Capítulo 21: Gullible Superstitions

As Vyan swung his sword with all the elegance of a dodo trying to tap dance, Clyde paced back and forth like a stressed-out meerkat.

"I am telling you, I am pulling out all the stops if you so much as nick yourself," Clyde fretted.

"Wow, since when did you become the picture of a fussy mother hen?" Vyan retorted, rolling his eyes.

"Since Benedict decided to indoctrinate me into the Aide Academy of Worrywarts," Clyde lamented.

Vyan couldn't help but chuckle.

"You are only able to laugh now because you don't have the manual for every possible duel disaster."

"Well, do you?"

"No, but—"

"Then, here's a tip: ditch the 'Annoying Aide' persona and get back to being your usual carefree self. It suits you better," Vyan advised, earning a begrudging nod from Clyde.

Just then, Theodore emerged. "Are you two ready?"

Vyan nodded confidently and said, "Absolutely," which made Clyde wonder where in the world was that confidence coming from. "Please let's start. Clyde here is ready to wring his hands into oblivion."

Clyde shot him a glare, but couldn't help but crack a smile.

Theodore squared up with Vyan, ready to call the shots. Vyan gripped his sword tightly, prepared to unleash his inner warrior, wobbly or not.

"I will give the signal to start—" Clyde began, only to be cut off as Theodore dramatically tossed his sword aside.

"This duel is done," Theodore declared. "I have seen enough. You are not Young Lord Vyan."

"How can you know that without even fighting me?" Vyan protested, dropping his own weapon in frustration.

"Easy," Theodore explained, pointing at Vyan's right hand. "Young Lord Vyan uses his left hand to wield his sword. I taught him that myself."

"But I am left-handed too! I just cannot bear to insult the sword by wielding it in my left hand," Vyan argued, genuinely perplexed.

Theodore and Clyde exchanged a glance, trying to process Vyan's logic.

"Who filled your head with that nonsense?" Theodore deadpanned.

"Yeah, seriously, that's a load of hogwash," Clyde added, shaking his head in disbelief.

Vyan blinked in confusion. "But... but that's what they taught us at Knight Academy! And the swordmaster at House Estelle said—"

Theodore cut him off with a sigh. "Kid, you have been bamboozled by some seriously misinformed folks."

Clyde facepalmed so hard it sounded like a drumbeat. "No wonder you claimed to suck at sword fighting. You were swinging that thing with your weaker arm!"

"Exactly! You would have never gotten good wielding it like that," Theodore agreed with Clyde, the two of them now in sync after browbeating until now.

"I did not realize you were so easily duped by old wives' tales, my lord," Clyde snickered, barely able to contain his laughter.

"He has been swallowing superstitions like candy since he was a toddler," Theodore lamented, shaking his head. "He used to believe if he wore red during a storm, he would get hit by lightning. And don't get me started on his fear of black cats and broken mirrors."

"What's wrong with that?" Vyan piped up, actually puzzled. "I have always lived by those rules. I mean, I never wear red during a storm just in case, you know?"

Clyde and Theodore exchanged a look, both wondering how they ended up with such a clueless master of the house.

Theodore's stern facade softened into a delicate smile as he gently said, "Young Lord Aster told you those silly things to get a reaction out of you."

The revelation that his cherished beliefs were nothing more than a ploy from his past stung, but it also brought a sense of clarity. For deep within him, though the memories had faded into the mists of time, the echoes of those superstitions still lingered, etched into the very fabric of his being.

"So that means seeing my face first thing in the morning won't bring me bad luck? Because it happened to me this morning, and I have been scared since then," he asked sheepishly.

Theodore's chuckle was warm as he drew closer, enveloping Vyan in a reassuring embrace. "No, my lord," he murmured gently. "You are safe now. I will shield you from harm with all I have."

A small smile tugged at Vyan's lips, the weight on his heart lifting ever so slightly.

