Arlan entered the room, carrying a wooden tray, and made his way to the lounge area where a wooden table stood sentinel before the couch.
"Have your al," he said, gently setting the tray upon the table.
Oriana didn’t dare move as she was not comfortable in that jacket where her legs were exposed. She felt hesitant to walk in front of him this way.
Sensing no movent from the bedside, Arlan turned his attention towards her, "Eat before it gets cold."
Despite her reservations, Oriana decided compliance was her best course of action. She gingerly maneuvered herself on the mattress, minimizing her movents, before tentatively stepping onto the floor. As she moved, Arlan couldn’t help but steal a glance, his gaze lingering on the sight of her legs, uncovered by his jacket. His throat tightened, and a primal urge stirred within him, threatening to overwhelm his senses. He swore his Dragon stirred, ready to jump out.
Clutching his fists tightly, Arlan struggled to regain his composure, forcibly tearing his gaze away from Oriana.
Oriana walked to the wooden table and sat on the carpeted floor, with her legs folded to one side, doing her best to hide them from his view beneath that table top.
Once succeeded, she looked at Arlan who didn’t seem to be sparing her glance. "Aren’t you eating?" she asked.
"I am not hungry," he responded tersely, signaling his intent to leave the room.
Observing the generous spread of food on the tray, Oriana couldn’t help but deduce that it was intended for both her and Arlan. Roman must have arranged it. She was sure Arlan had not eaten anything either.
"I do not wish to eat alone," she spoke up before he could depart, her tone carrying a soft plea. "Please, accompany to finish it, even if you are not hungry."
Her words halted him mid-stride, prompting him to pause and search for his discarded shirt. Arlan retrieved it from the floor and began to don it, while Oriana surreptitiously observed him.
"Every movent he makes is so graceful, even wearing a simple shirt," she mused inwardly, finding herself captivated by his effortless elegance. His usual calmness, added to that regal charm of his.
As Arlan finished buttoning his shirt and turned back to face her, he caught Oriana’s gaze fixed upon him.
Quickly averting her eyes like a thief, Oriana redirected her attention to the food, clearing her throat awkwardly. "Hurry up. The food is getting cold," she urged, attempting to break the tension.
Arlan made his way to the table and seated himself opposite Oriana, settling onto the carpeted floor. His eyes followed her movents as she began to serve the food onto dishes.
"Wait!" he interjected suddenly, causing Oriana to pause and look at him quizzically. "Show your hands."
Perplexed, Oriana set down what she held, examining her hands for any sign of trouble. Arlan reached for her hands, deftly rolling up the sleeves of her jacket properly, unlike her previous haphazard attempt.
She glanced up at his serious expression, curiosity piqued by his unexpected attention to detail. Once he finished, he released her hands and spoke softly, "I will do it."
With gentle determination, Arlan began to fill the dishes with food, leaving Oriana pleasantly surprised by his gentlemanly gesture.
The man she once served as her master, now was serving her. It was a contradictory thing to accept.
He placed the dish in front of her with a simple directive, "Eat," and proceeded to serve himself from another dish. Oriana eyed the delectable food, its enticing aroma already tantalizing her senses, urging her to indulge without hesitation.
As she took a few bites and felt her stomach contented, she stole glances at Arlan, who ate with quiet grace. Sensing an opportune mont to broach the subject on her mind, Oriana mustered the courage to speak up, her gaze lingering on him.
"Do you want to say sothing?" Arlan’s voice interrupted her thoughts, his eyes eting hers in silent inquiry.
She nodded, seeking permission. "Can I?"
"Go ahead," he encouraged.
"You heard the entire conversation of mine with them?" she inquired, her tone cautious.
"Hmm," Arlan affird, his expression giving away nothing.
"I didn’t really an to go to the Demon realm," Oriana confessed hesitantly, "trust , I am more scared and worried about going there than anything," she added while silently saying the rest in her mind, ’Or why would I hide from you that my body has started to be affected.’
Arlan looked at her wordlessly, waiting for her to finish.
She continued, "I was rely driven by curiosity. At the ti, the quest for truth about the past consud my thoughts. I thought the witch could provide answers..."
"I do not care what the truth is," Arlan spoke with calm resolve, locking eyes with Oriana. There was no trace of anger or annoyance in his gaze, only a profound serenity. "I do not wish to uncover the truth at the expense of losing you. I am ready to be an unfilial son to my mother by letting go of her murderer, just because nothing is more important for than you. As for your grandfather, I can co to terms with the thought that his sword pierced my mother’s body, and I avenged her by doing the sa with him. If you say, your grandfather didn’t do it, then I am ready to accept what you believe. Discovering the truth will not bring my mother back. I have already lost her, and I refuse to lose you."
Oriana found herself speechless, overwheld by the sincerity and depth of his words. His calm and resolute deanor struck her to the core. The realization that she was his utmost priority weighed heavily on her heart, stirring a wave of emotions that made it difficult to swallow the food in her mouth. What had she done to deserve such unwavering devotion from this man?
"Your human body may begin to weaken due to that power, but we have a solution," he continued, sensing she was still hiding it from him.
Arlan remained silent. The two ways he had, to mark her but she was weak to handle the marking and other one was the Demon’s way of sharing the essence of power from their partner through the intimacy.
"I will reveal it to you when the ti is right," he replied cryptically.
"And when will that be?" she pressed.
"When your body truly begins to feel the effects of your powers, and it becos necessary to restore your vitality."
Oriana pondered his words, a wave of relief washing over her. ’So there is indeed a way, and I won’t have to venture into the Demon realm,’ she thought gratefully. ’Whatever it is, I’ll embrace it, as long as I can avoid going to that place. Shall I tell him that my body felt the side effects? Maybe I can wait a little longer as I am fine now or he would worry for nothing. Till then, I can solve things with my grandpa and I won’t be distracted. If I get a second attack, then I will tell him for sure.’
"What are you thinking?" Arlan asked, trying to see through her. He could guess she was contemplating whether to tell him or not. From her expressions, her conclusion seems to be on positive way. As long as she cos to him and tells him instead of hiding, everything was fine.
She got back to her senses, "I have yet to inform my grandfather about our marriage. Tomorrow, I plan to disclose everything to him."
Arlan simply nodded in acknowledgnt and resud eating his al.
"Arlan," she called out, prompting him to et her gaze.
There was a look of surprise in his eyes that she called him by his na finally and it felt natural coming out of her mouth and not forced at all.
"Hmm?" he responded, his attention fully on her.
"My grandpa is awake. You’ve been waiting to confront him, to..." she trailed off, unable to voice the unspoken implications.
"He is already dying, and there’s no use in punishing a man on his deathbed," Arlan interjected, his tone firm. "You can spend ti with him and do as you wish."
Oriana felt a surge of gratitude towards him. Despite his arrogance and pride, he was willing to set aside his principles for her sake.
"Thank you," she murmured, her eyes welling up with emotion.
"That doesn’t an I accept him as family or will show him any respect, or even et him. For he doesn’t exist," Arlan declared calmly, making his stance clear. There was a limit to forgiveness, especially when it ca to the murderer of his mother.
"I understand," Oriana replied softly, already overwheld with gratitude and unwilling to ask for more.
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