2: She Spilled The Royal Blood

She Spilled The Royal Blood

As Arlan savored the moment, a series of shouts broke his reverie.1

"Your Highness? Where are you?"

"A messenger from the capital has come! Your Highness, we must return to the mansion at once!"

'Ah!'

Just as Arlan pushed his body up with his arms, sharp pain erupted on his torso and he was flipped by the masked woman who used that chance to get away from him. Her movement was several times faster than an elite knight, and despite him reaching out to grab her, she evaded his hand at the nick of time.

All Arlan managed to catch was the cloth covering her head, giving him a chance to see an abundance of reddish brown locks flowing behind her as she ran away from him.

The prince sat up with a helpless sigh. She didn't even turn to look at him even once after stabbing him.

'How determined.'

Once she disappeared from his sight, Arlan took a closer look at the wound on his waist. Blood was staining his light blue tunic, and it looked worse than it was.

'She didn't stab deeply. Seems like she didn't want to kill me.'

As he stared at the direction she had gone, an amused smile lingered on his face.

"Shortie, I will make sure to find you and reward you for your kindness. The honor of spilling royal blood won't go unaccounted for."

Arlan got on his feet and made his way towards his knights.

"Your Highness, you are bleeding!" the younger knight, Rafal, exclaimed as soon as they saw him walk out from the cover of the trees.

Arlan shrugged. "Just a scratch." He then strode towards where he left his horse with unhurried steps, as if it was not his own blood staining his clothes.

The younger knight threw a worried glance at Imbert, whose face did not change from beginning to end. The royal knights then wordlessly followed their liege to leave the forest.

The Crown Prince of Griven, together with his two most trusted knights, rushed their horses towards the main mansion of the Wimark Estate.

An aesthetic manor surrounded by lush gardens soon appeared within their sights, where they also found a carriage with the crest of the Cromwell Royal Family waiting by the entrance.

All the servants nearby stopped whatever they were doing at the sight of the handsome prince on horseback. Though they paid respects to him, none of them approached him even after he dismounted from his horse, not even the stablehand.

Arlan was known as friendly and amiable, but he was rather strict with his possessions. Only people he trusted could touch them. Arlan and Imbert wordlessly entered the Wimark mansion, leaving their mounts for Rafal to personally put in the stables.

The messenger from the capital was waiting for him in the drawing room.

Seeing Arlan, the messenger in armor hurried to stand and salute. It was a familiar face, a knight from the Order of the Rose, the knights under the direct command of his mother, the Queen of Griven.

"Greetings, Your Highness the Crown Prince."

Arlan walked to sit on the lounge chair as he signaled for a servant to pour him tea, "What is it?"

The messenger was about to respond when he noticed the blood on the Crown Prince's clothes. His eyes widened. "Your Highness, are you injured? Where is the physician—"

His expression indifferent, Arlan waved for him to continue. "Get to the point. What's the message?"

The messenger swallowed the rest of his words. Maybe those in the countryside did not know, but for the people in the capital, the most fearsome person in the kingdom was neither the King nor the Queen of Griven—it was Crown Prince Arlan.

"Your Highness, I bear a message from Her Majesty Queen Julien."

Arlan simply enjoyed his tea, his posture rather relaxed as if he was listening to afternoon gossip.

"The royal entourage for the wedding of Second Prince Lenard will depart for Abetha in two days. The Queen asks that you return to the capital within the day; otherwise, you will delay the schedule."

"There is no need for that," Arlan replied.

"Pardon?"

"I heard that the ship of the King of Megaris will be making a stop at Selve City in the south. Inform my parents that I will head there as the representative of the royal family to receive our esteemed guests. I will join their group and travel with them towards Abetha."

The messenger dared not question his decision.

"I will convey your words to Her Majesty."

Once the messenger left, Arlan also finished his tea and stood up, intending to return to his room to clean himself up. The other knight, Rafal, had joined them at this point, but just as they left the drawing room, the butler of the manor came to them.

The butler, an old scholarly man called John, bowed. "Your Highness, the Duchess wishes to invite you to dine with her in the rear garden."

Arlan narrowed his eyes towards the servant. In the time it took to drink a cup of tea, it appeared the Duchess had already been informed of his little morning adventure.

He commented, "Seems like the servants here would do well in the art of espionage. Should I write a referral for your people to change jobs?"

"Your Highness, you jest," John said, a cryptic smile on his face as he lowered head.

Arlan mirrored his smile. "Convey my message that I will accompany my lovely sister for a meal."

The butler nodded as he left with his head still lowered.

Arlan would have reacted terribly had another person monitored his actions this extensively, but given the other person was his older sister, he could only accept it, albeit begrudgingly. The prince was a young man in his mid-twenties, an adult through and through, but the Duchess of Wimark still tended to overindulge her younger brother as if he were still a little boy.

Upon returning to his assigned guest room, a warm bath was already waiting for Arlan along with a set of fresh clothes, prepared by the servants even without his instructions.

While removing his bloodied attire, a piece of black fabric fell on the floor from his pocket. It was the headscarf left behind by that brazen trespasser.

As Arlan kept the black cloth aside, an amused glint appeared in his eyes.

'Returning a lost item to its owner is only proper, right?'

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