229: With Whose Permission?

With Whose Permission?

Late in the afternoon, Martha came to Oriana's room.2

"A servant from Griven came with a message for you. He is waiting downstairs.". 

Oriana had a bad premonition, but she followed Martha out to see a familiar face waiting by the foyer. It was Damien. "What happened?"

"His Highness has summoned you back, Orian," her fellow attendant explained. 

She followed the young man after bidding Martha a few words of gratitude. Martha could only watch her leave, aware why she was called by Arlan. Thick worry could be seen in her eyes. 

'It has not even been a week since she learned the truth about her identity as a witch. I am not sure how many shocking things this child will have to witness in the coming days. I hope she can stay strong.'

Upon reaching the guest mansion of her own kingdom, Oriana was asked to go to the study of the prince. Each step of hers seemed to echo the growing nervousness in her heart. The last memory she had with Arlan was…well, it remained fresh in her mind, and she didn't know how to face him. She pressed a hand over her heart, berating herself for feeling anxious.

'I can do this.'

Inside the study, someone was saying similar words out loud.

"You can do this."

It was the King of Megaris, and his words were directed towards Arlan who was rigidly sitting behind the large desk. The prince was akin to a statue made of stone, his muscles tense, veins protruding from his hands, the lack of sleep for the past couple of days showing up as faint shadows underneath his eyes. It made his appearance appear harsher and more solemn, unapproachable even.

"Calm down," Drayce spoke once more. "You will scare anyone by behaving like this." 

"If you find any change in me, remember your promise. You are responsible for protecting her from me. I mean it, Dray," Arlan warned. 

"I know," Drayce assured. "If not for that, I wouldn't want to spectate you disciplining your own person."

"This favor from—She is here." Arlan's gaze was trained on the door. He could smell that lovely scent of honeysuckles, deeper and more enticing this time, mixed with her womanly fragrance, approaching the study, forcing Arlan to hold his breath as he clenched his fists.

"This scent…is..so, so tempting," he said through gritted teeth. 

"Willpower, my friend," was all the young king could say.

"This dumb beast…" Arlan closed his eyes momentarily to get control over urges brewing inside him. 

There was a knock on the door of the study, as well as Imbert's announcement of Oriana's arrival. 

"Let him in," came Arlan's response, sounding sharp and icy.

Entering the study, Oriana noticed Arlan first, those ocean blue eyes deep and piercing, causing her to almost turn around and run this very moment. Her instinct was screaming at her. Arlan was emitting a formless but strikingly dangerous aura, and perhaps if not for his friend staying inside the same room, Oriana would have thought that the man she was facing was not her master, but the devil himself. 

However, Drayce's presence didn't exactly make her feel safe. Both men gave her a sense of pressure. A little anxious, her gaze searched for the comforting presence of the silver-haired elf, but Yorian was not with them. She gulped.

"This servant pays respect to His Highness the Crown Prince and his esteemed guest, the King of Megaris."

Several seconds passed, yet Oriana kept her body lowered in a respectful bow, not changing her posture without the explicit permission from her master. However, Arlan did not speak even after a minute had passed. The silence within the study was suffocating, his gaze on her  making her feel like she had committed a grave crime. 

Complicated emotions burst within her heart, but she dared not show any change on the surface.

On the other hand, Arlan did not know his silent scrutiny of her had caused a severe misunderstanding to begin between them. He had not seen her since that night, and for a moment, there was both relief and bitterness in his eyes. He wanted to make sure she was alright.

Arlan missed her. He terribly missed her. Ever since that night, he yearned to see her, to at least catch a glimpse of her face even once, yet he was afraid that he could not control himself. Drayce believed he could do it…but Arlan knew he was not strong. He never was. If he was, he would not have hurt Oriana in the first place. He would have been able to calmly deal with his problem… 

Her sweet face was paler than what he remembered, her eyes lacking that original brightness. Calm and composed, indifferent and hardened… which was not her way of carrying herself. 

The prince could only blame himself. It was all his fault that her attitude towards him changed, but it could be considered the lesser of two evils. Even up till now, his mind and his body were battling each other, and his sanity was holding onto this thin thread on the verge of snapping.

He hated to admit it, but when it came to Oriana, he felt like he was always on the losing side of the battle.

"You may rise." Arlan drew a long breath, before leaning forward in his armchair, his arms resting on the table with his fingers interlaced. "I heard you went to the Thevailese delegation."

"Yes, Your Highness," she answered. Though she straightened her body, her head was still lowered. 

"With whose permission?" Arlan asked, his voice cold and authoritative. 

The temperature within the study dropped.

"It was an emergency and Your Highness was busy at the summit. It would have been too late if I were to wait for Your Highness—"

"With whose permission?" Arlan asked once more.

"I apologize—"

Arlan cut her off. "I will not ask the same question thrice, Orian."

"...no one, Your Highness," she replied as she controlled her emotions from spilling out. She wanted to remain civil. "It was of my own volition."

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