"I will inform the Order of Phoenix. They will flock back to the manor once they hear of your return," Theodore promised, his voice carrying a hint of pride, "You have grown up so nicely, they will be so happy to see you."

"Thank you, Sir Jacques," Vyan whispered gratefully, a sense of resolve settling within him.

Finally, Vyan had all the people he needed by his side for the wars he was going to spark in the future.

Before his debut, he had shortlisted two things: gathering allies and honing his skills. The first one was done, and the latter was steadily progressing. It would not be too long before he can actually start acting on his vengeance and finally have a night of peaceful sleep.

Just wait a little longer, Iyana.

———

"Vice-commander Estelle, are you out of your mind? Are you aware of how dangerous this could be?" Easton's tone dripped with concern, his gaze fixed on the incredulous papers she had placed before him.

"Yes, Your Imperial Highness," Iyana responded, her voice lacking any emotions.

"Please tell me you are joking," he demanded, looking up at her.

"Yes, I am absolutely joking," she deadpanned, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Because submitting myself to certain peril is exactly my idea of a joke."

Easton's hand ran through his hair, his brow furrowing in frustration. "If you go join this operation, you do know that our wedding has to be postponed by at least one and a half years, right?"

"Oh, really? I had not considered that," she replied, her tone dry as desert sand. "Thank you for enlightening me, Your Highness. I was so looking forward to the white dress and floral arrangements. It's too bad that I cannot go through with them at the moment."

"Iyana, I am being serious here, please!" Easton almost snapped, raising his voice.

"So am I," she answered flatly, not at all fazed by the temper that made every other person cower before Easton.

He let out a huff, his frustration peaking. "Our wedding aside, have you considered the fact you might die?"

"Well, isn't that just the cherry on top?" Iyana quipped. "Nothing like a little brush with death to spice up the pre-wedding jitters."

"That's… that's not the issue," Easton stumbled over his words, helplessness evident in his tone. "Our fathers are going to have my head if I issue this. They are going to drive me crazy for agreeing to postpone," he reasoned.

"I am sure they will understand," she shrugged, her sarcasm biting as she added, "After all, delaying our wedding is a small price to pay for the greater good of our empire, right?"

"What am I going to tell them if they directly ask me why I let you go?"

"Well, to be honest, I did not think Your Imperial Highness would notice my name among the hundreds of candidate names. I was hoping to leave without informing you," she admitted.

"Well, isn't that just my luck," Easton muttered, his exasperation mounting. "Why do you want to go on this operation? The situation in Ganlop is really bad. You are asking for death, if you are not an aura knight."

"Because I am bored and nothing says 'fun' to me like dodging enemy fire in a war zone. Truly, I cannot wait to risk life and limb for a cause I barely understand."

Easton's response came with a touch of sarcasm as well this time, "Well, couldn't you have waited for that the adventure of a lifetime until our wedding? Perhaps, I might have joined if you were going later."

"You are most welcome to join me even now," she responded.

"Please, Iyana, be serious."

Iyana sighed and said, "Look, I may not have achieved aura yet, but I am pretty sure I could take down a horde of enemy soldiers with my eyes closed. So, Your Imperial Highness, unless you want those Harberlanders knocking at your castle gates, I suggest you approve my application."

"But—"

"Please, don't worry about me, Your Imperial Highness. I am just a humble soldier willing to sacrifice myself for the greater good," she reasoned, a hint of dramatics visible in her tone. "Heaven forbid you show favoritism just because we are engaged. That would be so unlike you, wouldn't it?"

Easton rolled his eyes and reluctantly reached for his stamp. "Fine, fine. Don't say I never forbid you from charging towards your death." He stamped her papers with a flourish. "Now, scram before I change my mind, Iyana."

"How kind of you, Easton. Thank you."

With that, Iyana sauntered out, ready to forget about her heartthrob regarding Vyan through this war she was going to fight,