Ascension Of The Villain

As Clyde finally managed to stop coughing, he wiped the remaining tears from his eyes. His face was still flushed from the heat of the spices.

Althea hovered nearby, her expression a mix of concern and guilt. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice gentle as she handed him another glass of water.

Clyde nodded, though his throat was still burning. "Yeah, I think I will survive," he croaked, offering a weak smile. "Though, I might need a few days to recover my taste buds."

Althea winced. "I am so sorry, Clyde. I should have known Vyan was up to no good. I can't believe I fell for his prank."

Clyde chuckled, though it was a bit shaky. "It's alright. Honestly, I think I know why he did this. He probably just wanted to diffuse the awkwardness between us. I mean, I tend to get hysterical when my mouth is burning."

"Well, I mean, you could have been a tad bit calmer—"

Their gazes locked, and for a split second, everything was still. Then, as if on cue, they both burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the room like music.

"Seriously, what were we thinking, forgetting that magic exists?" Althea gasped between giggles. "It wasn't until you were practically turning into a fire-breathing dragon that I remembered."

Somewhere between Clyde's frantic gulps of water, Althea had finally snapped her fingers, conjuring up bread and milk. And to think, she had almost drowned him in uncountable glasses of water before recalling the simple solution.

Once the laughter subsided, the atmosphere was lighter, the awkward tension gone, replaced by a comfortable warmth. It felt like the perfect moment for Althea to speak up—but Clyde beat her to it, his smile widening.

"So, uh, could I have those five minutes I asked for?" he asked, standing up from his chair with an easy grace that made Althea's pulse quicken.

She nodded, too curious—and maybe a little eager—to refuse. Clyde faced her, his bright eyes sparkling with something that made Althea's heart do a little dance.

"To start with," he began, his voice soft yet steady, "I should probably confess something. The first time I saw you at the palace garden during Vyan's ascension soirée… I fell for you at first sight."

Althea's heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat at his admission.

"It was the first time I truly fell in love, and I had no idea what was the right thing to do, except do my best to impress you. Before I met you, sure, I had had my share of encounters with the ladies, but it was never love. So—"

Althea raised an eyebrow at the mention of 'ladies,' and he couldn't help but chuckle. "Okay, just so you know, my 'frivolous' days were way back in the past—like, before I even joined the Tower of Magic. And I would like to clarify that I am not proud of it. I was a dumb teenager, and trust me, I heavily regret those days."

She rolled her eyes, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips, giving him the green light to continue.

"Anyway, as I was saying," he went on, his tone growing more earnest, "Althea, you are my first love, and I had no clue what to do with that. At first, I was completely overwhelmed. I probably tried way too hard and ended up making a fool of myself," he laughed, a little self-conscious. "But that's something I don't regret. Not for a second. Because I know I was sincere.

And, well, I do tend to go a bit overboard for the people I love. Whatever. The point is, Althea, I am madly in love with you."

Althea's eyes grew misty. "What... what do you even love about me?" A soft, almost whiny note crept in as she added, "And how does love at first sight even work?"

He couldn't help but laugh, thoroughly amused. "Well, how do I explain? Love at first sight is something like when you see someone, and every fiber of your being just screams that this… this is the person you have been looking for your entire life. And that's exactly what happened to me."

He gently took her hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "My instincts have always been pretty strong, so I knew right away that," his lips curved into a gentle, loving smile, "you were the one for me."

"And as for what I love about you," he continued, his eyes never leaving hers, "the answer is… everything. But if you are looking for specifics, I would have to say your true smile. The way you are so strong-willed, brave, kind, and completely aware of what you want. I love how you kept honing your healing skills, even when no one in your family seemed to value them.

And I am sure I would fall in love with every other side of you that I don't know of yet."

His hand gently cupped her cheek as he asked, "So, if you would give me one chance, I would like to know you more and give you all the love that you deserve."

