The Devil's Betrothed novel Chapter 25

Chapter 25: You Dare Sleep In My Bed

’It bloody hurts!’

The moment Oriana opened her eyes, she immediately regretted it. The gentle morning light was blindingly painful for her, and her head pounded like it would explode with the gentlest movement. She could barely feel her limbs, her body feeling heavier than usual.

’Ugh, my head. It’s like someone is hitting me repeatedly on the head with a rock,’ she groaned in discomfort.

She rolled around the bed, intending to not get up until the pain went away. Did she get the common cold? Her grandfather probably wouldn’t mind her sleeping in, especially with the soft bed and these fresh sheets—

’Huh? Soft bed?’

Alarms went ringing in her head and she tried to open her eyes, only to have her blurry vision shock her. Unfamiliar painted walls with a single framed painting, a clean room with two doors, a plain flat ceiling without a single wooden beam, unlike the thatched roof of her wooden cabin...

’Am I dreaming?’

Her body swayed as she attempted to sit up, but in the end, she could only slumped back to the comforts of the pillows while rubbing the sleep off her face.

"I must be dreaming—"

"You are not dreaming, Shortie."

That voice! That annoyingly unruly voice!

It was as if each nerve of her body was lit with fire.

’An unfamiliar room, a fatigued body, a night I could not remember...It can’t be?!’

Oriana turned her head so fast, she almost snapped her neck. To her horror, she saw the handsome nobleman standing by the open window, holding an unsheathed sword in hand, his ocean blue eyes staring at her with unfathomable interest.

Her body shot up to a sitting position, which brought her head a new wave of throbbing pain.

"You—Where are we? Why am I here? Ah..." She wanted to cry as she cradled her head. ’Damn it.’

"You should ask that to yourself," Arlan answered as he ran his finger along the sharp edge of his sword.

’Why am I with this brat? What happened last night? Did something—’

Her hands moved to touch her body, but upon finding herself fully clothed, not a single piece missing, the terror in her heart lessened.

’Ugh, I should stop listening to too much old wives’ gossip. A lady spending an intimate night with a stranger—such nonsense tales only happen in romance books. Besides, I am dressed up as a man. This noble brat wouldn’t be a pervert interested in young lads...right?’

Oriana eyed the simple interior of the room. Though it was a pretty large room, there were no personal objects within that showed it was a person’s bedroom. This should not be Arlan’s bedchamber. If her guess was right, they should be inside a rather high-class inn, one where a single night costs a month’s worth of a commoner’s hard labor.

She tried to recall how she ended up here, but all she remembered was her drinking thoughtlessly and then everything blanked.

’Wait, why do I feel like I punched someone?’ Glancing at her right knuckle, she found it skinned. Her hazel eyes widened at her wild guess. ’Don’t tell me... Did I hit this brat? I have committed a crime! No wonder he’s holding his sword...’

Suddenly her expressions changed as Oriana pressed her lips in a thin line as if she was being bullied. Her thoughts were a mass of confusion at this moment but there was something else as well.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Arlan as if felt little shocked at sudden change in her.

"What happened?" he asked.

"M-My bladder is going to burst if I can’t relieve myself in this instance! I can not hold it any longer." she said in almost crying voice.

He moved back and pointed towards one of the door our of two, "Bathroom is there."

Like a flash of lightning, Oriana jumped out of the bed, ran towards the bathroom and closed the door. She was welcomed by the view of beautiful bathroom, the kind she had never seen in her life. There was a large mirror, a sink with a basin of clean water, as well as a tub and chamberpot on the corner.

Private washrooms were a concept most commoners were unfamiliar with; only rich merchants and those of nobility could afford that kind of luxury in their residences. Even Oriana had only heard from rumors this kind of arrangement and never personally experienced it.

’This brat sure seems to be so rich. Ah...Forget it, let me relieve myself first.’

Meanwhile, Arlan finished wiping his sword and sheathed it back to its scabbard. His eyes were filled with mirth as he stared at the close door.

Only this woman had courage to act like this, yelling in front of a man about wanting to relieve her bladder. There was nothing ladylike about her, but that was the main reason why Arlan found her existence entertaining.

In the end, Arlan was a gentleman with manners. It would be rude to wait and listen to her morning affairs. Just as he thought of leaving the room and waiting for her downstairs, he heard her mumbling thanks to his sharp hearing.

"Bloody hell, how much did I drink to pee this much? It’s not stopping at all. I swear if I had not peed now, I was going to lose my bladder."