Do Not Let Him Drink
Other than the guards in the night shift, most of the people had gone to sleep. The empty hallways of the beautiful palace, dimly lit by the flickering lamps on the walls, gave an ethereal, dream-like quality to the travel-worn Oriana. 2
She visualized her soft bed beckoning to her and she could not wait to go to her assigned room. As she reached the second floor of the palace, to her surprise, the entire hallway was empty as well, not a single knight or servant was present.
'Where has everyone gone?' She could understand that the foyer was empty, but how could there be no one attending to or guarding the prince? Then, Oriana recalled there was one exception—that was, if there was a person inside playing nanny to him.
'I wonder who replaced me.'
It happened that Roman was coming out of Arlan's chamber, carrying empty wine bottles on a tray. The butler and the attendant were both startled by each other's presence.
She bowed to Roman, about to greet him, when Roman beat her by saying, "Stay here till I return and keep watch on His Highness."
Oriana nodded and watched him climb down the grand staircase. Her attention was on those empty bottles he carried.
'Five? So many bottles. Is someone accompanying His Highness for a drink?'
Hefting the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder, she walked towards the door of the prince's chamber and stood in front of it like a doorman. Through the crack between the doors, she could somewhat see the inside of the chamber. She caught a small view of a lone man leisurely sitting in the chair, his one hand holding a glass of wine.
'I can't seem to hear anyone's voice. Is he alone?' She gaped. 'That many bottles? Did he drink those all by himself?' She vaguely recalled the wine Arlan drank the first night of her punishment. From the stench back then, she could guess the strong quality of wine this royal prince favored. 'If he drinks that much, it won't be surprising if he gets sick tomorrow and ends up lying in bed for the next few days.
Being a herbalist, Oriana could understand what it meant to drink that much.
Roman returned with more bottles of wine. Oriana looked at him in disbelief. Before she could say a word, Roman spoke, "Go to your room, freshen up and come back here."
Oriana's eyes widened in shock, unable to conceal her real emotion.
'What? I just returned from a long journey, my body is tired to the bones that I can't even stand for long, and he wants me to come back? To attend to this drunk lord instead of letting me have much deserved rest? Am I the only servant in this palace? Am I a slave? Where are the others? Are they dead?'
The butler, who was about to enter the prince's chamber, stopped and looked over his shoulder, finding Oriana still rooted on her spot.
"Hurry up."
It pulled out of her shock and she hurried back to her room. With a longing gaze at the beautiful bed in her room, Oriana sullenly put down her bag.
The large canopy bed looked like heaven to her at this moment—a heaven that was both too near yet too far from her reach.
'I swear I can fall asleep the moment I lay in bed, but sleep is not destined for me tonight, it seems.'
She scurried to the washroom, freshened up and changed into a clean set of attendant uniform. She made sure her appearance was fine, especially her headwrap, before stepping out of her room.
To her dismay, she found the gentle-looking butler standing outside Arlan's chamber, obviously waiting for her to return. If Roman had been a haughty or rude nobleman, Oriana would not feel guilty about refusing his orders. However, the butler had been neither arrogant nor condescending to her. There ought to be a reason why Roman demanded her to return.
'Damn it. Why me?'
She forced a light smile on her lips. "I am back, Mister Roman. What do I have to do?"
"Go to His Highness and make sure he won't drink anymore," she heard Roman say.
'Huh?' She raised her head up to meet his gaze, her wide eyes asking him, 'Are you for real?'
"Understood?" he asked.
"M-Me, how can I—"
"Do not let him drink more and put him to sleep." His firm, authoritative voice interrupted her, as if saying there was nothing to dispute. "Now go inside."
'What the hell?'
Despite her unwillingness, Oriana could only force herself to agree and enter the chamber.
'It reeks of wine!'
Just two steps inside, the gagging stench of wine assaulted her nose. It was as if she was inside a brewery, rather than a bedchamber.
The door behind her closed and her heart skipped a beat. She turned to look at the closed door.
'Why did mister Roman…?' she frowned but had no other choice but to obey the butler's order.
She looked at Arlan's figure in the chair and wondered, 'He seems like he is sleeping. What should I do?' She walked towards him and stood beside his armchair. Seeing his eyes remained closed, she intended to take the unfinished glass of wine from his hand.
'Mister Roman said not to let him drink anymore.'
Oriana leaned down to get that glass from him. Just as she was about to pry the glass of wine from his fingers, another hand held hers, taking her by surprise.
"What the—" she almost let out a curse out of habit, but gulped it back upon seeing the pair of stormy sea blue eyes staring at her.
The prince was awake and terribly drunk!
"Y-Your Highness—ah!"
Smash!
With a strong tug, she was pulled into his arms, causing him to let go of the wine glass which smashed on the floor.
Yet in this tense moment, no one bothered about the broken glass. The sounds of heavy breathing and her pounding heart were all the wide-eyed Oriana could hear.
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