Ascension Of The Villain

Althea let out a hollow laugh. "Oh, stop it. Don't try and act like a saint. If there had to be one person in this entire world who valued family less than me, that would have to be you, Easton."

"I genuinely don't have any idea what you mean, Thea. Obviously, I value family—"

Althea laughed more, the sound still lacking mirth. As she met Easton's genuinely confused gaze, her laughter seized and her eyes sharpened coldly. "Please don't make me sick with that act of yours. You know what?" She turned away her head, prepared to leave. "I can't bear to look at you anymore—"

Easton grabbed her arm, his grip tight and determined to not let her go. "No, you have to tell me! What is it that makes you hate me so much that you would conspire against your own younger brother?"

Althea's eyes flared with a mix of fury and long-buried hurt as she yanked her hand out of his. "Are you messing with me right now?" she asked, her voice deadly calm, as she could feel her anger boiling over, years of pent-up resentment finally resurfacing.

"I am not," Easton responded strongly. "Thea, I-I think there is some sort of misunderstanding—"

"There is no misunderstanding!" she finally shouted, her overwhelming emotions betraying her as she turned around to face him head-on.

He froze. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, his usual cool arrogance momentarily replaced with confusion. It had been a long time since Althea had been angered like this to the point she raised her voice. He thought that she had reigned in her terrible hot temper over the years. But as it turns out it was his misconception.

It was just that Althea had buried her emotions so deep underneath after that unfortunate incident that she no longer felt anything at all. Now that she was experiencing all sorts of positive emotions, her buried negativity was also starting to leak out.

"You don't know, huh? Let me jog your memory then." Althea took a step closer, her eyes burning into his with a searing intensity. "Do you remember that day, seven years ago, when I came back home after almost eloping with that scoundrel?"

"How can I forget?"

"And what about the first thing you said to me when I came back? Do you remember that?" she demanded, her eyes blazing in a way that scared him to the bones.

Easton composed himself nonetheless and shook his head. "No, Thea. I don't remember. But I am sure it wasn't anything significant—"

"Of course! Of course, it wasn't significant to you! Why would it be?!" she snapped, cutting him off. "Because I never was significant enough for you!" And with that, the dam broke. All her emotions came pouring out.

"When I returned, broken and terrified on the worst day of my entire life, all you could say was…" She saw the blank, unaware look on his face and shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "You told me that… that Father would be disappointed in me!" She slapped her hand over her chest, as if to emphasize where exactly it stabbed after hearing those words.

"That's… that's all you said," she breathed out, her throat trembling. "You didn't bother to ask if I was okay, didn't care if I was hurt…" Her eyes started to turn red, tears brimming the corners which she refused to let down. "I mean, why would you? You were too busy being ashamed of me, after all."

Her words seemed to pierce him, and she watched as the realization dawned on him, his mouth opening and closing like he was struggling to find words. "Thea, I—"

"You must have thought what an embarrassment I was, right? Look, I am not justifying my dumb teenage actions, but couldn't I have expected a little bit of sympathy from my brother? Didn't I deserve to have you ask me, what made me do that? Why did I feel the need to run away from our home? Was I hurt? Was I neglected?

Was I okay?"

The words continued to flow, wanting to get everything off her chest, desperately hoping that it eased the nagging uneasiness in her chest ever since she became the crown princess.

"But not once did you ask me all those things. Not once…" she uttered, broken. "Not even on that day when I was hoping—not even expecting, Easton. All I did was hope. Hoped that you would finally show me some care. But… what a fool I was, wasn't I?

I was hoping for something impossible, after all. And when that realization sank in, I made the decision to hit the nail on the coffin that was called our siblinghood."

"What?" His eyes widened in disbelief.

"Yes, that's right. That was the day I decided you were dead to me," she continued, her voice raw with the hurt she had buried deep inside for so long. "You were my brother, Easton. I was willing to accept that Father would always treat me like I was invisible, but you—" Her voice wavered, but she pushed on, her words gaining strength with each syllable.

"To know from you that the first reaction I would get from our father was disappointment? That broke me. Even if the whole ordeal hadn't already shattered me, that did."

Easton's face fell, and Althea couldn't care what he was feeling at that moment because she surely knew it wasn't going to restore their past. It was too late now, anyway.

