159: Oriana...Beautiful Name She Has

Oriana...Beautiful Name She Has

When Oriana entered Arlan's room, she watched him stride towards his makeshift work table which had papers scattered on its surface.

'Is he going to work the entire night? Why is he working during a trip anyway? It's just the first night too.'

Instead of sitting to work, she saw him collecting all the papers and arranging them in stacks. 

'Shall I offer to help him?' She changed her mind. 'I guess I am not allowed to touch royal documents. The last time, he got angry when I touched one.'

Oriana quietly watched him move around, choosing to lessen her presence as much as she could in order to not disturb him. Though she was often a victim of the prince's whims, there was one thing Oriana respected about Arlan—and that was his work ethics. 

When it came to important matters, Arlan would never idle or fool around. He would turn into a different person, a reliable person, a person worthy of admiration and trust.

Just as he finished arranging the piles of paperwork, he walked towards the bed, causing his attendant to grow confused.

'Wait, didn't he say he was going to work? Did he change his mind? Is he going to sleep?' 

Oriana moved out of habit. When the prince climbed his bed, she approached to cover his body with a blanket. She also extinguished the lamps, merely leaving the curtains open to flood the room with faint silvery moonlight.

Oriana slowly pulled one chair to his bedside. This time, she was not doing it for her master's or for her job's sake, but for herself. 

For unfathomable reasons, Arlan's presence comforted her. To think a day would come when she would willingly stay by the prince's side to spend the night, it was nothing short of preposterous.

'It is because of that nightmare…that horrible voice calling me Esmeray…'

Oriana tiredly rubbed her face as she remembered her strange recurring dream. Tonight was the worst of them all. 

All of a sudden, her eyes widened at a certain memory. 

'Oriana, wake up!'

A second voice also appeared this time, interrupting the dream and helping her escape its clutches.

'The Crown Prince… did he…?'

Her brows furrowed.

'Why do I feel like he called me Oriana instead of Orian? Was I mistaken? That should be the case, right?  There is no way he discovered that I am a woman and that my real name is Oriana. Even Grandpa only calls me Ori. There's no way…'

In a while, she began to yawn once more, dozing off in her chair despite her lack of intention. Maybe it was the low temperature, or perhaps the stillness of the night. Maybe it was the sight of the prince peacefully slumbering, or the combination of stress and fatigue in her body. Whatever the cause, it overcame her fear of returning to sleep. 

After listening to her soft, steady breaths, Arlan opened his eyes. He would normally not bother, but he could not pretend he did not see her trembling due to the cold. Though there was a fireplace, from Oriana's position, the warmth barely reached her. 

Grabbing the spare quilt placed on a dresser, he proceeded to cover her with it. 

Not even a minute later, he saw her  instinctively grabbing that quilt around her shoulder, her expression turning more relaxed.

Arlan wondered about carrying  her sleeping body to bed, but he decided otherwise. As much as possible, he wanted to maintain their boundaries as master and servant, fearing the outcome of repeating that drunken episode in his bedchamber. 

Seeing her small body comfortable in that large chair, he returned to bed and resumed sleeping. Or at least, attempted to.

His brain drifted to that night when he slept while holding her in his arms. Though he was incredibly intoxicated back then, there were glimpses of memories that would struck him from time to time. 

The moment she entered his room, his satisfaction to see her return, the part where he pulled her into his arms, that closeness he shared with her…

Her words, 'Let's go to sleep', were like a melody to him who had not slept peacefully the entire week she was gone. Once he pulled her to bed, the warmth of her small body in his embrace, coupled with that sweet scent of hers, calmed his thinly stretched nerves. 

His next memory was that in a half-awake state, he sensed Oriana leaving before his day started. A woman with long hair hurrying out of his room, without even once turning back to look at him. 

He preferred to act as if he didn't remember anything. Her gender was a secret Oriana kept in the first place, and he respected that. It was better to maintain the status quo.

