Oriana’s carriage ca to a halt in front of the palace adjacent to Thistle Palace, the official residence of the Crown Princess and the future queen of the kingdom. As always, Ana accompanied her, and a cadre of knights followed in the wake of her elegant carriage.
The arrival of the Crown Princess was promptly announced when her carriage drew to a stop before the palace gates. Ana, ever the loyal companion, assisted Oriana as she disembarked. The surrounding palace workers fell silent, showing due respect as they offered deep bows to the Crown Princess.
Oriana’s observant gaze swept across the assembled workers, yet none of the faces she sought could be found among them. Determined, she proceeded inside, guided by an inner purpose.
Inside the mansion, a palace overseer approached Oriana and offered a courteous greeting. "Greetings, Your Highness."
Oriana responded with a slight nod and ventured further into the palace, entering a well-kept foyer. The work in this area appeared to be nearing completion, and laborers were bustling within various other rooms, each focused on their respective tasks.
"The renovations will be completed by week’s end, Your Highness," the overseer inford her. "I trust the work ets Your Highness’s satisfaction."
Oriana, her thoughts elsewhere, inquired, "I heard there was an accident, and soone was injured," she remarked.
The overseer responded, a touch of guilt in his tone, "Yes, Your Highness. Unfortunately, our most skilled craftsman suffered an injury during the work, but he’s recovering and continues to labor diligently."
"Working? If he’s injured, shouldn’t he be resting?"
The overseer nodded, sowhat remorseful. "I advised him to rest, but he’s determined to complete his tasks, especially since the work has been delayed. It’s essential as Your Highness will soon be residing in the guest mansion."
Oriana’s interest piqued as she inquired, "Where can I find him?"
"He’s overseeing the work on the second floor, particularly in charge of the bedchamber Your Highness will be using. He has already completed work on other rooms, such as your study and entertainnt spaces."
Oriana, appearing disinterested, rely stated, "Lead the way."
The palace overseer regained his composure and led Oriana to the second floor. As they reached the bedchamber, Oriana paused by the door, where she and the overseer overheard the voices of Luke and Ken engaged in conversation.
"Luke, you really should rest. You might end up worsening your hand."
"It’s just a minor scratch; I’m fine."
"Why the rush to complete your work? Are you already missing your ho?" Ken teased, his laughter light. "Or perhaps soone special you left behind in the village?"
"Quit talking and help finish this faster."
"Not denying is an admission," Ken playfully quipped. "By the way, where’s Orian? Hasn’t he returned yet?"
"It seems so," Luke replied.
"That lad isn’t here, and after this project, you’ll be heading back to your village as well. I’ll certainly miss you both."
The overseer entered the room, capturing the attention of the two n.
"The Crown Princess has co to inspect the work," he inford, and Oriana entered the room, followed by her dedicated servant.
Upon seeing her, Luke and Ken imdiately lowered their heads out of respect.
"Greetings, Your Highness," Ken spoke, while Luke remained silent, his mind wandering. For a brief mont, he caught a glimpse of Oriana’s veiled face, and her eyes reminded him of soone he knew- Orian.
"I wonder why has he not retuned to the capital yet?’ Luke thought.
Oriana’s gaze fell upon Luke’s bandaged left hand, still clutching a tool.
"Your Highness, this is the man who was injured," the overseer inford, turning to Luke. "Luke, Her Highness was concerned that one shouldn’t work when they’re injured."
Luke kept his head bowed and responded, "Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness, but I’m alright."
A trace of moisture glistened in Oriana’s eyes as she grappled with her feelings about revealing herself to Luke.
"Your Highness, do you approve of the work here? If not, you can instruct us as you see fit," the overseer inquired.
Oriana cast her gaze around the elegantly appointed chamber, a room that had been crafted with precision and care, on the cusp of receiving its final touches. The chamber was undeniably beautiful, a space that any woman would adore. However, she wasn’t admiring its beauty just because of its aesthetics, but rather because it was a creation of Luke, a man she held in high regard.
"It’s truly beautiful," she murmured, her words almost a whisper.
Luke, who happened to overhear that soft utterance, couldn’t resist the urge to turn and steal a glance at the woman standing before him. Although her voice was barely above a whisper, it struck him with an inexplicable sense of familiarity. Before he could scrutinize her features further, Oriana had already turned her attention to other corners of the room.
This chamber wasn’t intended for her use; it was a space that soone else would co to appreciate, soone who would benefit from the craftsmanship Luke had put into it.
The back view of the woman felt sowhat familiar to Luke, even though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where he might have seen her before.
Oriana surveyed the room and then, with a sense of hesitation, turned to look back at Luke, who had respectfully lowered his head to avoid seeming impolite by staring.
"Your Highness, this area is still a work in progress. It might not be suitable for you to remain here. The dust from the woodworking may cause discomfort," the overseer wisely advised.
Oriana longed to speak with Luke but hesitated. What could she possibly say to him, considering she had been deceiving him all this ti? ’I ca to see him, and he’s fine,’ she thought. ’Ken ntioned that Luke is returning to the village. Revealing my true identity might only put him in a difficult position. I should just keep things as it is.’
With that resolve in mind, Oriana turned to leave, while Luke, raising his head, couldn’t take his eyes off her retreating figure. His instincts told him that this presence was sohow familiar, but he dismissed the notion as there was no woman, aside from his mother and sister, who he had ever been familiar with.
-----
At Thistle Palace,
"Your Highness, Her Highness has gone to the palace next to us, the one being prepared for her," Imbert inford.
Arlan, who had been engrossed in work, suddenly gripped the docunt in his hand so firmly it seed as though it might crumble. His gaze darkened, and his jaw clenched in reaction to the news.
Imbert, attuned to his master’s emotions, discerned the gravity of this change. However, his duty was solely to keep Arlan inford about Oriana’s whereabouts.
"Have them expedite the work at the palace and send the laborers away. The constant noise has been a nuisance," Arlan snapped impatiently.
"Of course, Your Highness," Imbert nodded and withdrew from the room. Arlan closed his eyes briefly, attempting to regain his composure.
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