The Devil's Betrothed
Chapter 194: Jealous Arlan

Chapter 194: Jealous Arlan

Arlan sure was upset with the things that happened today that how Oriana was so much drawn towards Ilven siblings and drinking was an effective way to get his mind over it.

Used to the refined taste of expensive wine, the Crown Prince of Griven winced as he downed his drink. The bold, unapologetic taste of the strong Othinian ale burned down his throat. The rich taste of malt was bitter and earthy, but the burning heat at the pits of his stomach made him want to refill his mug for the third time.

At the other side of the table, Azer sat next to Imbert. He took a flagon and poured him a drink. "Sir Loyset, for you."

Imbert looked like he would ignore him again but the knight captain accepted the mug as it would be rude to reject it.

Azer let out a sigh of relief. ’So he doesn’t hate me. I was starting to worry if I offended him without realizing.’’ He got another mug for himself. ’Men become friends when they share drinks, right? Shall I show Sir Loyset how good a drinker I am?’

As Arlan continued to urge Slayer into drinking, a man wearing a brown cloak came towards their table.

"Apologies for being late."

Arlan looked at the owner of the voice and could not help but frown inwardly.

"Have a seat, Prince Cian," Drayce offered.

It was obvious that Cian came directly to the tavern after leaving the royal palace, covering himself up with a traveler’s cloak as he was unable to change out of his royal clothes. He sat next to Drayce, the spot exactly opposite to Arlan.

"How is your hand?" Drayce asked as he pushed a mug towards him. "How bad is the injury?"

Cian raised his right hand and waved it in front of them. "Prince Arlan’s aide advised me to not hold a sword for a month. I am afraid it is difficult to follow, but since those words came from your trusted person, I have no choice but to keep his advice in mind."

Arlan glared at the prince’s hand where his wrist and palm were covered in bandages. Recalling Oriana daring to speak up in the garden, he could not help but grit his teeth. The grip of his hand tightened around the mug.

"Your mug is empty, Arlan" Slayer spoke in reminder, nudging a flagon towards him to distract the prince from losing his temper. The sharp knight knew that the prince was merely a second away from breaking his mug.

Arlan let out a harrumph, before loosening his grip on his drink. He then emptied out another one down his throat, his unhappy gaze fixed on that bandaged hand of the Crown Prince of Abetha.

His mind started to wander about the events inside the drawing room, after Seren dragged her brother to be treated by Oriana.

His naive attendant, who had no concept of personal space, should have scooted right next to the prince, her manners unladylike as usual. She must have initiated contact, reaching out to hold his hand, her nimble fingers checking the man’s hand.

Her hand, how long did her hand hold Cian’s? Her small, calloused hands, cupping another man’s hand tenderly. It should be a long time, since aside from checking the injury, she also bandaged his hand.

How sweetly she must have talked to her patient, giving detailed instructions...and while talking, she must be staring at his face too, right? The very face she had been consistently eyeing during the entire dinner banquet?

Arlan studied Cian’s face. Was the Crown Prince of Abetha handsome? He ought to be, as most royalty were, but Arlan felt that his looks weren’t any less outstanding than Cian’s. Their features were both manly and chiseled, with Cian more dignified while Arlan was more elegant. Both of them had blue eyes, with Cian’s shade closer to a sapphire gemstone while his were darker.

His gaze landed on the man’s short golden brown hair.

’Could it be that she prefers blondes? Or is it the mature composure that Cian give off?’

Like his younger sister Seren, Cian was a quiet person, mostly only speaking when required, and his steady demeanor and quiet confidence did attract a plethora of ladies.

’She likes him so much that she even offered to treat him herself. That pervert could not wait to go closer to him. Is that girl blind? How can she look at another man when she has me?’

Hating the uncomfortable knot at the pit of his stomach, Arlan grabbed one of the unopened flagons. A bright smile appeared on his face.

"Prince Cian, you don’t go to rowdy places like this, I presume?" Arlan asked, a meaningful gleam in his eyes.

"This is the third time I’ve visited such an establishment," Cian confirmed.

Arlan poured ale into his mug. "As you are here, then should we enjoy ourselves well? I believe you are not a lightweight who gets drunk so soon."

"I believe I am decent with my liquor," Cian replied and he drank his ale without stopping under Arlan’s challenging gaze.

Thud!

Cian put down the mug without a single change in his expression. "This liquor doesn’t seem strong."

"Prince Cian isn’t like Slayer, Arlan," Drayce said, already aware of his friend’s intentions. "He has spent most of his time in the Abethan army. Military people have strong tolerance since they drink so often, alcohol is as good as water to them."

"Is that so? Let’s see then." Arlan filled his mug to the fullest, the froth of the ale even spilling, and offered a challenging look to Cian who also refilled his own mug.

Drayce leaned towards Slayer and whispered, "Keep watch on them."

"Do not worry," Slayer replied. The King of Megaris stood up and left, his departure unnoticed by anyone outside of those at their table.

Finding a quiet corner, Drayce disappeared from the tavern, only to arrive back at the guest mansion.