120: They Will Pay For What They Did

They Will Pay For What They Did

0Arlan was in his study even though it was late in the night. He had dismissed his servants and was sitting in his chair while staring at the moonless sky outside the window. He was still distressed with what happened with Oriana and could not come to calm his mind.  1

'Is she sleeping well?'

Their chambers were on the same floor. Earlier, his senses caught her sharp gasps of pain whenever she moved the wrong way. When she mumbled it hurt, he could imagine the scene of the pot-bellied count kicking her small kneeling form. 

Perhaps because it was his own imagination, Arlan tried to visualize her pretty face scrunching in pain, despite her unyielding gaze. Oriana was a consistent troublemaker, the type of person to offend a noble for a pregnant deer and the kind of busybody who would help out a stranger with a sick daughter from being scammed.

If Arlan came to that chamber a second too late, the sword held by Count Milton would have…

At that thought, his jaw clenched and the grip of his hands tightened on the armrests. For the first time he had an urge to use his power and destroy them but he was still sane to not do so. He would deal with humans in human way. 

'They will pay for what they did.'

He stood up from his chair, and not thinking twice, he went out towards the direction of Oriana's chamber. The urge to see her face—to confirm her alive and breathing, to look at her face not scrunched up in pain—was overwhelming. 

However, he dropped the idea.

Even if Oriana was his servant and they were in his own residence, Oriana was still a woman. Arlan had morals. No gentleman would sneak inside a woman's room uninvited in the middle of the night.

'Seems like she is sleeping peacefully,' he rationalized after hearing no sounds of movement from her chamber.

Arlan wanted to go to her and check on her, but in the end, the Crown Prince of Griven returned to his room filled with thoughts of the most satisfying retribution to  those audacious Miltons. 

The next morning, Oriana woke up to the sight of her room flooded by the morning sunlight. She jolted to a sitting position. 

"Ugh!" 

The sudden movement caused her to curl like a shrimp. She belatedly remembered the Count kicking her twice last night. She didn't even get to enjoy the act of waking up from a good sleep as panic rose within her.

"The sun is out?!" She rubbed her eyes to make sure as it was not a dream. "This can't be. No, no, no! I cannot sleep this late."

She dashed out of her bed in a hurry, only to crouch down at the pain racking her body. 

"Ah, damn it." She put her hand over the most hurting injury around her ribcage and walked towards the washroom. "I need to get ready fast, or else I might get punished."

Attendants had to wake up by the crack of dawn. They should be waiting outside Arlan's bedchamber even before their master woke up, but on her second day on the job, Oriana was late. She was not sure how she would be punished for this.

The consequences of yesterday's excitement came crashing on her today. Her muscles were sore and her body ached, the delayed pain indicating that she pushed herself harder than usual last night.

Though Oriana's pain tolerance was high, simple acts like bending down to pick a fallen item or lifting her arms to remove her clothes brought her pain. While she readied herself, she found the task of tying her long hair to be the most difficult task— lifting her arms would pull at her bruises time and time again.

"I really should cut my hair. It takes too much time to arrange. Ugh! I will find a time to cut it as soon as possible."

Staring at her image in front of the mirror, she found her left cheek slightly swollen. 

"Thanks to the ointment, it doesn't look that bad. I hope they will punish me lightly for being late."

Just as she stepped out of her room, she caught sight of Roman walking across the hallway, carrying tea towards Arlan's study. 

'I am dead. It means His Highness already had a morning meal. Is it not morning but nearing noon already?!'

She immediately ran to Roman. 

"A-Apologize for being late, Mister Roman. Let me carry that—."

"Go downstairs and have your meal. Come back as soon as you are done."

"Huh?" She was shocked that he didn't scold her for being late. "T-Thank you."

The butler went inside Arlan's study and Oriana hurried to go to the servant quarters. 

'Lucky!' she mentally cheered. Just as she took a turn on the first landing of the grand staircase, she was surprised to see a handsome man climbing it. 

Short wavy brown hair, paired with a dimpled smile and those charming green eyes, despite being clad in a rather old-fashioned dark military uniform, the disposition he gave off was mild and relaxed, the type of guy anyone could not help but like. 

'A soldier?' 

This was the same young lord from last night, the one who lent the victim a coat and chatted with Arlan as they were leaving. He even winked at her at that time. 

She remembered his name ought to be Arthur. 

Realizing her status as a servant, she immediately bowed her head. 

"Greetings, my Lord."

A pair of light green eyes stared at her with an amused gaze. With her standing on the staircase landing and him two steps lower than her, their heights matched and they were almost face to face. 

She moved a step back with her head still lowered, a silent gesture that she was giving way, when she heard him ask, "Are you usually this submissive or interesting like last night?"

Oriana looked at him for a moment, but she immediately lowered her gaze once more, not knowing what to say. Why was this young lord making conversation with a mere servant?

"Apologies, I do not know how to answer you, my Lord," was all she could say. 

His gaze was friendly, and Oriana's guts were telling her he had no ill intentions. However, last night's incident gave her a wake up call. A word from a single nobleman could easily determine the life and death of those of lower birth. It would be safer to stay as far as possible from them.

The young lord chuckled. "I merely asked you a simple question. Why are you apologizing?"

She took a step back, "I didn't understand what My Lord asked me. Apologies—"

"You are apologizing again."

"Are you done wasting your time, Arthur?"

They heard the familiar voice from above. Their heads turned towards the source and found Arlan standing at the open corridor of the second floor. 

pqdm.com