassuring at all. Before she could question further, he added, "With that all being said, I would like to offer you a pay raise. How does increasing it ten times sound?"

Freya chuckled lightly. "You do know that I can't be bought over by money?"

"I know. And that's why I am entrusting you with this."

She shot him a final smile before exiting his office. He let out a sigh of relief. He had secured everything for his family. Otherwise, all the hawks with their eyes on the House Ashstone's assets would attack without mercy the moment they got the chance in Vyan's absence.

It wasn't just necessary for Leila's premonition; it was truly urgent, in mind that the future was always uncertain.

Now that he was done with all these…

"Mhmm, what should I get as a wedding gift for Clyde and Thea?"