364: A Peck

A Peck

The following morning, Oriana woke to a cocoon of comforting warmth in the midst of the cold weather. She nestled into it sheepishly, harboring a wish to extend her slumber a little longer, when a peculiar sensation caught her attention. Her hand, which rested upon a firm and inviting surface, registered rhythmic pulsations beneath it.1

'Why does it feel like someone's heartbeats?' she mused.

With curiosity piqued, Oriana slowly unfurled her eyes, only to be greeted by the sight of a man's chest. She blinked, her gaze momentarily bewildered, as if attempting to dispel the notion that she might be mistaken. Yet, the view before her remained unchanged, and her hand continued to perceive the steady cadence of a heartbeat beneath her touch.

The sensation of familiarity and the comforting scent enveloping her, gradually brought Oriana to a stark realization. It was Arlan who held her close; his hand doubling as a makeshift pillow for her head, while his other hand encircled her slender waist, drawing them closer together. Both of them were ensconced beneath a quilt, cocooned like a pair of lovers.

A whirlwind of questions swirled within her mind. 'How did I end up here? I distinctly remember I was sleeping at a distance from him. He was dead drunk, so it's highly unlikely he brought me here. It seems I inadvertently shifted toward him in my sleep. What a messy sleeper I am,' she chided herself with a faint frown.

With measured care, Oriana raised her head to gaze upon the countenance of the slumbering man. Despite the disarray of their current arrangement, he remained as handsome as ever. His nobility seemed impervious to disruption, even when he lay in a drunken stupor, sleeping like a log. Oriana found herself unable to look away, savoring the comfort of the moment.

'Never knew sleeping with someone can be so comforting. I am used to always sleeping alone,' she mused, her gaze tracing the contours of his face. Her scrutiny settled on his eyes, taking in the thick, arching eyebrows and long, dark lashes.

Suddenly, the memory of his gaze from the previous night flooded her thoughts. His eyes, intoxicated with desire and lust, had possessed an irresistible allure. The way he had looked at her, the recollection of those moments made her heart skip a beat.

Her gaze drifted to his lips, the very lips that had kissed her so passionately the previous night, as though he were intoxicated by a fervent desire to possess her completely. It was a sensation that always led her to surrender willingly to him, but last night had been different. He had compelled her to do something she never thought she would even consider. This man was something else; he had an uncanny ability to assert his influence over her, even in the throes of drunkenness.

'I shall get up before he wakes up. I have to leave as well.'

With great care, she extricated his hand from her waist, shifted the quilt, and slowly ascended to a seated position, ensuring that her movements did not disturb his slumber. Just as she was about to stand up, she hesitated, her gaze lingering on Arlan, who appeared unlikely to stir anytime soon.

Emotions swirled within her, and with a newfound courage, she leaned in towards his face, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. A soft smile graced her lips.

'Goodbye, Your Highness. I don't know how many days it will take for me to see you again.' 

Finally she stood up, tied her hair, put on her head wrap and left the room.

In his slumber, Arlan shifted his hand to his cheek, as if instinctively touching the spot where she had left her kiss. A faint, contented smile played upon his lips as he continued to sleep.

Oriana returned to her chamber, hastily freshening up and dressing. 'I can't afford to be late. I need to hurry,' she reminded herself, a sense of urgency propelling her movements.

However, her brow furrowed as her hand grazed her wrist. "Damn, my wrist hurts," she muttered, the memory of what had caused the pain flooding back. Her face flushed crimson, and she whispered, "That man is certainly a demon. My wrist would have been fallen off if it had gone on any longer."

To get rid of her embarrassment, she vented her frustration by cursing the culprit. Retrieving an ointment, she applied it carefully to her sore wrist.

'This ointment works better when it's covered.' She covered her wrist with a clean cloth strap around it. She glanced at her left wrist. 'This one should be fine with just the ointment. I do use my right hand more anyway.'

