The Devil's Betrothed novel Chapter 408

Chapter 408: He Tasted My Blood?

Arlan and Oriana made their way back to their separate residences following their visit to the lake. In the meantime, rumors about the Crown Prince taking his betrothed to the lake and the intimate moments they shared had spread like wildfire, effectively dispelling the earlier negative speculation about the Crown Prince’s treatment of his intended.

The news of this development also reached the Oak Palace.

"Is this true?" the King inquired with a cheerful tone as he gazed at his attendant, Garian.

"Yes, Your Majesty. It appears the Crown Prince and his betrothed have come to an understanding," Garian replied.

The King nodded, but the smile on his face was short-lived as he muttered, "Arlan is not one to yield easily, and she is quite the same. The more I think about it..."

The King turned back to Garian. "Any signs of discord between them?"

The two were alone in the gazebo, their conversation shielded from prying ears. Following the events they had witnessed, others had averted their gazes, leaving them in the dark about the exact details.

"And...?" the King prompted.

"The Crown Prince seems to have sustained an injury," Garian said, with a hint of awkwardness. "Your Majesty, there was a wound on his mouth."

The King chuckled, "Just as I expected."

"Your Majesty, you don’t appear concerned."

"If everything were proceeding smoothly between them, that would be cause for concern. However, both of them being forthright about their true feelings is far more preferable than concealing them. You can never predict the actions of those who choose to feign harmony."

"You are consistently wise, Your Majesty," Garian acknowledged. "But what if they continue to engage in such conflicts and never fully accept each other?"

"That lies in the hands of their destinies. For the time being, we can only focus on the present, and the present is meant for them to marry, with Arlan ascending the throne with her at his side," the King stated.

Garian could only nod in agreement.

----

Oriana arrived at the guest mansion, where she missed Ana before going to her chamber. She removed her veil and began to pace around the room.

"Was it just a figment of my imagination, or was I truly tempted to taste his blood? I must speak with Lord Yorian."

"Have you been missing me, Oriana?" she heard the familiar voice as she turned to find the elf sitting on the windowsill as if it was his favourite place. "Saying your name is pure bliss. You should miss me more often, Oriana."

Oriana sighed upon hearing him. "Are you flirting with me, Lord Yorian?"

He chuckled, "It’s delightful to be informal with you, but if you want to call it flirting, I can’t argue."

Oriana hesitated for a moment, uncertain of how to broach the subject. "I happened to... taste..." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "...his blood today."

Yorian regarded her nonchalantly, as if not quite grasping her meaning. "Whose blood?"

"I can’t say whether he recognized it, but did you glean any hints from his reaction?" Yorian inquired.

Oriana shook her head. "I was so angry at the time, in pain and struggling for breath... I mean, I couldn’t pay attention." Her face reddened as she realized how candidly she was confiding in Yorian.

Yorian relished the array of emotions playing out on the Witch’s face.

"Prince Arlan would likely have been taken aback and questioned you if he had realized you possessed divine blood. If he said nothing, it’s probable he didn’t discern it," Yorian explained.

Oriana breathed a sigh of relief. "He already despises me and wants me gone. If he were to discover I’m a Black Witch, he’d probably kill me immediately, given his strong aversion to Black Witches. For my grandfather’s sake, I can’t risk revealing it to him just yet. If he was human, I would have risked but knowing he is Dragon, I surely can not reveal myself to him."

Even Yorian was not sure how Arlan would react knowing Oriana was a black witch. Yorian inquired, "Is there anything else on your mind?"

Oriana contemplated the question and then responded, "In the book I read, it was mentioned that dragons are exceedingly gentle and attentive to their mates, almost like slaves. But can the same dragon be so different with other women, being cruel and even wanting to harm them?"

Yorian chuckled at her words and mumbled, "I don’t see any ’other’ women here."

"What do you mean, Lord Yorian?" she inquired.

He didn’t answer immediately but urged her to continue.

"They can only engage intimately with their mates, right?" she asked.

Yorian nodded.