Change Is Coming (5)

(One Hour Prior…)

Vryne sat at his desk, his fingers gliding over the keyboard, multiple tabs open across his laptop screen. There open, documents and private files, chat logs, social media posts—everything he could access, he had. His expression was neutral, yet his sharp eyes gleamed with purpose.

The original Vryne had left behind a tangled mess of deceit, one he had no intention of carrying on. He wasn't doing this out of selflessness—no, he simply hated unnecessary problems, and allowing the past Vryne's schemes to remain unchecked would only create future obstacles.

First, he meticulously collected every fabricated claim and false accusation against Solara. He drafted emails, each one carefully written to expose the deception behind those lies. He attached logs, proof, and undeniable evidence that the original Vryne had twisted the truth to ruin Solara's standing.

Next, he moved to the rumors that painted Solara as someone who had spoken ill of her so-called friends. Opening multiple chat groups, he sent out long, calculated messages, detailing how those rumors were not only baseless but deliberately spread to isolate and humiliate her.

The final and most difficult step—her reputation. Unlike the first two, this required more than just private messages. Restoring her public image meant taking action that would be undeniably noticed, but any method he chose would either bring unwanted attention to himself or paint him as some sort of manipulative mastermind.

Leaning back in his chair, Vryne exhaled, rubbing his temples.

Solara's downfall had stemmed from the very moment she had publicly dissolved their engagement, exposing the past Vryne's deception. That had been the catalyst.

Then it hit him.

Vryne muttered aloud, his voice barely above a whisper:

"…I should just dissolve the engagement myself."

—

(Present- The Hallway)

Solara blinked, her expression blank.

"…What?"

Vryne repeated himself, his voice steady and neutral. "We should dissolve the engagement."

Solara's gaze sharpened, scanning his face for any sign of deceit. A bitter scoff left her lips. "Are you joking?"

He shook his head. "I'm not."

Still, she didn't lower her guard. Suspicion laced her next words. "And why," she asked slowly, "do you suddenly want to dissolve the engagement?"

"It's not sudden," Vryne replied calmly. "I had time to think about things."

A cold laugh escaped Solara's lips, but it lacked humor. "Time to think?" Her eyes darkened, her voice carrying an edge of bitterness. "Since when do you think about anything other than yourself?"

Vryne didn't react immediately. His gaze briefly flickered downward before returning to her. Then, in a quiet yet firm tone, he admitted, "You're right."

Solara stiffened.

"I've been unfair from the start."

Her expression twisted, anger flashing across her face. "Unfair?" she spat. "That doesn't even begin to describe what you put me through."

"I know." Vryne's voice remained steady. "And you have every right to be angry. To hate me. To be vengeful. But—" He met her gaze directly. "You don't need to worry about your future being tied to me."

Solara's brow twitched in irritation. "My future?" she hissed. "You have no right to talk about my future when it's already ruined because of you!" Her fists clenched at her sides. "Even if the engagement is called off, what difference does it make? I have nothing left-."

Vryne abruptly cut her off. "You do have a future."

Solara's breath hitched.

He continued, his voice firm. "And I told you—you don't need to worry."

Silence settled between them, thick with tension. Solara stared at him, still skeptical, still angry.

She crossed her arms. "You don't have the power to call off the engagement. Only our families do."

Vryne simply shook his head. "I have a plan for that." His expression didn't waver. "All you need to do is trust me—just this once."

Solara scoffed, her expression unreadable. "Trust you?" She studied his face carefully, searching for any sign of deception.

She found none.

Her anger simmered beneath the surface, but something else lurked beneath it—confusion. Uncertainty.

"…I don't trust you," she finally said, her voice laced with skepticism. "But I'll watch whatever scheme you have planned."

Vryne held her gaze for a moment before giving a small nod. "That's all I wanted to say."

He turned to return to his room.

Then—

Cold steel pressed against his throat.

Vryne froze.

Solara's blade rested against his neck, her movements so silent he hadn't noticed. Her voice dropped to a low, menacing whisper.

"Why?"

He didn't answer.

The silence stretched.

Her grip on the hilt tightened, pressing the blade further against his skin. "Why are you doing this?" Her voice carried an unmistakable anger.

Vryne finally spoke, his voice calm despite the steel at his throat.

"There are many reasons." He paused, his expression unreadable. "Some of which I had time to reflect on, whether you believe me or not."

Gently, he reached up, pushing the blade away ever so slightly—not enough to be forceful, but enough to create distance.

Then, in a quiet, almost resigned tone, he said,

"But the biggest reason is simple."

His gaze met hers.

"I know you're too good for me."

Solara's breath caught.

Her grip loosened. Her expression flickered from anger to confusion—to something else entirely.

She blinked rapidly, as if trying to process his words.

Vryne gave her one last nod before turning and disappearing into his room, leaving her alone in the dimly lit hallway.

The silence stretched once more.

Barely visible in the darkness, Solara's face held a faint, almost imperceptible tinge of red.

Softly, she whispered under her breath—

"…What?"