242: Hitting A Friend

Hitting A Friend

"That's mean, both of you," Yorian disturbed them, his expression like that of an old man berating his own grandchildren. "If all Orian had befriended were wrong people, that counts me in, as well as King Drayce and Queen Seren as well, right? What nonsense. Now, stop this childish squabbling." 

"Apologies, Lord Yorian," Oriana said as she stepped back.

On the other hand, Arlan merely harrumphed, but he also gave ground on the conversation. 

"Going back to the topic of that brooch." Yorian kept Zaria's portrait with a wave of a hand. "I must say, it is a pity that such a lovely handicraft unfortunately fell on an unworthy person. That kind of style reminds me of the craftsmanship of my people, the elves."

Oriana understood the underlying meaning of his words. "I will make one for you as well, Lord Yorian."

"Thank you. Ah, I am not fond of lavender. You can instead use buckwheat flowers."

"As per your wish."

Arlan drummed his fingers on the desk, interrupting the sickeningly friendly chat between his attendant and the elf. "Has your report about that Rosetta woman concluded?"

"There is nothing more to say, Your Highness," she replied, her demeanor returning to that of a subordinate. 

"You are dismissed then." Arlan sounded impatient

Oriana lowered her head, intending to swiftly rid the prince of her presence, but was stopped by Drayce's voice. 

"We appreciate your contributions, Orian. I insist you take a break for the rest of the day. There is no need to stay with us, Megarisians, anymore. Your colleagues must have been worried about you too. You should return to where you truly belong."

Oriana stared at Drayce, as if trying to understand the intention hidden in those red eyes. In the end, she gave him a perfunctory nod.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I will take my leave then."

Arlan was glaring at his friend. He didn't want her to return yet. 

The moment the door closed, Arlan growled at Drayce, "What are you doing, Dray? How can you send her back? Do you want to put her in danger?"

"This is your punishment for being so mean to your mate." Drayce said with a straight face, not showing any mercy to his friend.

"That's between her and me."

"Then the matter of her bleeding and you going crazy over it, it is between you and her as well. Handle your own issues like a man."

"Dray—"

The red-eyed king interrupted him, "Take it as practicing, refining your self-control. This time, I lent you a hand, but what comes after? Where are you going to send her next? Do not forget, human women bleed every month. You have no other option but to get used to it. I believe you won't want to send her elsewhere every month with some flimsy excuse, otherwise it will just expose her identity as a woman."

Arlan wanted to refute, but what Drayce said was the truth. Since he planned to keep Oriana by his side, he needed to… get used to it, as he so kindly put it.

In the end, the blue-eyed prince could only let out an exasperated sigh. 

"Alright. I will try," he agreed, unwillingly, and then he looked at Yorian. "Can you provide me with more of those pouches?"

"What are you talking about, Prince Arlan?" Yorian asked innocently.

Arlan pulled out a small pouch from his pocket and waved it in front of the elf. "I hope it can refresh your memories."

"This useless thing, why do you need it?"

"To suppress my reaction to her scent, what else?"

"I just called that thing useless. Do you still insist on asking for more?"

"What do you mean?" Arlan offered him a displeased glare.

The elf had a look of mischief.

"It's nothing but ordinary sand. It helped you with nothing, except improve your confidence in yourself."

Slam!

Arlan's fist pounded on the table loudly, his furious figure standing up to his full height. The shockwave of his action caused some of the items on the desk to fly off.

"Are you crazy? Has your ancient brain gone senile?! I trusted your words! I trusted you, but you—" His eyes turned red with anger. "What if I had failed? What if I had hurt her? How dare you put her in danger, you damned elf?" 

Arlan strode toward the elf, as if wanting to kill him, but Drayce stood between them to mediate the deteriorating situation. 

"It was done under my request," he admitted.

Arlan's rage-filled eyes turned towards the other man. Before anyone realized the situation, the prince's fist came flying, hitting Drayce's square on the face.

Pin-drop silence followed his actions as nobody moved, and only the sound of Arlan's heaving breaths echoed within the study. Drayce slightly twisted his head, his fingers touching the side of his lips where he felt a bruise would probably form if he were human.

