Spending a day busy while carrying the responsibilities of the crown Princess, Oriana was finally free by the late noon where she went to Erich’s guest mansion. Along with other issues at hand, she was also working on her grandfather’s dicine with the help of her master as she didn’t get much ti.
In the night, after discussing things with Yorian, Oriana was ready to call for her master. Sitting inside her study, she used the pendent to summon Rosetta.
The woman materialized with her customary grace, impeccably attired, her countenance betraying no surprise at the summons from her pupil.
"Greetings, Master," Oriana rose and offered a respectful bow.
Acknowledging the gesture with a nod, Rosetta assud a seat, her poise unwavering. "It appears you’ve completed the preparations to confront that witch."
"I am still in the process," Oriana admitted with a hint of uncertainty. In the presence of her master, she behaved and refrained from acting overly confident.
"Still preparing?" Rosetta chuckled sardonically. "I presud you would be ready to face her by now."
"I can only act on the night of the New Moon, so I must bide my ti."
"Do not disappoint ," Rosetta cautioned. "I trust you haven’t summoned without reason."
Oriana collected herself, addressing her master. "Master, I seek your assistance. It’s a matter only you, my ntor, can aid with."
She awaited a response, but Rosetta rely regarded her, an expectant gaze prompting Oriana to elaborate.
"Master, I implore your aid in breaking the blood curse afflicting King Ailwin. The opportune mont for this must coincide with my confrontation with the witch. We mustn’t alert her prematurely, and, regrettably, there’s no other black witch in my acquaintance who can assist," Oriana’s tone softened. "Please, Master. In return, I offer sothing of value—a token such as this." She gestured towards her wrist, where a small mole-like mark resided. "This magical artifact, bestowed upon by you. You can take it back."
A scoff escaped Rosetta’s lips. "Are you bartering this lowly blood curse for a divine artifact? Do you not comprehend its significance? It can withstand even divine attacks. You, a fool... such foolishness."
Oriana pressed her lips in thin line as she clearly knew she was being foolish but what could do as she was desperate. Saving the King’s life was important while this artifact was of no use as it could only protect soone from powerful attack and can’t be even used to attack soone. She was capable enough to protect herself from that witch’s attack.
"Master, I am not sure what to give you or in exchange. If there is anything you want, you can ask . As long as it won’t harm anyone and it’s not evil, I will do it," Oriana repeated the sa condition she had stated before.
"In return, I ask that you dispatch the witch and erge victorious in your inaugural battle as a black witch," Rosetta declared. "Your inaugural triumph determines your potential prowess. Failure would render you nothing more than a futile witch. I cannot permit you to bring sha upon as your master."
"I won’t lose, Master," Oriana declared with unwavering determination. Though uncertain about the future, one certainty fueled her— the witch who had taken her mother’s life and tornted the man dear to her would et her end at Oriana’s hands.
"Very well. I will assist you in breaking that curse," Rosetta conceded.
"Thank you, Master."
"Is there anything else?" Rosetta inquired.
"Nothing, Master," Oriana responded politely, gratitude shimring in her eyes. "Would you like so tea?"
Rosetta scoffed, dismissing the offer. "I do not favor the tasteless tea concocted by humans. I prefer my own brew."
"Then, Master, please instruct on your preferences. I’ll strive to prepare it to your liking next ti. I am not human as well. I am eager to satisfy..."
"I’ve already agreed to help you; there’s no need to flatter further," Rosetta interrupted as she rose. "I will be present on the night of the New Moon."
Oriana nodded, watching her master vanish. Simultaneously, a thick paper materialized in the air, gently descending onto Oriana’s work table.
In surprise, she reached for the paper, finding it to be the recipe for the tea Rosetta preferred. Oriana smiled faintly. "It alright. This way I will master the art of making good tea this way. It seems she doesn’t settle for anything ordinary."
Once Rosetta had departed, Yorian materialized in Oriana’s study. "Judging by your smile, it seems you succeeded in persuading your master to help you."
Oriana nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "Yes, she agreed to help, and this"—she waved the paper before him—"is why I’m smiling."
Yorian took the paper, inspecting it. Returning it to Oriana, he remarked, "Don’t forget to make it for as well."
Oriana, glancing at his serious countenance, retorted, "Instead of honing my skills to face that witch, both of you are fixated on having prepare tea. This is a grave battle, not so social gathering on tea."
