Ascension Of The Villain

Late night draped its velvet cloak over the camp, the moonlight spilling like liquid silver over the lavish tents that sprawled in an orderly yet opulent fashion. Each tent was a small palace of its own, adorned with rich tapestries, golden candelabras, and plush bedding that seemed too grand for mere mortals.

Not far from this enclave of luxury, the dark forest loomed, its trees whispering secrets and promises of the hunt to come.

The nobles had retired after a sumptuous dinner, their laughter and the clinking of crystal glasses now just echoes in the night.

Inside one of the luxurious tents, Vyan was playing an intense round of chess with Ronan, while Clyde was roped into the Herculean task of teaching Katelyn the game's finer points.

"Ah, it is so confusing!" Katelyn groaned, her frustration was reaching its peak due to the chess pieces she kept misplacing. Clyde laughed lightly, trying to balance patience with the absurdity of the situation. "I can't remember them all!"

"It's alright. You will get used to it—"

"No, not just used to. I have to be good enough to beat those two," she whined, shooting a pointed look at Vyan and Ronan, who were oblivious to her struggles. "How dare none of them take me into their teams? I swear I will take my revenge on them," she declared, pumping her fist with the ferocity of a warrior pledging to conquer kingdoms.

"Then I shall do my best to make sure you can, Your Imperial Highness," Clyde assured her, his tone light yet earnest.

Katelyn's eyes blazed with determination as she concentrated on the chessboard, likely plotting the downfall of her future opponents with the intensity of a war general.

That was when Clyde heard a feminine voice outside, talking to Empress Celeste.

His ears perked up like a hound catching the scent of something far more interesting than a tedious chess lesson.

"I will be right back, Your Imperial Highness!" Clyde said in a rush, scrambling to his feet and darting out of the tent, leaving a bewildered Katelyn behind.

As soon as he stepped out of the tent, Clyde was met with the most breathtaking sight—Althea's silver hair glistening under the moonlight, her cheerful smile as bright as a summer's day.

It felt as though an arrow had pierced straight into his heart.

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So unfair. So utterly, beautifully unfair.

"...please, Your Majesty, I don't have anyone—" Althea's eyes fell on Clyde, and she stopped mid-sentence.

Clyde's gaze was fixed on her with one of the most adorable expressions she had ever seen, especially with his hair let down, looking soft and fuzzy from a late-night shower.

"Thea?" Celeste called out softly, following Althea's gaze. She glanced between the two and suppressed a knowing grin. "Ah, I think it's about time I retire to bed." She patted Althea's shoulder, the mischief barely contained in her eyes. "I will see you tomorrow, okay, Thea? Goodnight."

"Huh? But Your Majesty—" Althea's senses snapped back as she watched Celeste retreat with a wave.

Celeste disappeared into the tent, leaving Clyde and Althea alone on the slightly chilly porch.

"Um, hello, Your Imperial Highness," Clyde greeted, his voice tinged with nervousness. "It has been a while."

"Yeah, you are right," Althea nodded, a touch of awkwardness in her voice. "I should get back to my tent—"

"Why are you avoiding me?" Clyde blurted out, his words hanging in the cool night air before she could turn around.

Althea froze, anxiety clawing at her chest. She had no idea ignoring a particular existence could be so hard. "Uh, no, I am not?"

Clyde chuckled, a sound both warm and heart-wrenching, and took a step closer to her, making her heart pound. "Why are you answering my question with another question?" he asked softly, his smile kind but tinged with an emotion she couldn't quite place.

"Huh? I am not, though," she mumbled, her eyes dropping to the ground, unable to maintain his gaze.

Clyde's smile faltered for a split second, his chest tightening painfully. But he masked it quickly, tilting his head as he studied her. "You know what? Don't worry about answering my question."

She glanced up, confusion etched on her face, meeting his eyes again. "Why?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching hers. "Because I want to talk to you, Althea. Just give me five minutes when the Monster Hunt Festival is over. There is something I want to tell you."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What…" she swallowed hard. "What do you want to tell me?"

He displayed her a grin. "To find out, you will have to wait till I win the trophy."

"You are going to win the trophy?" she asked, her tone a mix of surprise and skepticism.

"What, you think I can't?" he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I am much stronger than I look, you know?"

"Yeah, of course. You are Vyan's aide, so it's natural you are—"

"I am Clyde," he interrupted, his voice firm yet soft, catching her off-guard. "I am not just Vyan's aide."

She stared at him, bewildered. "I know that."

"Good. I was worried you might have forgotten," he laughed, a bitter edge hidden beneath his light-heartedness. "I hope you remember who I am and what I am like. Just in case, I should remind you: I am a very lovable person."

Despite herself, she chuckled. "Blowing your own trumpet?"

"There is no other option left," he shrugged, flashing her a smile that twisted her heart like a knife. "I won't bother you for the rest of the week, or at least, I will try to. Just remember to give me five minutes on the last day of the festival."

Althea sighed, her chest churning with a mix of emotions she couldn't fully understand. "Alright, five minutes."

Clyde's eyes softened, a mix of relief and sadness in them. "Thank you, Althea. That means a lot."

As Clyde walked back into the tent, Althea was left with a hollow, gnawing feeling in her chest, his words and expressions pressing down on her heart. She watched him disappear, feeling the impact of his presence linger long after he was gone.

———

Just as Clyde was about to step into the tent, the three eavesdroppers scrambled back to their seats with the elegance of startled squirrels, their faces a masterpiece of forced indifference.

Clyde eyed Vyan, Ronan, and Katelyn, letting out a dramatic sigh. "So, we are all going to pretend you weren't glued to the tent flaps?"

"In my defense, I tried to stop them. But you know Katelyn—" Vyan began, only to be cut off by Katelyn.

"Liar. You were the first one nose-deep in gossip," Katelyn retorted. "Ron and I just followed the scent of your curiosity."

Ronan nodded solemnly, like a monk caught sneaking snacks after fasting.

Celeste, lounging like the queen she was on her plush bed, chimed in, "I did attempt to suggest they give you privacy, but alas, they are incorrigible."

"I believe you, Your Imperial Majesty," Clyde replied with a wry smile at Celeste before turning a deadly glare on the trio, particularly Vyan. "Since you were all so eager to know, let's make it a slumber party! I will regale you with the epic saga of my tragic, one-sided love."

"Oh no, anything but that," Katelyn protested weakly, knowing she was caught with no escape.

"Here we go again," Vyan muttered, shaking his head hopelessly.

Clyde's grin turned wicked as he settled in, ready to drown them in every excruciating detail of his melodramatic heartbreak, complete with interpretive quotes and dramatic pauses.

———

Around the same time, Iyana arrived outside Vyan's tent. There was no light emanating from within, suggesting Vyan was either fast asleep or hadn't returned yet.

The latter seemed more likely since Vyan was not one to turn in early.

Iyana glanced at the pack of lavender incense in her hand and let out a disappointed sight.

Vyan couldn't sleep without them, and she wasn't sure if he had remembered to bring them. He often neglected such things, especially when he was busy. She didn't want him to miss out on a good night's sleep, especially with the upcoming festivities; he already had a weak immune system.

Maybe I should just leave them out here where he can notice—

Just then, the rustling of leaves caught her attention. Her face brightened.

"Vyan, I—" she began, but her words faltered as she saw the unexpected figure before her. "Your Imperial Highness?"

Easton's eyes hardened, his voice dropping low. "Iyana, what are you doing in front of another man's tent this late at night?"