The following morning, Oriana opened her eyes, only to find Arlan peacefully asleep in her embrace. His condition seed to have improved, and his complexion was returning to normal. Although she had managed to rest for only a few hours and felt tired due to last night’s events and the use of her powers, she knew it was ti to get out of bed, rather than continuing to sleep.
Oriana checked on Arlan one last ti, a sense of uncertainty creeping in. "Seems like this ti he’s not going to wake up anyti soon," she mused. She stepped out of the bed, swiftly dressing in her clothes. As she gazed at the door, a thought occurred to her.
’Last night, they must have been waiting for him to return. I wonder what they did when the prince didn’t return?’
She approached the door cautiously, cracking it open, and to her relief, found Imbert standing on the other side. She opened the door fully, ensuring no one else was present.
Sensing the door’s movent, Imbert turned to Oriana and bowed. "Good morning, Your Highness."
His lack of surprise and apparent lack of concern regarding Arlan’s whereabouts indicated he was aware of Arlan’s return and Oriana’s presence. Unbeknownst to Oriana, after waiting for Arlan for a considerable ti the previous night, Imbert had returned to Arlan’s chamber, anticipating the possibility that Arlan might have teleported back instead of arriving on horseback. When he opened the door, he discovered Oriana and Arlan sleeping peacefully, and he chose not to disturb them.
Oriana offered him a nod and whispered, "I need assistance. I cannot appear as Orian in front of others."
Imbert understood the implication. "I will arrange everything."
She returned to the room, moving to the window, and gazed outside, her mind filled with nurous thoughts, yet sohow empty at the sa ti.
Another weighty concern burdened her thoughts: the possibility of her servant failing to find her in her chamber in the morning, and the subsequent discovery by Commander Loyset of her abrupt disappearance. Their distress would be inevitable. She puzzled over how she would explain her escape from the guest mansion, given the tight security surrounding it.
All she could do was hope for Commander Loyset’s understanding.
"Please convey my ssage to Commander Conor Loyset that I am currently at the Thistle Palace," Oriana instructed.
"Yes, Your Highness," Imbert affird.
With the weight of her responsibilities pressing upon her, Oriana retuned inside the room. She stood by the window, her gaze fixated on the world outside, thinking about so many things but nothing at the sa ti.
Half an hour later, a gentle knock resonated through the door. "Your Highness, it’s , Ana."
Oriana opened the door, revealing her servant, Ana, whose eyes widened in astonishnt at the sight of her master dressed as a man. Oriana stepped out and closed the door behind her, addressing Imbert, "I will take the previous room."
Imbert nodded in acquiescence, while Ana, who didn’t know what Oriana ant by previous room, silently followed Oriana into the adjoining room. There, she assisted Oriana in transitioning back into the Crown Princess’s garnts, including the delicate veil that obscured her face.
"Ana, you may return to the guest mansion," Oriana instructed as they erged from the room.
Ana hesitated, her concern evident. "But, Your Highness..."
Oriana interrupted her gently, "Furthermore, please convey to Commander Loyset that there is no need for concern. I am safe and well here." Her voice carried an assurance that brooked no argunt. "I shall return shortly."
Ana, with a mixture of reluctance and obedience, bowed and departed to carry out her mistress’s instructions.
Oriana remained in tense anticipation, her thoughts fraught with worry about Arlan’s impending reaction and how she would broach the subject of the previous night’s events.
As the morning light stread into the room, a knock echoed at the door. Employing her magic, Oriana effortlessly opened the door, revealing the figure of Yorian standing on the threshold. The elf strolled inside, noting Oriana’s startled expression and clearly understanding her thoughts.
"I simply wanted to spare myself the awkwardness of inadvertently stumbling upon sothing inappropriate while the two of you were in the room," he quipped with a wry smile.
Oriana furrowed her brows, "You always harbor weird notions, Lord Yorian."
The elf retorted, "Only because I am surrounded by weird individuals," not hesitating to label Oriana as one of them.
She gestured toward Arlan, who lay unconscious on the bed. "He’s unconscious. Can he do anything in this situation? Is there any reason for concern on your part?"
"He’s unconscious, precisely why I’m concerned, with a bold woman like you tending to him," Yorian responded as he approached Arlan, intending to assess his condition.
"What do you an?" Oriana inquired, her anger mounting.
"Exactly what you deduced," the elf replied nonchalantly, proceeding to check Arlan’s pulse.
Was this elf calling her a pervert who would take advantage of an unconscious man? Well, she had done sothing like this before but it was different now. She was not that brazen and shaless to do that again.
Her anger flared, "You...I am the most decent woman one can ever find."
"I believe you," he interjected, offering a playful smile that only served to fuel Oriana’s vexation. "He appears to be in good health and might awaken at any mont."
Oriana averted her gaze, her anger still simring, and turned her attention to the view outside the window. "If you have sothing important to discuss, please do so, Lord Yorian, or you are welco to take your leave."
"Why do I get the sense that you’re shedding formalities with these days? I am, after all, considerably older than you," Yorian remarked with a raised eyebrow.
"Then perhaps you should conduct yourself accordingly," she retorted.
Yorian adopted a more serious tone. "Shall I then assu the role of an elder and start disciplining you?"
Oriana pursed her lips and maintained her silence. Despite Yorian’s easygoing deanor, she was well aware that he held a deeper, more mysterious side. It would be unwise to provoke him, for often, the easier a person appeared on the surface, the more mysterious they were within.
The elf chuckled at her restraint and settled into a chair. "What do you intend to do once he awakens?"
"It depends on his reaction," Oriana replied. "I anticipate that he won’t be pleased with the events of last night, and I need to be prepared to face his anger."
"He would likely be angry because he cares for you and was only trying to protect you. Allow him his emotions," Yorian advised.
Oriana could only nod in agreent then said. "I wished to ask sothing?"
"Hmm?"
"Who opened the door of that witch’s room last night? Was it King Drayce?"
"It was Commander Sanders," Yorian replied. "The mont he touched the door, that black magic disappeared on its own and he kicked opened the door."
"That easily?" Oriana expressed her astonishnt at Slayer’s apparent ability to confront black magic so effortlessly. "He is simply amazing."
"He is."
"But that makes him enemy of all the black magic practitioners."
"And that’s precisely why his existence must remain concealed from the world," Yorian explained.
Just then, they sensed a stir in the bed, both tuned on high alert. Oriana turned to Yorian, who assured her, "I’ll return when necessary."
She nodded imdiately and watched as the elf vanished, turning her focus back to the bed, striving to maintain her composure as she waited for Arlan to awaken.
’I have never been this anxious in my life, not even when I went to that evil witch. Deities, spirits, whoever can listen to , please protect from his wrath.’
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