With her preparations complete, she grabbed her bag and left her room, only to find Neil and Damien making their way to Arlan's chamber.

'Is he already awake? I expected him to sleep for a few more hours.'

Damien entered the room while Neil paused just outside, observing Oriana's approach.

"Are you departing?" Neil inquired.

Oriana nodded. "Yes, I can't keep them waiting. Has His Highness awakened already?"

Neil nodded in confirmation, and at that moment, Damien emerged from the room. Oriana stole a glance inside, spotting Arlan perched at the bed's edge, his head seemingly weighed down by a hangover.

"His head must be throbbing from the hangover,"

Just then Arlan raised his head and looked at the door, only to have his gaze met with Oriana's who was standing outside. 

As he looked at her, she could not ignore him. She turned to him and went inside the room while Neil and Damien departed to attend to their duties.

"Good morning, Your Highness," she greeted with a respectful bow of her head.

He acknowledged her with a faint nod and continued to regard her in silence.

"Your Highness, Neil will bring a concoction to alleviate your headache," she informed, waiting for his response. However, he remained wordless, his drowsy eyes fixed upon her.

"What's with that look? Does he remember what we did last night?" Anxious thoughts raced through Oriana's mind, causing her heart to quicken its pace.

"Are you leaving?" His unexpected question finally reached her ears, and a wave of relief washed over her.

"Y-Yes, Your Highness," she replied, her head still bowed. Then, to her surprise, he inquired, "What's wrong with your wrist? Have you injured it?"

Her heart leaped momentarily, but she managed to regain her composure. "I seem to have overworked my hand while preparing herbs and crushing them into powder to assist the master in creating new medicines yesterday. Nothing to worry about."

He continued to study her in silence, leaving her feeling somewhat uneasy. 'Why is he so quiet? I should depart before his questions give me a heart attack,' she thought, deciding to take her leave.

"Your Highness, I will take my leave now," she stated, turning to exit the room. But just as she moved, she heard her name.

"Oriana."

She froze in her tracks, unmistakably hearing the man behind her call her name. There was no mistaking it this time.

She slowly turned back to meet his gaze, their eyes locked in a prolonged silence before Arlan broke it.

"Be careful on your journey," he advised.

Oriana snapped back to reality. "I will. Thank you, Your Highness," she responded, her voice laced with gratitude.

The room fell into another silence. Oriana lowered her gaze, offering a courteous bow before finally departing. As she made her way down the hallway, her heart continued to race, leaving her in a state of uncertainty.

'He simply said my name. Why am I so flustered? He knows I am a woman and addressed me by my name. There's nothing unusual about it. I'm overthinking things. Perhaps my heart is too fragile these days, reacting like this even to simple gestures. I really should consider getting some medicine for my heart,' she concluded, seeking to rationalize her reaction.

Meanwhile, Arlan's thoughts were consumed by a different matter.

'How many days must I endure being without her? I must expedite everything and get rid of those traitors, so I can return with Oriana as soon as possible,' he contemplated, a sense of urgency driving him.

Just then, Roman entered the chamber to resume his duties. Arlan wasted no time and addressed him immediately. "Have Alex to meet me today."

"Yes, Your Highness," Roman replied dutifully. "Are you considering departing for Wimark soon?"

Roman was one of Arlan's most trusted confidants, privy to all aspects of his plans.

"We can no longer afford to delay," Arlan asserted firmly.

"Understood, Your Highness," Roman acknowledged, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. "I will also start preparations for another journey for you."

Meanwhile, on the other side, Oriana had embarked on her journey alongside the royal entourage. Once again, she was provided with the finest accommodations, including a separate carriage for her comfort, and every arrangement for a luxurious voyage, from delectable meals to snug bedding.

She smiled contentedly and gazed out of the carriage window, taking in the scenery as it rolled past.

'He said he would accompany me, and we will return together,' a gentle smile played on her lips. 'I can hardly wait for his arrival.'

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