Chapter 241: What Destroys Him?
Clyde glanced at her, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more serious. "She must have been. For her kids, no doubt," he replied, his voice soft but certain.
Althea halted abruptly, causing Clyde to stop a step ahead of her. Her eyes flared wide, a sudden realization sparking through her. "Wait—have I even seen Katelyn and Ronan since this morning?" she demanded, her voice sharp with rising panic.
They locked eyes, the unspoken tension snapping between them like a taut wire, their expressions mirroring the same dreadful understanding.
———
"Wife?" Easton\'s voice was laced with cold amusement, his lips curving into a mocking smile. "You are no wife of mine. Not when I don\'t even remember marrying you."
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Sienna\'s saccharine smile didn\'t falter as she stepped closer, eyes gleaming with an unsettling mix of seduction and threat. "Oh, but that\'s only because you don\'t want to accept it," she purred, her tone dripping with feigned innocence. "You married me, Easton, fully aware of what you were doing. Or did the witnesses just hallucinate?"
He scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. "I don\'t accept you. Not as my wife. Not as anything."
Her lips twisted, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Is it because I am not Iyana? Does it bother you that much?" She reached out, fingers grazing his jaw. "I can give you so much more than her, Easton. So much more than she ever—"
His hand shot up, smacking hers away with disdain. "Don\'t touch me." His voice was ice, but the anger simmered beneath it. "You couldn\'t even do the one thing I asked. And now you stand here, spouting this garbage?"
Sienna\'s smile wavered for the briefest moment, her eyes flashing before she recovered. "I did what I could—"
"You murdered a man!" Easton\'s voice cracked like a whip. "You killed someone to frame Ashstone, and then you had the nerve to kidnap my siblings and have me threaten their mother to keep her quiet! If you were so hell-bent on pulling off that pathetic plan, you should have been smart enough not to leave him a damn alibi!"
Sienna\'s expression darkened, the sweet mask she wore slipping to reveal the malice beneath. "We weren\'t aiming just to imprison Vyan, Easton. You wanted to expose his magic—in front of your father, no less."
"And that has worked out brilliantly, hasn\'t it?" he snarled, his frustration boiling over. "The man walked free today! All thanks to your incompetence."
Her smile returned, sharp and sinister, a wicked gleam flickering in her eyes. "Then call him back. He has been ordered to stay within the capital, hasn\'t he? Summon him for an interrogation. We will make sure this time, there is no slipping away."
Easton stared at her, his fists clenched at his sides. There was something unsettling in the way her voice dripped with satisfaction, something that twisted in his gut.
———
Althea and Clyde scanned the garden area of the Ivory Palace, their breaths ragged. For a moment, the silence of the moonlit garden seemed eerie. Then, just beyond the manicured hedges, they spotted two small figures sprawled out on the grass.
"There—Ronan and Katelyn!" Althea gasped, rushing forward, her heart pounding in her chest. Clyde was right behind her.
As they reached the children, both dropped to their knees, fear tightening their throats. But then, a slow, fragile sigh of relief escaped them both.
The kids were unconscious—but breathing.
Their small chests rose and fell steadily, untouched by the violence they feared.
"They are okay… they are okay…" Althea pressed her hand to her mouth, her fingers trembling slightly. "Clyde, whoever we are dealing with, they are no joke," she muttered, but there was a hard edge to it now, like a vow for vengeance forming beneath the surface.
Clyde\'s gaze darkened as he placed a gentle hand on Ronan\'s shoulder, as if to assure himself the boy was real and alive. "You are right," he said quietly, his eyes narrowing as he looked around the garden, taking in every shadow, every rustling leaf. "Someone who doesn\'t even hesitate to mess with kids\' lives."
"Who do you think it might be?" she whispered.
Clyde\'s jaw tightened. "Vyan thinks it\'s Prince Easton behind all this."
Althea froze for a moment, her expression shifting from disbelief to something colder, more determined. "There is no way Easton could do something like this," she replied firmly. "He may be ruthless—hell, sometimes downright heartless—but he doesn\'t play these sneaky, mind games. That\'s not like him."
She stood, brushing a few stray leaves off her dress before looking down at the unconscious children, the sight of their peaceful faces twisting something deep inside her. "Easton would face his enemies head-on. He is arrogant like that, not… this," she added, waving her hand toward the eerie scene around them.
"These things—framing Vyan, kidnapping Ronan and Katelyn, threatening their mother—feel like someone far more evil."
Clyde nodded, but his eyes were still clouded with doubt. "Then who? If it\'s not Easton, who has the power and the nerve to pull something like this under our noses?"
Althea crossed her arms, biting her lip in thought, but her gaze was distant. "More importantly, what is their purpose? Surely, they have to know that a grand duke wouldn\'t be punished for something as measly as murder. He can easily buy his way out of it."
"They have to be aiming for something more than making Vyan serve jail time…" Clyde trailed off. "So, what would be something that totally destroys Vyan?"
Althea licked her bottom lip, trying to think, when an idea surfaced. "Hey, did Vyan have to take off his accessories when he was put into quarantine yesterday?"
"No," he let out. "They just confiscated his magical pouch, and I guess, anything else that might be used as a weapon."
She gasped. "That person must be looking to expose Vyan\'s abilities!"
———
As soon as Clyde stepped out of the palace, he teleported to Vyan\'s office in the secondary Ashstone residence, but he was nowhere to be seen. He ran around, urgency propelling his every step.
Bursting into the grand hall, he scanned the place and locked eyes on a maid.
"Where is His Grace?" Clyde asked with a strain of fear just beneath the surface.
The maid hesitated, clutching the edge of her apron as her eyes darted around, as though unsure if she should speak. "Just a while ago, a few military officials came to take him, sir," she said shakily. "They said it was urgent."
The words hit Clyde like a punch to the gut as he muttered under his breath, "Fuck."