Iyana was making her way to her room, still reeling from a 'what-just-happened' mont with Vyan, when she spotted Clyde heading towards Vyan's room. His face was a picture of worry and concern.
It wasn't hard to see why Clyde was so anxious. Iyana had overheard the maids discussing Vyan's frail health, a condition he had suffered from since childhood.
Wouldn't Vyan be more likely to confide in Clyde about why he was crying?
Curiosity gnawed at her, and she murmured, "I really want to know."
She shook her head, chastising herself. "No, no, you have no right to pry if he doesn't want to share yet. Stick to your principles, young lady."
So, deciding to abide by her morals, she waited for Clyde to erge. When he finally did, after what felt like an eternity, he was smiling and looked relieved.
Unknowingly, a smile spread across her face as well.
It seed like Vyan had opened up to Clyde. The idea that he talked about what he was going through, even if it wasn't to her, brought her comfort. She didn't need to be the one he confided in, as long as he had soone.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice Clyde approaching her until he was almost in front of her.
"Well, hello, Lady Iyana," Clyde's sudden, cheery voice cut through the silence, making her jump.
She quickly regained her composure, masking her surprise with practiced grace. "Hello, Clyde," she responded coolly, though her heart raced from the unexpected encounter.
"You have been loitering here for quite so ti. Care to head inside?" he suggested, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
Iyana felt a blush creep up her neck, embarrassed at being caught. Clyde must have spotted her lingering outside Vyan's room even before he headed inside.
"No, not really. I was just... passing ti," she lied, striving for nonchalance.
"Ah, so you are free then," Clyde said with mock innocence. "I am about to send a maid up with Vyan's dinner. Why don't you join him?"
"Dinner in his room?" Her eyes widened in shock. "Why would I do that?"
"Well, the poor fellow is sick," Clyde replied, adopting a tragic expression. "Soone needs to ensure he eats properly."
"And why can't you do that?" Iyana shot back, suspicion lacing her tone.
Clyde gasped dramatically, as if she had suggested sothing scandalous. "Do you have any idea how swamped I am because that idiot worked himself into a faint?"
She narrowed her eyes. "I am pretty sure Miss Freya handles his duties when he is indisposed—"
"Shush, shush, you overthink, my lady," Clyde interrupted, waving off her concerns. "Just join the maid when she brings dinner. For both of you."
"But—"
Before she could protest further, Clyde vanished, likely teleporting to the kitchen to inform the staff of his impromptu dinner plans.
Iyana stood there, fuming but reluctantly resigned to her fate.
She let out a long, exasperated sigh, rubbing her face. "Do I really have to go back in there after that?" she muttered, her cheeks heating up.
The thought of Vyan hugging her made her skin tingle all over again. His cold skin against her warm one...
She ran her hand up her arm, feeling the goosebumps rise. "Ugh, what am I going to do?"
She began pacing the hallway, completely losing track of ti until soft footsteps snapped her out of her frenzy. A maid arrived carrying two sets of dinner.
"My lady, aren't you coming?" asked Mia, the sa kind soul who had brought her clothes when she awkwardly used Vyan's bathroom.
"Oh, um, yeah," Iyana replied, sounding like a malfunctioning puppet.
"My lady, are you okay? Your face is flushed," Mia said, her tone laced with concern.
"Am I?" Iyana let out a laugh that sounded more like a squeak, making Mia gasp.
"Did Master Vyan get sick from a contagious disease? And is it possible you have caught it as well, my lady?" Mia speculated, her eyes wide with alarm.
Iyana shook her head frantically and ca up with so excuse, "No, no, nothing like that. It was just... hot in the hallway."
"Oh, I see." Mia let out a relieved sigh. "Maybe sumr has started its journey already," she remarked with a sweet smile.
Iyana plastered a smile on her face too, though she knew full well sumr was still hibernating and the chills of late spring were very much alive.
Mia knocked on the door politely, and Vyan's voice ca through, "Wait a minute, I am changing."
Instantly, the imagination of Vyan taking off his shirt flashed in Iyana's mind. Her face went redder than a tomato.
Oh, my God, am I a pervert? she scread internally.
"Co in now!" Vyan hollered, and Mia pushed the door open.
But Iyana stayed glued to her spot outside, still flustered from her own perverse thought.
"Pardon the intrusion, Master. I have brought your dinner and Lady Iyana's," Mia announced, striding over to the round table by the balcony doors.
"What now?" Vyan let out, clearly another unsuspecting victim of Clyde's whimsical machinations. "Why on earth would Iyana be having dinner with ?"
"Lord Clyde ntioned you requested it," Mia replied, her voice trailing off, as if trying to distance herself from Vyan's inevitable wrath.
"What—" he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Mia, how many tis do I have to tell everyone not to take Clyde seriously?"
"I will keep that in mind, Master, but you should know…" Mia hesitated, clearly well-trained under Clyde to navigate their master's whims. "Lady Iyana is already waiting outside the door."
Vyan glanced towards the door, just as Iyana decided to make her entrance.
"Hello," she mumbled sheepishly, "It's again."
"Oh," Vyan stamred, a hint of embarrassnt coloring his cheeks as if the clarity of their earlier encounter finally hit him. "Um, Iyana, my apologies for whatever nonsense Clyde must have spouted. You are free to join only if you are comfortable."
Iyana took a deep breath, trying to appear composed. "It's alright. I have no problem with it."
And so, began what would undoubtedly be the most awkward dinner of their lives.
The silence was almost deafening, and the room felt unusually hot, almost as if Mia's words were true and sumr had already arrived.
Vyan didn't initiate any conversation from his side, seemingly lost in his own fallacy. So, Iyana didn't try, either.
However, as she took small, deliberate bites of her food, she couldn't help but steal glances at the man across from her.
That little scar on his forehead is kind of cute, is the thought that started her thorough observation.
I never noticed this before, but… She found herself thinking, her lips parting slightly. He is… sowhat handso. No, not just sowhat. Very. He is, in fact, criminally handso.
"Are you planning to burn holes into my face, or is this so kind of military habit?" Vyan's voice cut through her thoughts, looking at her with obvious amusent.
"Huh? No!" she huffed, her cheeks flushing as she stared down at her soup. "I was just noticing how pale you look."
"Sure, I buy that," he smirked, clearly unconvinced.
"Really!" she insisted, desperately trying to salvage her dignity. "Your ghost-like complexion is a bit unsettling."
"Well, excuse for not being in my best health. Should I apply so costics to add a bit of color?" he quipped.
"Why don't you just use magical spells instead? That will be much easier for you to apply than costics—" she retorted, before realizing what she had let slip.
Her eyes widened, and cue the dramatic music as the spoon ca loose from her fingers and thud against the floor.
Reviews
All reviews (0)