The Devil's Betrothed
Chapter 385: Anger and Quarrel

Chapter 385: Anger and Quarrel

The Queen walked towards him to stop him, "What are you doing, Arlan?"

"Going to show this woman her true place." He dragged Oriana away with him.

The knights standing outside, Imbert and Rafal, as well as Commander Loyset, were shocked to see him this angry and taking Oriana away with him, who was trying to free her hand.

"Let go of me, you jerk," Oriana shouted angrily.

Thankfully, there were no other servants in that hallway to witness it other than the Queen’s lady-in-waiting and a few others who held high positions in the Queen’s mansion.

"Your Highness," the commander blocked his way, "You cannot take her away."

Arlan’s gaze moved to his face, "It’s between me and my betrothed. Do you dare meddle between me and my future wife, commander?"

"My responsibility is to protect her."

"She will be delivered back to you," Arlan spoke and walked away with Oriana, who stopped struggling to free her hand.

’Let’s see what he wants from me. One thing I know for sure he won’t kill me because of the King.’

Arlan dragged her to the carriage and instructed the coachman, "Palace of Thistle."

Shiver ran down her spine as she heard it. It was his residence and why was he taking her there.

"I don’t want to go there."

"Shut up," Arlan angrily shoved her inside the carriage and closed the door.

The servants of Rose palace, aghast, bore witness to the unfolding spectacle. One singular question weighed heavily on their minds: did their Crown Prince hold no affection for the Crown Princess?

"Lady Karla, what is happening?" One of Karla’s servant pulled her attention to the Prince who was dragging Oriana and forcibly shoved her in the carriage.

Karla followed her gaze, and was equally surprised, but then she looked at her servants, "Pay attention to your work, all of you."

The servants quietly obeyed her and everyone focussed on their works.

Arlan, seemingly indifferent to the world’s chatter, mounted his horse and steered it towards the Thistle Palace, with the carriage and knights following in a disciplined procession.

Upon reaching the palace gates, Arlan dismounted his horse alongside the waiting carriage.

"Step out," he ordered.

The coachman promptly opened the carriage door, and Oriana reluctantly emerged. Meanwhile, Arlan’s knights intercepted Commander and his men at the Thistle Palace’s gate.

"Apologies, Commander, but entrance into the palace without His Highness’s permission is not permitted," Imbert declared.

Commander Conor Loyset, who happened to be Imbert’s uncle, leveled a stern gaze at his nephew. "Ensure your liege refrains from any rash actions, for the consequences would be severe. I will not hesitate to follow His Majesty’s orders."

"Rest assured," Imbert replied, unable to say more and himself being worried for Oriana. But he trusted Arlan as well.

Rafal found himself observing his liege in a different light these days, but he remained silent. All he could discern was that the woman, whom he laid eyes on for the first time since her capture, appeared strangely familiar. However, her veil obstructed a full view, preventing him from identifying her conclusively. Moreover it was not appropriate for him to look at the Crown Princess.

Leading Oriana, Arlan guided her to the drawing room after they crossed the grand foyer. Imbert and Rafal had discreetly signaled the servants to vacate the area. The servants, taken aback by the unprecedented fury in their master’s countenance, hastily made their exit.

They had not seen Arlan thins angry ever and they all could only ask what must have happened to anger him to this extent.

Thud!

The heavy double-sided doors of the drawing room shut with a resounding thud, the echoes reverberating through the entire palace, sending shivers down the spines of departing servants.

Arlan released her hand with such force that it seemed as if he had propelled her forward. Oriana steadied herself, taking a few steps forward, her gaze searing with anger as it bore into the Prince.

"What’s the matter with you, Arlan Cromwell?"

Arlan sneered. "Do you even have the right to pose that question to me?"

Frustration building within her, Oriana shot back, "What do you want? Why have you brought me here?"

She rubbed her wrist, still aching from his grip. She wished she never knew this man. All those moments she had spent around him in past few months, now felt like a disorienting illusion to her.

"How dare you visit my mother? A commoner like you, do you even deserve an audience with the Queen of this kingdom?" Arlan spat out, his tone seething with anger.

"She invited me," Oriana retorted, unwavering. "If you didn’t want it to happen, you should have convinced your mother to stay away from me."

"The invitation from her and your compliance," he sneered, "since when have you become so obedient? Or have you already forgotten that her son nearly took your grandfather’s life?"

Her eyes flared with intensity as she glared at him. "I’ll ensure you pay for that."

A cruel, mocking laugh escaped Arlan’s lips as he moved closer, his predatory eyes locked onto her. "And how, I wonder? By marrying me? I heard you agreed to the engagement."

She took measured steps backward, maintaining distance between them. "Do I have any other choice?"

"You had, but you missed it. You had a choice to run away when I was giving you chance but you dodged every time and now you pretend like everything is being forced on you, huh?"

She sneered, "Use those chances for what? Just to be killed by you?"

He walked even closer, his face leaning closer to her as he spoke viciously. "If I was you, I would have rather killed myself thinking I don’t deserve to live. But seems like you want to die in my hands," his gaze turned colder and hateful, "I have not wiped your grandfather’s blood from sword yet, knowing I have to use it again for both you."

Oriana glared back at him, her eyes showed how much she hated this man. "Stay away from my grandfather."