Althea tried to speak, but her throat felt like sandpaper. "Water… could I get some?" she croaked.

Clyde's smile widened, filled with warmth and affection. "Of course," he said softly, quickly bringing her a glass of water.

She took a few grateful sips, feeling the cool liquid soothe her dry throat. Finally able to speak, she said, "Before I give you an answer, there is something you need to know about my past."

Clyde's expression didn't waver. "I don't think anything could change my mind, but if it helps you feel better, I am all ears." He gestured toward the table. "Why don't we sit down?" With a nod from Althea, he conjured up an extra chair, his magic effortless and smooth.

As they sat, Althea began to open up, sharing her past, her insecurities, and all the reasons she was afraid to fall in love. The words came slowly at first, but soon, they tumbled out in a rush, as if she had been holding them back for far too long. She went into more details than she had with Vyan, spilling everything she could think of.

She didn't realize when the tears started to fall until Clyde's fingers brushed gently against her cheek, wiping them away. "That must have been so hard to deal with on your own," he said quietly, his voice filled with empathy.

Althea nodded, her eyes fixed on her lap, unable to meet his gaze. Her heart felt heavy with doubt, wondering if Clyde would walk away now that he knew the truth.

But then Clyde spoke, and his words caught her completely off guard. "I don't know why," he began, his tone surprisingly light, "but it weirdly makes me happy that we both made dumb mistakes in the past."

Althea blinked in astonishment, her gaze snapping up to meet his. "Huh?"

He laughed, a little sheepish, and continued, "I guess I was worried I was the only one with a messed-up past. But knowing you have made your share of mistakes too… I don't know, it just makes you more real, more human. And honestly, it makes me fall for you even harder."

Althea stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Was he serious? Here she was, baring her soul, and Clyde was… relieved?

Clyde noticed her bewildered expression and quickly added, "Obviously, I feel terrible that you went through something so awful. And I swear, if that man were still alive and I got my hands on him, it would have been his last day on this planet."

Althea couldn't help it—she burst out laughing, the heaviness in her chest lifting.

Suddenly, all her worries felt so trivial. She had spent so long fearing that no man would accept her because of her past, keeping everyone at arm's length and rejecting every marriage proposal without a second thought.

But maybe, just maybe, everything had led her to Clyde for a reason.

Clyde cleared his throat, his eyes twinkling with affection as he asked, "So, how about we talk more? Skip the night festivities, grab something to eat, and go somewhere else?"

Althea was grateful for the way he didn't ask her questions regarding her feelings for him yet, because she did just admit that she was scared. So even if she had all these love symptoms, it was not quite as easy to accept that love. And she was happy that he understood it.

So, Althea's smile matched his as she responded, "Sounds perfect."

———

Vyan wandered through the open space under the night sky, searching for a particular gray-haired male he called his best friend, but the elusive figure was nowhere to be found.

"My lord," Spencer's voice rang out from a table crowded with members of the Order of Phoenix, "aren't you getting anything to drink?"

After indulging in exquisite dishes prepared by professional chefs for dinner, it was now time for the men's drinking festival—a tradition akin to how soldiers always celebrated with booze after a successful battle or war.

Vyan approached their table and said, "I can't hold my liquor very well, you know." The truth was, he only ever got drunk within the safe confines of his estate, where the chances of making a fool of himself were minimal. "So, I think I will skip—"

"Oh, come on! You have to drink! It's tradition!" Spencer insisted, his words already starting to slur.

Vyan sighed, eyeing his vice-commander critically. "Whether I drink or not, you should definitely stop. You are already way too hammered, Spence."

"He is drowning his sorrows. Let him," Theodore muttered from the farthest corner of the table, his head nestled comfortably on the wooden surface, clearly down for the count.

Vyan frowned. "What?" But Theodore was already snoring.

One of the knights leaned in, his voice low. "Your Grace, you see, they are both devastated over the loss of our five soldiers."

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