The Devil's Betrothed novel Chapter 348

Chapter 348: Questioning Imbert

Resolute, she shrugged off Imbert’s’ hand and knelt beside the Prince. Her eyes full of shock as she saw his torn and blood-stained shirt clinging to his body. Her heart raced at the sight of the blood, and she called out to him, "Your Highness," but received no response.

Setting aside the fact that ominous black magic was surrounding him, Oriana carefully tore Arlan’s shirt apart to inspect his chest with her trembling hands but found no visible wounds. Confusion gnawed at her, and she looked at the bloodstains on the carpet under the chair and the desk top, her mind racing for answers.

It was clear that the shirt was torn due to multiple brutal stabs from the dagger on the chest, as If showing no mercy on the person.

If there is no wound then from where this blood came from? Other than using the black magic on the Prince, were they hurting him as well?

Imbert, kneeling beside her, attempted to touch Arlan’s body, but Oriana stopped him. "Don’t touch him. You know it well."

"It’s all right," Imbert repeated calmly, mirroring Oriana’s earlier response to when he stopped her from touching the Prince’s body.

He gently held Arlan’s wrist, finding it free of any marks. He lowered it and assured, "He is not injured."

"But this blood?" Oriana pressed, her gaze flitting between the stains on the floor and the table.

Imbert hesitated, reluctant to answer her directly. Instead, he suggested, "Let’s change His Highness’ clothes and help him into bed."

Although Oriana had a multitude of questions swirling in her mind, she complied with Imbert’s instructions. Together, they changed Arlan’s attire, carefully wiped his body clean, and then dressed him in a sleeping robe before gently placing him in bed, hoping to provide some comfort to the troubled prince.

Oriana carefully draped a cozy blanket over Arlan, her hand registering the chill in his body. She began to gently rub his icy palms within her petite hands while Imbert hurried to stoke the fireplace with additional logs. The onset of winter in Griven was unmistakable, with temperatures steadily plummeting in the night, foreshadowing even more frigid days ahead.

Ensuring Arlan’s was fine with Oriana at his side, Imbert was about to depart the room when a call from Oriana stopped him in his tracks. "Sir Loyset."

Imbert paused and turned to face the young servant who approached him.

She reached him and spoke, "Please allow me to check your pulse."

Though he comprehended her intentions, Imbert declined, "I am fine."

"Sir Loyset, you are aware that it’s evil black magic. As you have touched the Prince’s body, I need to check."

"You should be concerned for yourself, given your involvement," he retorted, his voice firm and cold.

"Black Magic can’t affect me. Please do not ask the reason. I just need to make sure you are fine."

"Take care of His Highness."

Imbert, the stoic knight, turned and departed from the chamber, closing the door behind him with a quiet finality.

Oriana’s thoughts retraced to their time in Othinia, recalling how Imbert had assisted her in placing Arlan in bed and had touched the prince’s body but he was fine. At that time she had ignored this fact because she was not familiar with Black magic either.

’If Sir Loyset claims he’s unharmed, then he likely is,’ she reasoned. Imbert had faithfully served by His Highness’s side for an extended period, and considering the peculiar incidents that occasionally occurred with the Prince, it made sense that his personal knight would have taken precautions.

Returning to Prince Arlan’s bedside, Oriana settled herself at the edge, her eyes fixed on his restless and pale face. Till few weeks back, he was the same person who bullied her, teased her, troubled her in all way possible and now he was lying in bed helpless and weak like this.

She gently extended her hand to gauge his temperature, only to find that his body had grown even colder since she had left his side.

’Why is his temperature dropping?’ she wondered, her concern deepening. She then proceeded to check his pulse. ’His body is weakened and can’t endure the cold. No medicine would have any effect on him either. The last time, King Drayce and Yorian assured me that he would recover naturally with rest, and I wouldn’t need to intervene.’

She fetched another blanket and tenderly draped it over Arlan, hoping to shield him from the chill. Anxiously, she lingered by his side, yearning for the moment he would regain warmth. However, instead of easing, the creases of distress on his face deepened, leaving her increasingly troubled.

’The room is already warm enough and with two blankets even he is shivering. Seems like it’s not because of the weather but the effect of the black magic. What shall I do?’