The Devil's Betrothed novel Chapter 448

Chapter 448: I Trapped Her

Half an hour passed, and Julien started feeling anxious, wondering about Amaya’s well-being or if they had inadvertently put another person in danger. Amaya, having given birth a mere two weeks ago, had endured a difficult delivery and struggled with weakened health owing to substantial blood loss.

Leaving Arlan to her lady-in-waiting, who was quietly waiting outside on her master’s orders, Julien headed to the rear of the palace.

She reached an empty, dimly lit corridor with a few rooms. Julien wondered in which room Edna might be. Just then, the door of one room opened, and a woman’s figure stumbled out, falling to the ground.

Julien recognized Amaya and rushed towards her. She knelt on the floor, cradling Amaya’s injured body in her arms. "Amaya, are you hurt?"

"I-It’s alright," Amaya replied in a pained voice. "I took care of it."

"Did you... kill her...?" Julien asked, concerned that she forgot to tell Amaya they couldn’t kill her.

"I could not, but..."

"Amaya?!" A man’s voice echoed in the corridor as he hurried towards the two women on the floor. He knelt beside them, looking at Amaya with teary eyes. "What have you done?"

"F-Father, I had to do it... Cough!" Amaya coughed up blood.

"Do not talk. Let me take you to the physician," tears streamed down her father’s face at the sight of his injured daughter.

Julien nodded, "Yes, Lord Verner, let’s take her to—"

"No. I can’t be saved. Just listen to what I say. I do not have much time," Amaya said, gathering the last bit of her strength. "I have trapped that witch in this room. She won’t be able to be free ever. But I could not kill her because... cough... killing her will kill the entire royal bloodline... she had cast a curse..." Her weak gaze moved towards her father. "Father, my blood is what trapped her here. Do you understand what I mean?"

Philip nodded, and then Amaya looked at Julien, holding her hand tightly. "Forgive me for bringing all this upon your family... Cough... It was all my fault. But if you ever want to believe in me, just know my words that there is no one in this world who is invincible. One day, someone will appear to rid you of this witch and bring peace to your life. Till then, do everything to protect your family."

Julien could only nod, trying to control her tears. The night had turned ominous, with one unfortunate event following another. How many more people were they going to lose?

Amaya looked back at her father. "Father, take me back home. I want to see my daughter for the last time."

Philip only nodded and lifted his daughter in his arms. As he walked away, a loud scream emanated from the room, followed by Edna’s angry voice. "Amaya, you wench. One day I will avenge what you did to me."

Thud!

With a loud noise, the door of the room closed, making Julien tremble in her place.

A month later, on another full moon night, Karla, who still served as Arlan’s nanny, prepared to take him to the witch. Following the witch’s instructions, Julien had to keep Karla by Arlan’s side and refrain from exposing, punishing, or relieving her of her duties. Months passed by, but Julien could not find anyone capable of fighting a witch. Among humans, finding another witch or any supernatural being was like finding a needle in a haystack.

On the night in question, Julien entered Arlan’s room, fully aware of the impending departure. Seeing Karla ready to leave with Arlan, Julien dismissed the servants and confronted the nanny.

"Where are you taking him?" Julien blocked their way.

"Lady Julien, you already know the answer, and if you stop us, you know the consequences as well," Karla replied calmly.

Julien ignored her and knelt in front of Arlan, who was unusually calm. "Arlan, I know you are scared, and you don’t have to..."

"I will go," the little boy’s sweet voice expressed determination.

Julien lifted Arlan in her arms, hugging him closely, and glared at Karla. "So, do you want me to thank her for it? Thank her for turning our lives into hell? You and your wicked master will reach the worst end one day, and you will regret living till that day." Julien left, not waiting to see Karla’s reaction.

---

Back in the present.

"...and since that day, this torment persists," Julien continued to tell Oriana, "Karla would lead Arlan to that witch every full moon night, and I could only bear witness to his suffering. I never found a way to confront the witch or locate someone who could assist me. Let alone reveal Arlan’s suffering to anyone."

Oriana, unable to contain her own tears upon hearing the wicked deeds of the witch, reached out to Julien, offering a comforting touch, and asked, "His Majesty, the King, remains unaware?"

Julien nodded. "We couldn’t risk letting Ailwin know. He was already disturbed and hurt due to sister Helena’s demise. If he were aware about his precious son’s suffering, the only thing that is left behind by his beloved wife, he’d have upended everything, ultimately jeopardizing all their lives. I could not risk it."

She wiped away her tears and continued, "In the upcoming years, it was time for the Crown Prince to undergo training at the academy, where Crown Princes from various kingdoms gather to learn from renowned masters. It’s a longstanding tradition on this continent, and Griven strictly adheres to it. Having secured the witch’s promise not to impede the Prince’s path to kingship, I finally managed to send him away, and the witch had to comply. I believed that once Arlan was distant, she couldn’t exploit his blood, but..." Julien choked on her words.

"But... he somehow returned to her every full moon night, without a miss," Oriana remarked. Witnessing the events in Othinia, she grasped that, regardless of Arlan’s whereabouts, he had to return to that witch on a specific night.

Julien nodded through her tears. "For all those years he was away, I took solace in thinking I had finally shielded him. But years after when Arlan return to the palace after finishing his training and he was a grown up young boy, I discovered he had still been going to that witch for all those years, and I was kept in the dark. He never told me and was suffering alone in silence. I was mistaken to believe I could protect him that way."

"It’s not your fault, Your Majesty. Please don’t cry," Oriana attempted to console her, tending to her own pain.

In this moment, every cruel word Arlan had uttered, every insult thrown Oriana’s way, vanished into insignificance, as if they held no weight. All she knew was that she cared for him and wanted to shield him, ready to endure anything he hurled at her. Her own pain seemed trivial compared to the suffering he had endured for nearly two decades.

After a pause, Oriana inquired, "What happened to my mother after my grandfather took her away, and when did he leave the capital with me?"