The Devil's Betrothed
Chapter 480: I Am Not Being Forced

Chapter 480: I Am Not Being Forced

Yorian stood poised on the cliff’s edge, lost in memories of days gone by. Vivid in his mind were those captivating forest-green eyes, radiant with a natural beauty that mirrored the lushness of the woods.

"You naive woman," he murmured with a bitter smile playing upon his lips. "Perhaps it’s for the best that you’re gone. you would have been nothing but an annoyance to me given how foolish you were."

For a prolonged moment, he remained in contemplation. His eyes, glistening with moisture, remained shut tight. His lengthy silver locks gracefully danced with the chill breeze, enveloping him in an aura of solemnity and nostalgia.

-----

Arlan headed to the palace to visit his father. Inside the study, King Ailwin was engrossed in his duties. However, upon hearing of Arlan’s arrival, he set aside his work, anticipation evident in his gaze as he awaited his son’s entrance.

"Father," Arlan greeted with a respectful bow, immediately noting a newfound vitality in King Ailwin. For the first time in two decades, the shadow of the blood curse had lifted, leaving no vestiges of dark magic. According to Yorian, Zaria had healed his father in a better way.

"Please, take a seat," Ailwin gestured graciously.

Seating himself opposite his father, Arlan inquired, "How do you fare, father?"

Ailwin’s face glowed with a rejuvenated smile. "Remarkably well, my son. It feels as though I’ve reclaimed the vigor of my youth."

"That’s heartening to hear," Arlan replied, returning the smile.

Ailwin’s grin broadened. "I suspect my newfound well-being may stem from my stubborn son finally heeding my advice, and perhaps, moving closer to fulfilling my wish of seeing him wed."

Arlan merely hummed in response, prompting him to ask, "You summoned me, Father?"

A moment of silence stretched between them as the king assessed the truth in Arlan’s eyes. Eventually, he spoke, "Very well, I’ll take your words as an assurance for Oriana’s safety. In the coming days, a significant wedding approaches, and I pray it transpires smoothly. Its success holds considerable importance for you."

Arlan grappled with a whirlwind of thoughts, each more tumultuous than the last. With the impending wedding, Oriana lay unconscious, her awakening uncertain. And even if she were to regain consciousness, would she still be committed to this union? Her primary intent had been to settle matters with that witch. Now, endowed with her full demonic powers and reigning as the queen of witches, Arlan couldn’t fathom what her next move might be. The uncertainty surrounding her feelings and intentions weighed heavily on him.

Observing his son’s evident turmoil, Ailwin spoke with a stern tone, "Arlan, entertain no thoughts of disrupting the wedding. All arrangements are in place. Delegates from every kingdom across the continent have embarked on their journeys, making their way here for your wedding. Do nothing to jeopardize this, and do not bring shame upon Cromwell royal family."

"I comprehend, Father," Arlan replied with a nod, not even explaining that his father was misunderstanding him.

Ailwin continued, his voice unwavering, "Ensure Oriana returns to her residence promptly. You two are not married yet. Having her out of the palace for long will raise questions."

Arlan met his father’s gaze squarely. "She’s unwell, Father. Her health is priority. I do not care what others say."

Ailwin hesitated momentarily, recognizing the genuine concern in his son’s words for Oriana’s well-being. "As long as she shows up for the wedding and you do not disappoint me."

"I won’t," Arlan assured and said, "I will take a leave then."

"Visit your mother," Ailwin urged with a softened tone, concern evident in his eyes.

Acknowledging his father’s advice, Arlan made his way to the Queen’s chambers. As he entered, Queen Julien’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy at the sight of her son’s safe return. Dismissing the attendants, she approached Arlan, scrutinizing him closely to ensure he was unharmed. Aware of the ominous events forecasted for the upcoming New Moon, her relief was palpable as she gazed upon her son’s well-being.

"I’m unscathed, Mother," Arlan reassured, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. He was clearly not going to tell her mother that he was in fact hurt. "That witch is gone. She will never come back to trouble us ever."

Pulling back slightly, Julien met his gaze, tears streaming down her face. "Can I truly believe you? You’re not bound to her by some obligation? You do not have to go to her again?"

Arlan gently wiped away his mother’s tears, his eyes resolute. "I assure you, Mother. I am free."

A bittersweet smile graced Julien’s lips, yet her tears flowed unabated. After enduring two decades of turmoil and uncertainty, the sudden relief left her speechless, a mix of overwhelming emotions rendering her momentarily mute.

Gently guiding his mother to the couch, Arlan offered her a glass of water to help steady her emotions. Once she had regained some composure, he took a seat beside her, seeking to reassure her further. "All is well now, Mother."

Seeking clarity, Julien asked, "You won’t elaborate on the specifics?"

Arlan remained reticent, and sensing his reluctance, Julien shifted her focus. "And Oriana? I sense her involvement in all of this."

She knew he never told her specifics of the things that were beyond the understanding of humans and she never insisted either.

"She is fine but will stay at wildridge manor for a while," Arlan confirmed, choosing his words carefully to avoid causing further concern.

Nodding in acceptance, Julien shifted the conversation’s direction. "Arlan, while the past is filled with the complexities, I see goodness in Oriana’s heart. Despite the repeated pain inflicted upon her by our family, she continues to show us compassion. Even if this marriage is imposed upon you by your father, you should treat her well. Your father also means well for you. You understand, don’t you?"

Arlan gazed into the eyes of his ever-concerned mother, a soft smile playing on his lips. Her unwavering care and affection had been his anchor, providing solace on even the most challenging days. While she wasn’t biologically related to him, her love had filled the void, particularly on those dreaded days when darkness threatened to consume him.

Taking her hand gently in his, he whispered, "Thank you for being my mother."

The simplicity of his words carried profound meaning, encapsulating the depth of his gratitude and affection for her.

Julien, attuned to his emotions through their years together, responded warmly, "And I am blessed to have a son like you."

Their shared smiles radiated warmth as they continued their conversation over tea.

"Mother, I will take a leave now."

"Take care of Oriana."

As Arlan prepared to take his leave, he paused, capturing his mother’s attention once more.

"Mother," he began.

She responded with a soft, "Yes?"

"I want you to know—I’m not being forced into this marriage," he confided, the gentle and light smile on his lips revealing a hint of his true feelings and he left.

As the realization dawned on Julien, her smile widened. "So, he truly likes her."

After Arlan departed, a lady-in-waiting entered the chamber, observing Julien’s buoyant demeanor. "Your Majesty appears particularly pleased today."

With a determined nod, Julien issued her next command, "Ensure that Karla is imprisoned in the dungeon. I’ll attend to her myself."

"Of course, Your Majesty," the lady-in-waiting acknowledged, sensing the gravity behind the queen’s directive.