"Thea, I... I didn't realize—" he began, his tone softening. "I cared—of course, I cared. I just thought—"

All explanations were meaningless now. So, she raised a hand, cutting him off, her expression hardening. "I don't care what you thought, Easton. I don't care anymore. You never checked on me all these years, and that's that. I don't think there can be anything that you can use to justify why you treated me like that.

So, save your breath. I don't want to hear it. I am done begging for any scrap of care from you as a family."

Easton looked genuinely shaken, but he couldn't seem to find the words.

"But you know what? As the wise people say, when one door closes, another one opens up," Althea added, a smile starting to form on her face. "When I thought that I wasn't good enough for living, that nobody would care if I disappeared from this world, I was saved by a very small, almost insignificant act of kindness—one that I would be eternally grateful for until the day I die."

Easton stared at her silently.

"It was Katelyn," Althea revealed. "A three-year-old child. She could see my pain that you couldn't bother to glance at," she taunted. "Anyway, she doesn't remember now what she did for me, but I do. She asked me all those things I hoped for you to ask. Back then, she didn't understand the toxicity that revolved around us half-siblings.

So, she was quite at ease with me as she sweetly asked me if I was okay. And even though she didn't understand what love was, she told me that she loved me and that she wouldn't want me to disappear, because if I did, she would only be left with three brothers and no sister."

Her eyes welled up with tears as she recalled the fond memory—the words that had brought back her will to live, to fight back, to avenge.

"Is that why you are so obsessed with winning Katelyn over?" Easton asked, his voice small.

Althea nodded curtly. "I am sure you must have thought it was also a political move on my part." She rolled her eyes. "But you are wrong. I genuinely like Katelyn, and that was why I was sure that the woman who raised her, Empress Celeste, couldn't be bad, nor could Ronan. So, in a way, I guess I have to thank you, Easton, for letting me understand that blood relations don't matter.

It's what is inside one's heart that counts. Unfortunately, yours is hollow. And that's the reason you have lost your fiancée and your crown both."

Easton stood there, utterly speechless. The shock on his face was almost pitiful.

"Thea…" he whispered, almost as if he were realizing for the first time the gravity of his actions—or lack thereof.

But Althea wasn't listening anymore. She wasn't interested. She had said all she needed to say.

Without giving him a chance, she turned away from him, her chest heaving with a mixture of relief and lingering pain.

For years, she had wanted him to understand, to see the weight of his indifference, but now, as she looked at him, she realized she no longer cared for his acknowledgment. She had grown past it, past him.

She no longer wanted the crown just for the sake of taking it away from him. She now wanted it to rule their empire with a benevolent, understanding heart that was capable of understanding human emotions. And as proven, Easton wasn't very good at that.

While he would make a good tactical emperor, he would be absolutely disastrous at considering the feelings of their subjects and would be giving death sentences left and right. He was too brutal and emotionless, after all. He knew no mercy.

And now that Althea had the chance, she would do her best—to mold their empire into a better, more empathetic, and happier place for living. She wanted to prove that the imperial purification magic ability wasn't the only thing required to be the emperor.

It was the heart of the ruler that was needed.

So, while Althea's way of achieving the crown might be crooked, her heart was in the right place.

Watching as Althea walked away from him, the light in Easton's eyes dimmed, unable to move from his spot, as if he was rooted there. Althea's words echoed in his mind, each one striking like a lash.

"How… how could she say all that when all my life I have worked hard only to protect her?"

She had no idea how wrong she was. It wasn't that he hadn't cared. No, he had cared too much. That was the problem. Back then, he had been young, overwhelmed by the immense weight of responsibility that had fallen onto his shoulders after their mother's death. He had promised her, as she lay dying, that he would protect Althea—that he would make sure his sister would have a comfortable, carefree life.

And he had tried, hadn't he? Worked himself to the bone, shouldered every burden, navigated the treacherous waters of court politics, all so Althea wouldn't have to. He wanted her to live freely, away from the constant machinations and power struggles.

But in doing so, he had inadvertently created a chasm between them. He had forgotten to voice out his intentions.

And now, Althea herself wanted to engage in the political battles that he struggled his whole life to protect her from.

Communication sure is important, huh.