The Devil's Betrothed novel Chapter 421

Chapter 421: Possessive Witch

Meanwhile, at Oriana’s residence, after dismissing her servant for the night, Oriana prepared herself in her male disguise. She examined the clock, realizing that Arlan would soon leave the palace.

Just as she finished preparing, the elf appeared in her room, and Oriana acknowledged, "I am ready."

The elf reminded her, "You need to conceal your essence."

Oriana nodded in agreement, knowing the importance of hiding their presence. They both began to chant spells to mask their essence, ensuring that Arlan or the witch wouldn’t detect them through their power signatures or scents.

The elf extended his hand, which Oriana took, and in the next moment, they found themselves on the top floor of Erich’s mansion. From there, they had a clear view of the Queen’s residence.

As expected, Arlan had arrived. He dismounted his horse and proceeded to the rear hallway of the Queen’s guest mansion, where not a single guard was in sight, unaware of the Crown Prince’s nocturnal visits and the torments he endured on every full moon night.

As Oriana watched Arlan walking towards the eerie, quiet section of the Queen’s residence, her heart sank. In the darkness, under the luminous full moon, she strained to discern any trace of emotion on his face. Yet, to her dismay, he appeared emotionless, as if he were just an empty vessel. She clenched her fists, struggling to contain her anger and frustration. All she could think of was how she would make that witch pay for her actions.

Yorian gently placed his hand over her clenched fist, an attempt to soothe her. Oriana, feeling the warmth on her cold hand, glanced at his hand and then met the elf’s eyes, her own glistening with moisture.

"You must maintain your composure, no matter what you witness or feel," Yorian said calmly, his reassuring gaze conveying that everything would turn out well.

She nodded in understanding and asked, "Shall we depart now?"

Yorian shook his head. "Considering how far that door is in the corridor and taking into account Prince Arlan’s walking speed, he hasn’t reached it yet. We also don’t know if the door opens immediately when he arrives, or..."

"It opens immediately," Oriana interjected. "I saw it in his vision. It’s as if that witch can sense his presence and opens the door right away."

"Let’s wait a few more moments," Yorian advised, and they both remained in place.

"Why didn’t he teleport here instead of riding a horse?" she wondered.

"He can’t use his powers. The witch likely requires his blood at its highest potency, and using his powers would lower it," Yorian explained, further fueling her clenched fists.

"When you’re ready and calm, we can leave," the elf reassured her.

Oriana took a few deep breaths to calm herself and then nodded resolutely. "I’m ready."

Holding her hand, Yorian activated his teleportation magic, and they appeared at the start of the long corridor. Oriana scanned the corridor for any sign of Arlan, but he was nowhere in sight, indicating that he had already entered the room.

"I will come when it’s necessary. We can’t reveal all our cards at once. Besides, I don’t want Prince Arlan to know I’m with you just yet."

She nodded in understanding, and they decided to wait. As Oriana stared at the door, her thoughts were filled with what that witch might be doing to Arlan at that very moment. Every passing moment felt like torment, making her increasingly impatient.

As they stood waiting, the silence in the corridor was oppressive, and the darkness of the night seemed to press down on them. Oriana couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever have the chance to confront the witch who held such power over Arlan, and if she could free him from her grasp.

Nearly half an hour had ticked away, and yet, the door remained firmly shut. "What could they possibly be up to? Why is it taking them so long?" Oriana’s voice was a quiet murmur tinged with impatience and anxiousness.

Yorian couldn’t help but chuckle at her restlessness. "Are you entertaining thoughts of something inapropriate is transpiring behind those doors?"

It only added to her anger. "I cannot trust that witch," Oriana replied, her tone laden with possessiveness as if someone was coveting what belongs to her.

’I thought only beasts are highly possessive in nature but seems like witches are no less in comparison, ’ the elf thought. Even in the midst of this tense situation, Yorian found himself smiling at her possessive streak, struggling to suppress a laugh. He contemplated teasing her a bit more. "Well, if something inapropriate is happening, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time for Prince Arlan. No need to worry about him."

His words stoked her ire, prompting Oriana to stride purposefully toward the door. "If she lays a finger on him, I’ll make her regret it," she declared fiercely. Just as she advanced, a creaking sound filled the air — the unmistakable sound of the door slowly swinging open.

Both Oriana and the elf stood on high alert, their eyes fixed on the opening door.