The Devil's Betrothed
Chapter 556: A Whispered Adoration

Chapter 556: A Whispered Adoration

Beneath the canvas of a star-studded night sky, Wildridge Manor revealed its most enchanting visage. Expansive and elegant, the manor basked in the gentle illumination of countless lamps, each casting a warm, welcoming glow over its architectural splendor.

As night embraced the world in darkness, a carriage sliced through the quiet, rolling through the main gate of Wildridge Manor. Inside, a woman of striking beauty pressed her hand against the left side of her chest, trying to still her fluttering heart.

Peering out the window, she was captivated by the dreamlike vision of the manor bathed in glow of numerous lamps lit.

Was the manor always this mesmerizing, or did tonight cast a special magic? Or perhaps it was simply her imagination painting the scene in a different hue.

Meanwhile, a handsome man dressed in a stylish white tunic shirt paired with dark pants and boots, lounged casually on the steps of the manor’s main entrance. He sat with one leg stretched along the stairway while the other bent at the knee, providing a perch for his resting arm. His other hand tenderly stroked the soft fur of a white wolf seated beside him. The two shared a tranquil moment, the man’s attention devoted to his companion, his face serene and his ash-brown hair lightly tousled by the cool, gentle breeze.

He heard the sound of a carriage riding towards the manor building and finally raised his gaze in the direction of the sound, his blue eyes calm like the still ocean and his face didn’t have any particular expression on it.

As the carriage halted at the foot of the stairs, Arlan remained still, his gaze fixed intently on its door.

Rafal, with a practiced grace, dismounted his horse and approached the carriage. He opened the door, and dutifully extended his right arm which was clad in a thick leather protector from its wrist to elbow, a silent offering of support to Oriana.

A delicate hand, adorned in grace, emerged, lightly grasping Rafal’s arm just above the leather protector. Oriana descended from the carriage, her movements the epitome of grace, her beauty accentuated by the elegant dress she wore.

The instant she stepped down and lifted her eyes, she found herself caught in the unwavering gaze of the man seated on the stairs with their pet.

Was he waiting for her?

The moment Arlan’s eyes met Oriana’s, he too found himself immobilized. To him, the world around faded into nothingness, his attention entirely captivated by the sole figure before him - his wife, radiant and captivating, commanding his gaze so completely that he found it impossible to look away.

His eyes, piercing and intent, seemed to take her in from head to toe.

Oriana felt a nervous tremor and found herself momentarily rooted to the spot, her heart racing in a rapid crescendo. Time itself seemed to halt, suspending the moment in an almost ethereal stillness as if the time has stopped all of a sudden.

During her journey to the Wildridge manor, Oriana had pondered what she would do or say upon this encounter, yet now, confronted with his presence, she realized she was utterly at a loss.

Rafal, along with the other knights, offered a respectful bow before departing with the carriage. Before leaving, Rafal cast a meaningful glance at Snowflake, the white wolf, who, understanding the cue, promptly stood and followed him.

With that every knight or guard present around, retreated in the darkness, making that entire surrounding devoid of anyone’s presence, leaving only the Crown Prince and Princess in a world of their own.

Arlan rose, his gaze steadfast on Oriana, and began his descent down the grand staircase. Each step he took was imbued with a natural, manly charm that seemed to accentuate his regal presence.

Oriana’s breath hitched in her chest as she watched him approach, her eyes locked with his in an unbreakable connection. In this silent exchange, his customary handsomeness was amplified by an air of solemn dignity, making her heart quicken in anticipation of his next move.

Finally, Arlan stood before her. His ocean-blue eyes, deep and searching, gazed intently into her hazel ones, that shone beautifully with the soft reflections of the numerous lamps.

Oriana always possessed a natural beauty, but tonight, there was an undeniable difference. She had prepared herself not out of duty or compulsion, but of her own volition. She was here for him, for her husband, and Arlan perceived this with a clarity that touched him profoundly.

Oriana, unsure of what to say, remained silent. It was as if the world around her had fallen away, leaving her speechless, waiting for him to break the silence.

Arlan, without breaking their gaze, tenderly extended his hand to her cheek. The back of his fingers gently caressed her delicate skin, a gesture as soft as it was profound, bridging the distance between them with a touch that spoke volumes.

At the sensation of Arlan’s touch, Oriana involuntarily inhaled a sharp, gentle breath. The simplicity of the contact transformed unexpectedly into something profoundly intimate, sending a wave of goosebumps cascading across her skin.

Arlan’s face drew closer, his lips mere inches from hers. His fingers, having traced the contour of her jawline, now glided to the nape of her neck. His thumb, resting just in front of her ear, continued its tender journey along her jaw’s edge.

In that moment, Oriana felt as though she had turned to ice, immovable under his touch. Then, Arlan’s voice, a whisper of seductive timbre, reached her ear.

"You look beautiful, Oriana," he breathed. The mere brush of his lips against her earlobe nearly coaxed a soft moan from her throat.

Her response was instinctual – her eyes fluttered shut, a swallow traversing her suddenly parched throat, making unable to utter words to respond that praise she received from him.

In that instant, Arlan became an embodiment of desire, a potent aphrodisiac, capable of stirring such intense feelings within her with the slightest of gestures.

Arlan gently drew back, allowing him a full view of Oriana’s face, now covered with a soft blush. Her eyes remained closed, her thick lashes casting delicate shadows, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly in a moment of shy vulnerability.

As Oriana slowly opened her eyes, they met his once more, revealing a storm of emotions swirling within her. The connection between them was palpable, her heart a chaotic symphony in the silence of their shared gaze.