Ascension Of The Villain

"—I am telling you His Grace has already ordered you to do it," Freya repeated, her voice tight with frustration.

Lyon leaned against the stable door, an arrogant expression playing on his face. "And I am telling you I won't! Why don't you try and make me, huh?" His voice boomed, startling the horses, their anxious whinnies adding to the chaos.

Freya exhaled a heavy breath, her patice threadbare. "Please lower your voice and speak like a rational human being—"

"Rational?" Lyon's laugh was harsh and mocking. "Why should I be rational with someone like you?"

Freya's eyebrow shot up, offded. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

Lyon's eyes narrowed, his sneer deeping. "Do you think I didn't ever see you working at that bar? Before you were all dressed up like a dect lady, you used to be just a barmaid."

Her face harded.

"I have had ough of this. I am going to inform His Grace about your insubordination. Let's see how you like being whipped into shape," she declared, turning sharply on her heel.

She wasn't normally ashamed of her past. Because she knew what she did was to survive and bring food to the table for her family. But it was the contempt in Lyon's eyes that made her skin crawl.

"Go ahead, you whore," Lyon spat out.

Freya halted mid-step, anger surging through her veins. She slowly turned back, eyes blazing.

"So what if I was a barmaid?" she challged. "What matters is that right now you are a slave and I am a respected employee of this house."

Lyon's fists clched, his knuckles turning .

"Oh, and you understand hierarchy better than anything else, don't you?" she pointed out. "So in your words, I am your superior. Either treat me with respect or else—"

Before she could finish, Lyon's hand struck her face with a resounding slap. "Or else what, huh? What are you going to do about it?"

Freya's cheek stung, and for a momt, she saw red. The countless memories of being berated by m flashed through her mind, each one fueling her anger.

How long did she have to tolerate this? Th it hit her—I don't have to. Not anymore.

Vyan had giv her the permission to handle Lyon however she wanted.

Without a second thought, she slapped Lyon back with all the strgth she could muster.

The sound echoed through the stable, silcing ev the horses. Lyon's shocked expression was worth every ounce of pain in her cheek.

"You will never treat me like that again," Freya's voice was cold and steady. "Now, either you do as you are told, or His Grace will hear about your behavior. And trust me, I will make sure he knows every disgusting detail."

The utter look of shock on his face made her feel a sse of satisfaction.

"How dare you—" Lyon's roar was cut short by the sharp crack of a whip hitting the g.

"Step back from Freya," Vyan commanded, his voice deadly, "If you know what's good for you, Lyon."

Lyon flinched at the sight of the whip in Vyan's hand and reluctantly stepped back, his bravado faltering.

"Good," Vyan said, approaching slowly. "I have heard all the things you said to Freya on my way here," he stated.

Freya was confused about how Vyan got to know and th she noticed Jonathan behind him. Jonathan must have heard and se everything before running to Vyan.

"Vyan, everything is under control—" she tried, but Vyan gave her an assuring tap on the shoulder that made butterflies swirl in her stomach.

"It may be under control now, but someone clearly deserves some punishmt for misbehaving earlier," he stated, stopping beside Freya.

"I have to hand it to you, Lyon. You are bold, like really bold. Daring to hurt my precious subordinate within my vicinity?" he arched a mocking eyebrow. "Tch, big mistake."

Vyan's gaze turned cold and merciless as he looked over at Lyon. "Now kneel and beg for forgivess from Freya."

"Kneel? In front of her? No way in hell—" Lyon's defiance was quickly silced by Vyan's piercing glare, which made him lower his gaze.

"Kneel, Lyon," Vyan repeated, his tone deadly calm as he twisted the whip a his wrist. "Unless you want a taste of this."

Lyon shuddered, but his pride kept him standing. He refused to kneel, ev though the fear in his eyes was evidt.

"So, you are the stubborn type, huh?" Vyan's chuckle was low and macing. "Well, it's not like I didn't know that." He dangled the whip, letting it sway macingly. "Do you remember this whip, Lyon?"

Lyon glanced nervously at the black leather whip and timidly shook his head.

"You don't? Aww, too bad," Vyan said with saccharine mockery. "But I do. It's exactly like the one you used to use on me."

He cracked the whip against the g again, the sound reverberating through the stable, making the horses flinch.

"Kneel in front of Freya, or next time, the whip won't be hitting the g," Vyan warned one last time.

Lyon pressed his lips together, remaining immobile.

Freya almost felt bad for Lyon, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Vyan listed to nobody wh he was like this.

"You leave me no choice th," Vyan let out.

Lyon closed his eyes, bracing himself.

The whip struck his back with a searing pain, and he had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to stifle a scream. The agony was intse, but he refused to give Vyan the satisfaction of hearing him cry out.

Through gritted teeth, he thought, ugh, it hurts.

But he stood his g, his pride keeping him upright despite the pain.

The sharp pain of the whip struck again, and Lyon couldn't help but wonder, did it always hurt others like this wh I used it on them?

Before he could ponder further, another wave of pain crashed over him. However, just as he braced for a fourth strike, it never came.

Peeking his eyes op, Lyon was stunned to see a small frame shielding him against further punishmt.

It was other than the person he had always hated to acknowledge as family—Iyana.