286: Not Allowed To Leave Me

Not Allowed To Leave Me

"W-What…do you know…?" The words that escaped her lips were barely a panicked whisper.2

In a surge of raw emotion, Arlan closed the gap between them, their faces close enough to make her feel his breath fanning against her cheeks. 

"I know," he simply said, his voice laced with apology and something else, "so you are not allowed to leave me. Stay by my side like nothing has changed."

In his earnest voice was a silent plea.

'He knew…? Does he really? Since when…?'

Oriana's resistance crumbled as nervousness began to set in. 

"Your Highness—"

He put a finger on her lips to stop her from speaking. "You are not permitted to speak, unless it is to say that you will stay by my side."

Her heart raced, and its heartbeats were so loud it seemed to drown everything else. She closed her eyes momentarily as questions flooded her mind. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, she witnessed a side of him she never expected to see again. 

Vulnerable and weak.

She forced herself to swallow her questions. She wanted to ask when and how he knew about her secret, but she could not make herself ask. The man looked like he didn't want her to speak about it anymore. 

"Can you do that?" His voice was low and hoarse, asking her to simply obey him. 

"Your Highness—"

"If your answer is not what I want to hear," he replied, his gaze intently moving towards her trembling lips, "then it will be better for me to seal that mouth shut."

She understood the meaning of his words and his gaze, and for some reason, the urge to defy him and willingly receive such punishment arose within her.

The unspoken desire went both ways.

Arlan struggled to keep his yearning at bay. At this moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to yank that headwrap off of her head, to grab a fistful of her hair and to kiss her fiercely in that unforgiving mouth of hers. He wanted to declare his ownership for her in a way a man would possess his woman, to let her know what exactly he felt for her.

But he could not.

It pained him, but because he was Arlan Cromwell, a royal prince entangled in the complicated and dangerous world of supernatural beings, he would never be able to do so. There was a seemingly never-ending list of reasons why he could never have Oriana as a woman in his life. 

For the moment he accepted her, she would be in mortal danger. 

'So stay by my side as is,' he could only wish selfishly.

"Can you do that?" he repeated.

His voice, his gaze, how could Oriana have the heart to refuse? She ended up nodding. It was as if she would say 'yes' to anything he would ask her.

Even after she nodded, Arlan didn't let her go. 

It was as if time had stopped as both continued to stare into each other's eyes. There was unspoken understanding between them, and no more words were needed to be said.

Just then, the sound of thunder disturbed the two. The first drops of rainfall brought them back to their senses. 

She panicked at the realization of their closeness. "I-It's raining…"

Unwillingly, Arlan let her go. "You should head inside."

Oriana didn't have to be told twice. She turned around and ran away as if she was escaping from a pursuer. It was not that she was embarrassed, but she needed to sort her thoughts out. 

Arlan watched her running away towards the mansion. Meanwhile, he allowed himself to be drenched in the rain. He tilted his head skyward, closed his eyes and let the rain hit his face, as if wishing for the raindrops to wash away all his burdens that he was carrying alone for long time. 

While the ignorant prince worried about putting his mate in grave danger, he was unaware that the very woman he wished to protect had dove head first into danger in order to pull him out of the mess he was in, an act of quenching poison with poison. 

Oriana was much stronger than Arlan could ever imagine.

Because Rafal and Imbert had their backs facing the garden, they were oblivious about what happened between the Crown Prince and his aide. They only turned around upon hearing Oriana's urgent footsteps, running towards them. To their surprise, she ran past them without a word, as if she didn't see them. 

"What's with him? He looks like a wet chick. Is it the rain or did he fall into the lake again?" Rafal frowned. Although his tongue was vicious, the worry in his eyes betrayed the irritationanger he was showing on the surface. 

"He is fine," Imbert replied.

Rafal was taken aback, wondering if his captain caught him and said as an excuse, "I don't care whether he is fine or not. How dare a village boy run past knights without greeting them? Impudent lad."

Imbert didn't comment. His junior was tough on the surface, but soft inside. He thought he succeeded in portraying a tough persona, but every knight in the Order of Thistle knew how kind Rafal truly was.

Portraying a tough persona, hiding their real thoughts, it was not just Rafal. Imbert himself was the same. Most of the knights were like that. Afterall, the moment they swore fealty to their liege, they were akin to tools who would absolutely obey their liege's orders and turn a blind eye to their liege's secrets without questions. 

Such was the code of knighthood.

Among the knights Imbert met, there was a certain man who didn't seem to fit the persona of a proper knight, acting more like a nosey countryside boy, nagging and nagging endlessly. Imbert frowned at the thought of that nosey knight who found every opportunity to talk to him even if he did his best to avoid him. 

Sir Azer Brayden, that living annoyance from Megaris.

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