248: Are You Scared He Will Hate You?

Are You Scared He Will Hate You?

With Arlan away in the summit conference, Oriana had nothing to do after she had her morning meal. It would be a good time to create those dried flower brooches she promised Yorian and Arlan. The elf wanted one made out of buckwheat flowers, while for the prince…1

Her thoughts strayed to their earlier conversation.

'He said he likes honeysuckles.'

The problem was that Oriana had no  dried honeysuckles in her collection. Since they were rather ordinary flowers, common in the wilderness of Griven, she rarely paid them special attention despite their medicinal use.

'I wonder if they grow them here in the royal palace. They ought to have a native variety here in Nefer. If worse comes to worst, I can go to the market in the city to purchase some.'

Oriana proceeded to find a gardener. It was obvious that the caretaker of the gardens would know best the flowers cultivated within the Royal Palace of Othinia. 

"Oh, yes, Lord Physician!" the gardener exclaimed, recognizing her identity. "We do not have them in shrubs, but as vines that grow in trellises in the pathway garden. Gorgeous bright pinks, oranges, yellows or whites, I tell you!"

The gardener happily led her to the side of the mansion, where there was a small gate for servants to use. Leading towards the gate was a pergola, the walkway trellises covered with sweet-smelling honeysuckles vines. 

This discovery made her pleasantly surprised. She had never strayed to this part of the mansion, thus she had no idea this place existed. She even realized that the small gate was a shortcut to the building next door, which was the guest mansion of Megaris! Instead of leaving through the main gate, she could use this smaller gate next time she visits them.

Oriana sincerely thanked the gardener, and the man left her to resume his work in the front yard.

For the first few minutes, Oriana immersed herself in the fragrance of the honeysuckles. Then, eyeing the multi-colored blossoms, she wondered, 'Which kind of honeysuckle flower does he prefer? I have to make him a gift he will like so he will stop sulking like a little boy.'

She needed to pluck only two or three blossoms to dry and preserve them for a brooch.

She gently touched those colorful flowers. 

'But it is surprising to learn that a royal prince likes these flowers. These are not flowers that get much attention like roses or lilies. What a strange man…'

In the end, she chose to pluck the yellow and white flowers. Once she dried them under the sun, the pinks and oranges would only turn into brown. 

Just as she carefully put them in the small woven basket in her hand, a flash of silver caught her attention.

"Any special occasion that you are collecting these flowers?"

Startled, Oriana turned to look at the elf who was standing under the archway of the small gate. 

"Lord Yorian!"

"May I come in?"

"Of course, my lord." She then replied to his earlier question, "Nothing special. I just needed them for some use."

Yorian walked towards her, his gaze admiring the trellises covered in flowers. "Honeysuckles sure smell nice."

She nodded but said, "I am not that fond of it. It is too heady, too sweet for my liking."

Yorian did not share his opinion on the matter. "Are you in a hurry to go back?"

She shook her head. "I have no task until His Highness returns. Is there anything Lord Yorian wishes to talk about?"

"There is nothing. I was getting a little bored so I thought about having company for a while. I hope you won't mind."

"Of course not," Oriana replied and then strolled along with Yorian towards the rear garden. 

They idly chatted about the decorative and the medicinal use of honeysuckles. They debated about the best mixture when turning it into tea, before jumping into the topic of the best-tasting and most horrible herbal teas. Some time later, their playful banter eased into comfortable silence.

"How have you been holding up lately?" the elf asked, in a kind tone of an elder. "And don't tell me you are fine. I will not believe you."

Oriana lowered her head. She did not know where to start. 

"These days," she started, "I keep wondering about my birth parents."

"From what I remember, you do not know anything about them."

"That is true. Since I am a witch, then one of my parents should be a Black Witch as well. Then, I remembered that witches can sense another witch or warlock in their vicinity… I never sensed that pull from my grandpa. That means he is just a human. 

"I don't even know if he is my paternal or maternal grandfather. He never told me. Sometimes…sometimes I question if we are even blood-related in the first place…What if I am an abandoned baby he adopted out of pity? I…I don't know if I even want to know…"

"Must be hard on you."

A bitter smile appeared on her face. "Also, with my grandfather growing senile, I do not know if I can even trust his memories. The dementia medicine can stop the worsening of his mind, but it will not return the memories he has lost. I worry about the day he forgets me. When that happens, he won't be able to tell me about my past and I will remain ignorant about myself."

"That's really something to worry about," the elf agreed.

"That is why I am getting more and more desperate to get that herb and go back to my grandpa."

"Didn't you make a deal with the King?"

"I did, but…"

"But? Does your resolution waver?" Seeing her lack of response, Yorian asked, "Have you thought about revealing yourself to Prince Arlan?" 

"I want to tell him that I am a woman but things between us are a mess and I…I am yet to have the chance to tell him."

"Just about you being a woman? What about your other secret?"

"My Lord, His Highness hates Black Witches. I am not sure I am brave enough to tell him."

"Are you scared he will hate you?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line but nodded after a while. 

"Him hating you would be hurtful for you, right?"

She kept quiet but she knew Yorian was right. 

"I will be leaving soon so I don't want to create more trouble for myself. All I want is an ordinary and peaceful life with my grandpa, not the kind of life where I will suffer and be discriminated against for being born a Black Witch."

Yorian understood her meaning. He sympathized with her dilemma. After all, he had personally witnessed the persecution supernatural beings experienced in the hands of humans, and even people of their own kind. 

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