Chapter 99: His Childish Side
Iyana stifled a yawn, her eyes barely staying open as she leaned back in the plush velvet chair in Easton's office. The ornate clock on the wall ticked, each second of tiredness a reminder of the endless night she had spent talking to Vyan.
Easton stood by his mahogany desk, a stack of papers in his hands. His polished boots clicked softly against the marble floor as he paced, his gaze fixed on the documents before him.
He barely noticed her struggle to stay awake.
"Iyana, you don't need to return to work," Easton said, his tone as formal and cold as ever. "With the wedding just a month away, it is unnecessary for you to exert yourself. Your duties will change once we're married, and your focus should be on preparing for our future."
Iyana's stomach churned, her disinterest vanishing as his inconsiderate words cut through her. She fought to maintain a passive expression, but inside, she was seething.
It was maddening to think she was being asked to quit her job just when the promotion she had dreamed of for so long was within her hand's reach.
Even without her family's reputation to consider, she still couldn't just call off the wedding. It wasn't just anybody she was betrothed to. It was the Imperial Family of Haynes.
If she called off the wedding herself, she could kiss her career goodbye forever. Obviously, she was stuck between a cliff and a hard place, with no escape in sight.
One would assume Easton would abandon her after her family's fall from grace, yet here he was, stubbornly holding on. Maybe he truly did like her, to some extent.
"I shall do so," Iyana responded curtly.
"That's great—"
"After the Monster Hunt Festival ends," she interjected, her tone firm. "Until then, I would like to resume working."
Easton's brows furrowed as he finally looked up at her. "Iyana, what is the point? You will be the crown princess soon. You should take this time to relax—"
"Your Imperial Highness, I like working. It is what relaxes me," she spoke up, meeting his gaze sharply. "Practicing with my sword every morning, sparring with my colleagues, investigating, solving cases, and ending the day knowing I worked hard—these are the things I love."
Easton froze, the realization that he had offended her hitting him like a brick. His cold demeanor vanished, replaced by a frantic expression. "Iyana, I didn't mean it that way—"
"It's alright, Your Imperial Highness," she cut in, her voice softer but no less resolute. "I will officially hand in my resignation to Commander Pembrooke after the Monster Hunt Festival ends. I will end my career, as you wish," she whispered the last part, almost to herself, the weight of her words sinking in.
"Iyana, I promise those things you mentioned will not be the only things you love. Once you give me a chance," Easton said, summoning all his courage. "I will do my best to make you happy—"
A bitter chuckle escaped her, echoing throughout the room. "Do your best to make me happy?" Her gaze bore into his, almost sending chills down his spine. "Then, can you let go of me?"
His breath hitched, his eyes widening. He averted his gaze, his shoulders slumping. "I am sorry, that is the only thing I cannot do."
"I thought so," she smiled bitterly, standing up. "I guess we are done here then. I shall get going."
As she turned away, Easton spoke up, "You keep victimizing yourself, but it was you who agreed to this marriage in the first place."
Iyana paused, glancing over her shoulder with a wry smile. What she said was not the reply he was expecting.
"I know, right? I wish I could remember what could have forced me to agree to my own doom."
Despite the devastated look on Easton's face, Iyana turned back and walked away.
Easton was right. She did keep victimizing herself when she was the one who agreed to this marriage, no matter what the reason might have been. It wasn't fair to him. But she didn't want to give him a chance to make a place in her heart when she knew it would eventually open up a world of pain.
Even today, Easton had barely looked at her in the beginning. His attention was on some work, despite her being in the same room. Just like this, he would always prioritize his work over her.
These things might have hurt her if she had let her feelings be swayed by his occasional acts of kindness, like bringing those huge arrays of flowers. But most of the time, he was cold like this.
So yes, while it might be terrible of her to keep shutting him down when it was obvious he had feelings for her, it was only her way of protecting herself.
As Iyana strolled through the palace hallways, her thoughts wandered, her heart heavy.
She didn't notice she had crossed into the connecting hallway leading from Aurora Palace to the Crystal Palace until a chorus of giggles and claps snapped her out of her trance.
Her eyes found the source of the commotion: a courtyard where a young girl, about ten, held a bow, flanked by two boys on either side. A target was set up, but the arrow was comically far from it.
"That was a great effort, Kate," Ronan said, clapping with a supportive smile.
"Is this the first time you have shot an arrow?" Vyan asked, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.
"No," Katelyn mumbled, looking down at her feet.
"Well, it sure felt like it," Vyan teased. "Were you aiming for the moon?"
"Take it easy, Vyan. Actually, this is the first time her arrow even hit the target," Ronan interjected diplomatically, defending his sister. "Clearly, your teaching skills are unparalleled."
"Yeah, well, I am not coming every day to teach this brat how to shoot an arrow," Vyan declared.
Katelyn looked up at her older brother with pleading eyes, her lower lip trembling in the classic look of a ten-year-old on the verge of tears.
Just as Ronan was about to open his mouth to defend her again, Vyan cut him off. "Oh, don't start with your case for this girl again. You are spoiling her."
"Ron is not spoiling me!" Katelyn protested, her tiny fists clenched. "He's just a nice person, unlike you!" thanks for reading on m|v|l|e|m|p|y|r
"Oh, yeah? If he's such a nice person, why don't you learn anything from him?" Vyan shot back, a smirk playing on his lips.
Ronan, the fifteen-year-old peacemaker, stepped in, sighing heavily. "Please, stop, you two. What would people think if they heard you? Think of your ranks, if not for common decency."
Iyana chuckled softly to herself, watching the three of them bicker. She hadn't realized Vyan was so close to his cousins; it was an amusing sight. This was a different side of him—so childish and unadulterated, not filled with his usual manipulative schemes.
Just then, their banter was interrupted by a male voice. "May I join you?"
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