142: Like A Bird Whose Wings Have Been Cut

Like A Bird Whose Wings Have Been Cut

That evening, after Oriana had her meal, she first sought out a certain knight within the Palace of Thistle. 

"Sir Rafal, may I have a word?" 

She bowed to the large man sitting alone inside the indoor training grounds, in the middle of polishing his broadsword. It appeared the vice-captain of the Order of Thistle had just finished punishing several unruly knights through an hour-long sword spar.

Rafal looked at the innocent-looking youth with a raised brow. The existence of this pretty boy was a thorn piercing his heart. 

'The Crown Prince's pet', this was the secret moniker people used to refer to Oriana.  Everyone in the Palace of Thistle was aware that she sleeps inside Arlan's chamber every night, but no one dared breathe a word about it. Not only had she caught their prince's interest, the favors she received was striking enough to breed gossip that could potentially harm the Crown Prince's reputation. 

The way Rafal looked at her almost scared her. 

'What's with this gaze? He seems scarier each passing day. Am I his sworn enemy or something?'

"What is it?" she heard his cold voice ask. 

"I wonder if I can make one request, Sir Rafal," she said with her head lowered, sounding as polite as she could. 

"Peasants like you only come to us when you are in some kind of need."

Oriana was taken aback. 'Uhh, did I offend him? I haven't even told him my request. Am I asking for the estate of the Ahrens, huh?' 

She swallowed the insult about to escape her mouth and took out a letter from her coat pocket. 

"I would be extremely grateful if you can help me out, Sir Rafal. I have a letter I wish you could pass to my older brother who works for the renovation of your city residence. His name is Luke, a skilled laborer working under the master builder. Tomorrow, I will be departing from the capital and I do not have enough time to personally inform him."

"I will be glad if you have written in it that you won't be returning to the palace." 

"Unfortunately, Sir, His Highness demands I return at once."

Rafal rolled his eyes at her, but got that letter from her hand.  "It will reach him by tomorrow."

Regardless of his rude comment, she was grateful. 

"Thank you so much, Sir Rafal! I will remember this favor."

—--

Oriana packed her things as she had to leave for Wimark early in the morning. She carefully wrapped the bottle of medication Erich concocted for her grandfather, along with some herbal supplements the physician gave for her to bring along. She also hid her ivory knife inside a bundle of cloth.

After she was done, she went to do her night duty—playing the nanny of a certain grown prince. 

While Arlan was fast asleep, Oriana could not help but criticize him in her head. 

'Such a torture this is. I have to keep watch over him even though I am scheduled to leave early tomorrow. Thinking about it, I only got to enjoy sleeping in my own bed for a total of…three times? Four? I have a long journey ahead of me, but no, I can't sleep on my own bed. 

'Ugh! My poor neck, my poor back. Why give me such a nice bedroom when I can't use it? This child-like prince! A brat! A total brat!'

Time flew by, and before she knew it, a new day had arrived. Oriana left the prince's chamber an hour before dawn. Arlan, who watched her leave, sighed helplessly. 

'I can only hope this week will go by without a nightmare, otherwise…' 

He clenched his fists. Arlan didn't know the reason, but he had been experiencing nightmares more often lately. That was why he was also desperate to keep Oriana by his side.

'I wish I could just keep her, never allow her to leave like a bird whose wings have been cut.' He calmed himself. 'Just this once. Once she returns, she won't be allowed to leave.'

Oriana slung her bag over her shoulder. Clad in her beloved loose-fitting black clothes, she went downstairs where she met two people waiting for her in the servant entrance near the foyer. It was Roman and one of the stewards from the Office of the Royal Chamberlain.

"Go with him. He will take you to the second entrance of the central palace. The entourage you will be joining belongs to Lord Ernest."

Orian nodded and bowed. "Thank you, Mister Roman." 

As she walked to leave, she paused mid step as if feeling someone's gaze and turned to look at the open corridor of the second floor. But there was nothing, so she turned back and went on her way. 

Once Oriana was gone, Roman moved towards the bottom of the grand staircase, where he looked up and noticed the shadow of the retreating figure of the Crown Prince of Griven. 

—--

The sun was up by the time Oriana reached the central palace where she saw a group of bustling people.

The steward who accompanied her talked to the royal guard who appeared to be the leader of the troop escorting the palace official called Lord Ernest.

The middle-aged escort guard nodded, "I have been informed." He looked at the youth clad in all-black from head to toe. "Mister Orian, we have prepared your ride. Please come this way."

There were a total of five carriages, and Oriana was led to the fourth one. "This is your ride, Mister Orian."

Oriana gawked at that carriage. It was smaller compared to the main carriage, the ride of the palace official, but it was still one bearing the crest of the royal family. It was exquisite and attached to a pair of chestnut-colored stallions. 

The leader continued, "Though there are supplies arranged inside you might need during travel, if there is anything more you need, you can let me or any of the guards know."

"Thank you."

The entourage was ready to leave and Oriana had to climb the carriage. 

"Travel safely, Orian," the steward said before leaving.

'Comfortable.' 

The space was large enough to fit four adults, and the cushion reminded Oriana of the luxurious seats inside the guest room in the Palace of Thistle. For a moment, she wondered if the escort made a mistake and thought she was a noble or a palace official too. 

She waited for someone else to join her, but the carriage started to move. Looking outside, they were departing from the gate.

'Wait, am I traveling alone inside this carriage?' 

Shocked, she looked at the interior of the carriage once more. She could travel the entire journey comfortably and could even sleep for as long as she could. There was a folded blanket placed on the side, along with a wooden water carrier and a small basket containing bread and fruits.

'Is it because I am a royal servant? I never knew royal servants are treated so well.' She happily picked up an apple from the basket and started eating it. 'I am hungry anyway. I didn't get to eat before leaving.'

Oriana learned how comfortable it was to travel under the banner of the royal family. 

Because Lord Ernest was on an official mission, no one blocked their way. Each territory would welcome their arrival without undergoing inspection and the main roads were cleared out so their carriages could move swiftly. Other carriages, carts and wagons had to give way. Their group would only stop every five hours to let the high-bred horses rest, and then spend a good night's sleep in the mansions of the noble households along the way. 

In just three days, Oriana reached the city of Jerusha in the Wimark Territory. 

When she stepped out of the carriage, the leader of the royal troop came to her. "I hope you had a comfortable journey, Mister Orian."

"Of course. Thank you for taking care of me."

"Lord Ernest only came here to deliver a message to His Grace Duke Wimark. We will be departing tomorrow morning for our return journey." 

Oriana's eyes widened as a bad premonition came to her.

'That bratty prince, don't tell me…he didn't…did he?'

The leader's next words proved her guess right.

"I hope you get here early because we cannot leave without you."

'Did he order them to bring me back?! He doesn't trust me that I will return! No, don't tell me, he also has spies planted near my village who will drag me back if I escape? Too much! He really wont let me off, will he? To think I was lucky because the journey was so comfortable…

'To prepare all these for a mere servant, is he obsessed with me?'  2

She gritted her teeth but could do nothing more than that. 

"Alright! I will be here. See you tomorrow, leader!"

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