The Devil's Betrothed
Chapter 509: Hurting?

Chapter 509: Hurting?

When Oriana arrived at the guest mansion to visit her grandfather, Erich had already arrived and was patiently waiting for her in the chamber.

"How are you, Oriana?" he inquired.

"I’m well, Master," she responded, and in turn, she heard him say, "Congratulations on your wedding."

"Thank you," she replied before asking, "How is Grandpa doing now?"

"He’s stable. I’m just waiting to see if we can finally create that medicine. The King is fully recovered, and I need to return to my own place. I do hope we can heal your grandfather before that happens."

"Are you leaving, Master?"

"Not yet, as I’m still here for your grandfather. But the original purpose of my presence in this palace has been fulfilled. Although I’m not the reason His Majesty has recovered, the reason for my being in this palace no longer exists."

"Please don’t say that, Master. It was your unwavering efforts and your invention of new medicines for His Majesty that helped sustain his vitality. Without your work, he would have been in a much worse condition before we could remove that curse from his body."

Erich simply nodded and replied, "I won’t lie about the situation regarding your grandfather." His demeanor grew serious as he continued, "Given his age, even though he’s currently stable, we can’t expect him to hold on for much longer. If we can manage to prepare that medicine, at least we can ensure his last days are spent in greater comfort, with you by his side."

Oriana’s eyes glistened with moisture, but she managed to maintain her emotional composure. "The former Queen of the witches is here. I intend to approach her directly without any further delay."

"That’s an even better plan," Erich acknowledged.

After a brief interval, there came a knock on the door, and Ana entered, announcing, "Your Highness, His Highness has arrived."

---

The Crown Prince’s carriage pulled up at the guest mansion, waiting to escort Oriana to the Rose Palace, where the Queen had graciously invited them for a family meal.

Arlan disembarked from the carriage, patiently waiting for his wife while Imbert exchanged a significant look with Rafal. The knight nodded in acknowledgment and proceeded to enter the guest mansion.

Arlan harbored no desire to step foot in the same place where the murderer of his mother resided. His previous visit had been an exception, as it was necessary for Oriana’s sake. However, now that she no longer stayed there, he had no reason to enter the same abode as the one responsible for his mother’s death, let alone breathe the same air.

The image of that accursed sword piercing his mother’s body, snatching her life away, remained vivid in his memories. The more he dwelled on it, the deeper his anger welled up within him. Just because the man was Oriana’s grandfather didn’t mean Arlan would ever forgive him. Instead, he was resolved to see justice served the moment the old man woke from his slumber.

If only he could stop Oriana from visiting him, but he knew he couldn’t. She had made her choice, placing her loyalty to her grandfather above him.

Rafal reached the foyer, where Oriana had just emerged from her grandfather’s room. He offered a respectful bow and greeted her, "Greetings, Your Highness."

Oriana gazed at the knight, his head bowed respectfully before her. There was a time when they engaged in playful banter, like a cat and mouse, but those days seemed distant now. Even if she were to say something amiss, he would merely remain silent and offer his obeisance. It was nothing to be happy about.

She wondered what thoughts occupied his mind, now that she had suddenly assumed the role of Crown Princess from the lowly servant who he tried to discipline all the time.

"His Highness is waiting for you outside," he dutifully informed.

Oriana acknowledged with a nod and proceeded forward, Rafal trailing behind her.

Upon reaching the outdoors, she spotted Arlan standing by the carriage, his countenance impassive.

Arlan, the moment he laid eyes on her, strode towards her with purpose, concealing his disapproval of her visit to that old man. Her visit to her grandfather only made him feel like she was going further away from him than she already was.

Before she could utter a word, he enveloped her in his embrace, planting an unexpected kiss on her lips, leaving her momentarily stunned.

What was he doing at this precise moment, in this very place, and before his knights, royal guards, and the entire retinue of servants? Arlan gave her no opportunity to retreat; he held her firmly in place, deploying every ounce of his strength. The kiss was far from gentle, unlike the tender one they had shared this morning. It felt almost punishing, as if he sought retribution for something. That ’something’ was unmistakably her visit to the man he despised most.

The knights, royal guards, and servants wisely took several steps back, discreetly turning their backs on the couple, respecting their privacy by maintaining a hushed silence.

When Arlan eventually released her, Oriana was left breathless, gasping for air as though she had sprinted for miles. Her eyes remained closed as she tried to regain her composure.

Arlan regarded her flushed face, his forehead touching hers, as he sought solace in her calming scent, attempting to still his agitated mind.

His thumb tenderly grazed her slightly swollen lips as he spoke in a husky voice, "Every time you meet him, it seems we have to reconcile in this manner."

Oriana, still focused on regaining her equilibrium, opened her eyes and gazed at him. "Is kissing me the only solution you can come up with for anything that troubles you?"

Arlan’s intense gaze held a deeper meaning as he replied, "I can offer more if you desire it."

"Don’t do this to me," she softly cautioned.

Arlan’s lips curved into a sly smile. "Why? Are you afraid you might yield to me?"

His words struck a chord, causing her unwavering gaze to falter. He had pinpointed her vulnerability accurately; she feared that her determination might crumble if he persisted with this intensity.

"I don’t want any distractions while I’m tending to my grandfather," she spoke, aware that this was the argument that would best deter him.

He wanted to suggest something more drastic, like ridding her of the old man so that she could be wholly his, but he suppressed that impulse. It would do no good to him.

"Mother must be waiting for us," he interjected and fixed her hair while brushing his fingers through them and caressed her swollen lips, "Hurting?"

She brushed his hand away, but he was shameless and spoke, "They will be fine till we reach there," he held her hand, "Let’s leave now," and guide her towards the awaiting carriage.

Oriana followed him quietly and sat in his carriage.