The Devil's Betrothed
Chapter 484: Question

Chapter 484: Question

At noon, Oriana woke up after a long nap. It was Arlan who presented her meal, delicately feeding her as she remained silent, her gaze never meeting his. She complied, consuming the food he offered without a word.

"Is there anything else you require?" Arlan inquired, clearing the empty tray from the bedside table.

Oriana’s attention remained fixed on the world beyond the window, offering no reply.

"Perhaps a stroll in the garden would be refreshing?" he suggested, attempting to engage her.

Still, her silence persisted. Without hesitation, Arlan gently adjusted the blanket over her legs till her waist, ensuring she was shielded from the chill. He understood that her current aloofness might merely be the precursor to further challenges once she regained her full strength.

Retreating to the comfort of a nearby couch, Arlan lifted a scroll from the table. "I’ll be here should you need anything." With a fleeting glance at her inscrutable expression, he resumed his work.

A soft knock echoed through the room.

"Your Highness, Lord Yorian has arrived, requesting permission to visit Her Highness," Ana’s voice filtered through the door.

"Grant him entry," Arlan responded.

The chamber door creaked open, revealing a tall, silver-haired elf. Yorian’s eyes met Arlan’s, acknowledging him with a brief nod, before his gaze settled on Oriana, who remained lost in the world outside the window, seemingly oblivious to her visitors.

A mischievous sparkle danced in Yorian’s eyes as he turned to Arlan. "I’ve come to pay her a visit. I trust you won’t object, Prince Arlan?"

Arlan fixed him with a steely gaze. "What if I do object?"

Yorian’s lips curled into a playful smirk. "Then, I do not abject to your objection," he replied, amusement evident in his tone. Before Arlan could argue, Yorian spoke again as he offered cautioned gaze to Arlan, "Your constant presence around her must have left her bored to death. Allow me to give her a break."

Arlan’s brows furrowed but he looked at Oriana and thought Yorian’s presence might bring some change and controlled his annoyance for her sake.

Setting aside his scroll as he rose to his feet and offered a warning glare to the elf. "Mind your boundaries," he cautioned before exiting the chamber, leaving Yorian chuckling softly and murmuring, "Possessive dragon."

Unfazed, Yorian gracefully brought a chair beside Oriana’s bedside using his magic and settled into it. "It appears you have turned mute and deaf, Oriana," he observed, attempting to draw her out.

Oriana remained silent, offering no response.

Undeterred, Yorian reclined comfortably in the chair, crossing his long legs and resting an arm casually on the armrest.

"He is the one to upset you, but why redirect that frustration towards me?" Yorian probed, attempting to penetrate her silent demeanor. "Or there is something going on in your mind but you don’t seem to find the answer to it."

A palpable silence enveloped the room, Oriana’s stoic facade remaining unyielding.

Exhaling softly, Yorian rose from his seat. "I had hoped to offer clarity, yet it appears you’re not in need of my assistance," he remarked, pivoting to depart.

"Why would one’s powers be ineffective against a specific individual?" Oriana’s voice finally pierced the silence, its calm timbre belying her impassive expression.

Yoriana stopped and looked at her, she was still looking outside the window, seemingly lost in thoughts. Her question to him seemed like she was asking it to herself while contemplating about something.

Reclaiming his seat, Yorian responded wryly, "Ah, so your keen senses remain intact. I was beginning to wonder if you’d lost your hearing. I contemplated seeking Evanthe’s expertise to remedy your newfound silence."

Without acknowledging his jest, Oriana echoed her earlier question, her tone reflective and distant, "What could explain the immunity one person seems to have against another’s powers?"

"Have you ever encountered someone immune to your abilities?" Yorian inquired, not anticipating an immediate response. Undeterred, he pressed on, "There are myriad explanations, but if you won’t even bother look at me, I might not be able to answer."

"What could be the reason....?" Oriana murmured, her voice trailing off, lost in her own world.

Yorian’s playful demeanor shifted, replaced by genuine concern as he continued to study her. The incident from that night seemed to have inflicted a profound emotional wound, evident in Oriana’s lingering distress. While her physical recovery progressed, the scars on her psyche remained raw and unhealed.

Empathy welled within Yorian. The pain of witnessing a cherished individual’s demise, not being able to do anything to protect them, was a torment he understood all too well.

Yorian meticulously began addressing each potential scenario:

"Firstly," he began, leaning forward slightly, "There can be ancient pacts, treaties, or rivalries between different supernatural entities. These agreements or rivalries might include clauses that provide immunity to one entity against the powers of another."

"Second," he continued, "Each supernatural being might possess unique abilities or weaknesses that protect them from others. This could be due to their genetic makeup, evolutionary path, or specific magical artifacts associated with them."

"Third," Yorian elaborated,, "There can be someone really powerful who possesses the ability to shield a certain entities from the powers of others."

"Fourth," he added thoughtfully, "The universe or supernatural realm might require a balance of power. To prevent any single entity from becoming too dominant or overpowering others, certain beings could be immune to the powers of their counterparts."

"Furthermore," Yorian pressed on, "Sometimes immunity isn’t absolute but depends on certain conditions or rituals. For instance, during specific celestial alignments, lunar phases, or rituals, one entity might become immune to another’s powers.

"And lastly," he concluded, "Over time, certain supernatural entities might have evolved or adapted specific traits or abilities that grant them immunity against potential threats, including the powers of other supernaturals."

"Among all these, any of the reasons can be applicable to what you have asked. Or there is something else that we have yet to discover," he finished.

After a prolonged silence, Oriana’s eyes met Yorian’s. "How might one dissolve such a pact?" she inquired.

Yorian kept quiet as he simply looked into her eyes, observed her expressions. She was nothing like before. Her eyes devoid of any emotion, her face carried no expressions.

"What prompts this inquiry?" he probed gently.

"Curious," was her single word answer.

The individual with such immunity must willingly permit the other to exercise their power upon them," Yorian explained.

Without uttering a word, Oriana shifted her gaze back to the window, her expression remaining inscrutable as she continued to peer outside.

"Oriana, what is in your mind?" Yorian inquired, his voice tinged with concern.

Choosing silence as her retort, the resolute young witch simply shut her eyes, signaling the end of their exchange.

Recognizing the delicacy of the moment, Yorian hesitated to further agitate her fragile state. Her uncharacteristic tranquility was a precarious facade, liable to fracture under even the slightest provocation.

Rising from his seat, he murmured, "Rest now. I’ll visit you again."

With worry in his mind, Yorian left the chamber, leaving behind a contemplative silence.