But he had one regret. 

'I wish I had woken up earlier than her. I could have seen her face framed with her long hair. Such a close miss.'

He then realized how worried he was for her when she was having a nightmare and ended up calling her her real name— Oriana. 

'I believe she doesn't remember I called her Oriana, otherwise she would have guessed I know she is a woman. I have to be careful.' 

He closed his eyes as a light smile tugged on his lips.

'Oriana… beautiful name she has.'

-----

When Oriana woke up, her body felt a little uncomfortable, her legs numb with her shoulders stiff as expected. A discovery made her dismayed. 

The numbness was now a familiar ache—meaning, her body had somewhat adapted to falling asleep in a sitting position.

As she was about to stretch, she realized her body was covered with a quilt.

'I don't remember covering myself with it.'

She looked at the bed in front of her and found Arlan fast asleep. 

'Did he? Umm, seems like it.' She removed the quilt, stood up and folded it without making a single noise. She placed it on the chair and headed back to her own room. 'I need to get ready before he wakes up.'

While Oriana was washing her body, she briefly recalled the events from the previous night. The horrible nightmare, how the prince woke her up, how she clung to him and soaked him with tears, as well as his warm thoughtfulness afterwards…

Without realizing it, those memories brought out a tender smile on her face.

'I didn't know he could be considerate as well. Those kind gestures, I never expected I would receive them from him.'

Refreshed and energized, Oriana looked forward to seeing the prince later. She was curious. Would he pretend nonchalance or would he change the way he treated her from hereon? 

When she stepped out of her room, she found Neil about to enter Arlan's lodgings. It appeared he and Damien had already begun working.

"Orian, good timing. His Highness said he wishes to dine alone in his room. Can you let the kitchen know?" Neil instructed. 

She returned after some time with the prince's meal. After the inn servants brought the food inside his room, they no longer lingered and went back to the kitchen. Damien and Neil left waiting on Arlan to Oriana, as they had other matters to attend to, leaving the pair by themselves.

She watched Arlan quietly have his meal. Even if their gazes met, he would act like his usual self, showing nothing changed for him even after the previous night's incident. 

A normal person would attempt to strike up a conversation, perhaps ask about how the other person was feeling, but there was no such thoughtful gesture here. 

It was as if last night did not happen.

'I thought we grew closer, but I guess it was all in my head,' she could not help but sigh. 'I can't believe I cried in this apathetic man's arms. He must have been caught in the heat of the moment. He was never nice to begin with.

By the time the preparations for the royal delegation's departure were made, Imbert came to Arlan's room. 

"Your Highness, we are ready to leave."

Arlan looked at Oriana. "Gather all these scrolls and bring them to my carriage."

Oriana did as she was told and followed him with his paperwork stacked in her two arms. When they reached the carriage, the prince instructed, "I am going to read all those scrolls in the carriage. Do not misplace them."

This much was enough for her to understand his implied meaning. She had to travel with him while taking care of his work documents. After he climbed the carriage, Oriana soullessly followed him inside. 

As their means of transport began to  move, Arlan spoke up, "Give me a scroll."

"Which one, Your Highness?"0

"Just grab any."

She picked a random one and handed it to him. His eyes quickly scanned its contents and passed it back to her. She was prepared to pass a second scroll to him, but her expectations were betrayed, leaving her waiting for his next words in vain. 

'Didn't he say he was going to read these? Am I holding onto all these documents for nothing? Is he treating me like a moving, breathing desk?'

"You will spoil them if you keep holding onto them. Put them down," she heard him order in response to her growing impatience.

She obediently put them aside. 'Nevermind. He's being mean again, but at least, I can sit more comfortably now.'

She watched Arlan staring outside the window in silence. 

'I wonder what goes on in his mind. It's so difficult to understand him."

Just like this, they continued their journey, with Oriana accompanying the Crown Prince in his carriage the entire time.

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