Yet despite receiving a heavy blow, Drayce remained unperturbed. It was indeed reckless, and it was true he had put Oriana in danger. That was why he was willing to accept Arlan's anger.

"Calm down first and let me explain."

It took a long time for the scarlet color in Arlan's eyes to go away, yet though he had regained composure, his expression remained stiff, anger palpable in the air around him.

"Reason the same," Drayce spoke in a low voice, "to train your to control."

"You. Have. Put. Her. In. Danger!" 

It was quickly becoming obvious that the mere thought of danger befalling his mate agitated Arlan, to the point that he was on the verge of rampaging in anger. 

"But she returned unharmed," Drayce shot back. "She was safe, all thanks to your ability to control the beast and your genuine worry towards her."

"You—"

"Why can't you trust yourself, Arlan?" Drayce asked. "You could do it. You did it. All on your own. You don't need any enchantment or artifact or outside help in the first place. The solution to your problem is inside you.  All you need is to trust yourself. You did it once, and you will be able to do it again and again and again. You can control that beast. You can live with Oriana like a normal man. There is no need to hurt her or push her away to keep the distance between you two. I was wrong to take your personal matters into my own hands, but it was necessary to let you see the truth."

Drayce's eyes squarely met Arlan's gaze. Neither of them moved nor spoke.

After some time, the prince returned to his place behind the desk and sat with his head lowered, supported by his hand. 

"I was wrong to hit you," he said in a resigned tone, his face hidden from them. 

Yorian tactfully used this chance to withdraw.  "If I may excuse myself, I shall take my leave, King Drayce, Prince Arlan."

After the elf vanished into thin air, Drayce sat back in his earlier seat and didn't speak, giving his friend ample time to collect himself. 

The sun outside the window was beginning its descent towards the horizon, casting streaks of red and orange against the fading blues. Arlan began to speak. "Do you know the only time I can be with her without worrying about controlling that thing?"

Drayce did not reply, and there was no need to. Arlan raised his head, looking at the other man with a tired gaze. 

"It's only when I am drunk, I can be myself." A brittle smile appeared on his handsome face. "But that time doesn't even last long. That short time turns me desperate and makes me want more from her. That desperation makes me do something that I should not."

A helpless chuckle then escaped his lips as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes gazing at the far horizon. 

"The next day, I have to act like nothing happened. It is cowardly but if I don't act that way, I am scared…scared that I have to answer her and then I have to accept her. If I accept her, I worry that I would hurt her in a way that will make me regret everything. 

"All I want to do is to protect her from myself, Dray. You think I am being stubborn, but it is not that. I am weak. I am not as strong as you, nor am I as strong as you imagine me to be. I know myself best."

Drayce could not understand the thoughts running inside Arlan's head, but he could see the helplessness in his gaze. 

"But you cannot continue to be like this, running away, acting like a scoundrel to her, demeaning her. It won't solve anything. Do you want her to grow to hate you? You are meant to be together."1

"It has to continue," Arlan responded. "Until I can confidently control myself and that beast, till then, things will remain the same between us. Allow me to solve this on my own."

"Alright. I apologize again for stepping out of line. I should have not asked Yorian to trick you."

"Your good intention, I appreciate it, but not at the cost of putting her in danger."

"I understand," Drayce turned to go. "I will head back to my Queen now—"

"Wait!"

Drayce stopped and offered him a questioning gaze. 

"If that brooch had a scent which can make humans dizzy, then why didn't it affect Oriana?"

Drayce raised a brow. "Yorian had given her an antidote beforehand." 

Of course, he could not tell Arlan that his mate was not a human, at least not now. He no longer wished to overly meddle in Arlan's and Oriana's affairs. As the saying goes, 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.' Drayce did not want unintended consequences to happen between these pair of mates, especially not when Arlan was unstable and he had deep hatred towards Black Witches.

"Hmm, that explains it." 

Arlan easily accepted his friend's words, and he relished in the silence of his study even long after his friend disappeared.

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