"If we ever have a such a gathering, it’ll be just you and . There’s no room for a third person, especially not Zaria," Yorian asserted.
"And who said it would even be just the two of us?" Oriana scoffed. "I have more pressing matters than brewing tea for you."
Yorian’s deanor shifted, his gaze intense and grave. "Are you refusing to make tea for ?"
Oriana took a step back, ’again these scary expressions. What’s wrong with this elf?’
Yorian advanced, his question firm, "Do you?"
Raising her hands in a defensive gesture, Oriana yielded, "Alright! Alright! I’ll make tea for you, but not now."
Yorian’s deanor finally shifted, his lips forming a playful smirk. "That’s more like it."
Exhaling a sigh of relief, Oriana couldn’t catch a break as Yorian inquired once more, "What did she ask for in exchange for helping you?"
"Nothing," Oriana reiterated.
"Nothing?" Yorian raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident.
Yes, she asked for nothing more than victory and the demise of that witch," Oriana explained.
"Since when has she beco so generous?" Yorian offered a doubtful gaze. "That’s unlike Zaria."
"Perhaps because she’s my master and spared easily," Oriana suggested.
Yorian refrained from comnting and prepared to leave. "Ensure you get a good night’s sleep," he advised before disappearing.
----
Until the night of the New Moon, life in the palace continued its routine, with the royal family and the entire court preoccupied with the impending wedding. Unbeknownst to them, the bride and groom were focused on a different preparation, one far removed from the festivities.
Nights after night passed and finally it was going to be the night of new moon.
On the evening of the event, Oriana, feeling the weight of stress, paced her room. Yorian materialized, questioning, "Are you prepared to face that witch tonight?"
Oriana t the elf’s gaze, her mind filled with anxiety. "I am, but before that, I must inform the Prince that I am a black witch and reassure him not to worry about ."
"You should tell him," Yorian affird. "I’ve given him an idea of our plan, excluding the involvent of Zaria. We can’t disclose that we sought help from another black witch to break the curse."
Continuing her restless pacing, Oriana voiced her concern. "I hope he won’t be angered by the revelation and that it won’t jeopardize our plan."
"He’ll likely be shocked, but he won’t be reckless enough to get angry at you. This night is crucial, and he understands not to jeopardize it. Given the circumstances you both are in, he has to accept the truth. Now is the right ti to tell him, with no chance for confrontation. Once you two manage to eliminate the witch, he’ll have no reason to oppose you," Yorian assured.
"Hmm, I feel the sa," Oriana agreed. "I’ll tell him when he cos to get ."
Yorian nodded, offering guidance. "He’ll be here just before midnight, escorting you to that witch. She must have utilized your blood to escape the room and prepare for the ritual. She will instruct Prince Arlan on where to bring you."
Oriana nodded, concealing her inner turmoil. The anticipation of the impending revelation weighed heavily on her. What would transpire when she disclosed her secret to Arlan?
As ti crawled towards midnight, Oriana anxiously awaited Arlan’s arrival. Pacing in her room, she continued to think, ’There’s still so ti left. He won’t be here soon. Let prepare how to start the conversation and reveal that I am a black witch... I am a black witch... I am a black witch...’
She repeated the words as if afraid of forgetting them, anxiety seizing control. In the midst of her self-reassurance, a knock echoed on the door, diverting her attention.
’At this hour? I already dismissed Ana and everyone,’ she thought, puzzled.
The door creaked open, revealing a familiar figure—Arlan. Cloaked in dark attire, his expression composed, his enigmatic blue eyes t hers.
Anxiety gripped Oriana as she was taken aback by Arlan’s early arrival. Her palms turned sweaty, but she managed to summon a smile. "Your Highness, you’re early?"
Arlan offered no response, his gaze fixed on her in silence. It was an inscrutable look that left Oriana uneasy. What did it signify?
Feeling the weight of that stare, Oriana nervously continued, "But, it’s good you’re here early. I have sothing important to tell you before we head to kill that witch tonight."
Without replying, Arlan began to approach her, ending the intense gaze.
Rooted in place, Oriana gulped, her eyes following his asured steps. Sensing a sense of urgency, she blurted out, "Your Highness, please don’t be angry after I tell you, okay? I want to confess that I am a black... Um..."
Her words faltered abruptly, her lips sealed by the pair of warm lips of a man, catching her by surprise.
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