(Flashback)
That morning, upon awakening, Oriana found herself nestled in the warmth of her bed, but she recalled last she was by her grandpa’s side. Without lingering on the memory, she gracefully rose from her slumber, refraining from summoning her attendants.
After freshening up, she emerged from her chamber, only to be greeted by a cadre of servants patiently awaiting her presence outside of her chamber. Their countenances bore expressions of relief, and smiles adorned their lips. Finally the Crown Princess was awake and they could prepare her for the wedding.
"Good morning, Your Highness," they chorused in unison.
Ana, eager to speak, was halted by Oriana’s raised hand. Undeterred, Oriana proceeded downstairs, intent on reaching her grandfather. The entrance to Philip’s room closed promptly upon her arrival, leaving Ana and the other attendants perplexed outside. The Crown Princess was clearly not in a favorable mood, and they dared not disturb her.
Following Erich’s instructions, Oriana prepared the prescribed medicine for the ailing man. Once administered, she seated herself on the floor beside the bed, tenderly grasping her grandfather’s hand. With eyes glistening, she gazed upon his frail and pallid countenance, a poignant moment hanging in the air.
"Grandpa, what am I supposed to do?" Oriana whispered in a fragile voice. "Since I killed that witch, fragments of her memories keep haunting me, revealing the past she witnessed. In those memories, I saw..." She suddenly felt a lump in her throat. "...I saw you kill the Queen. You regretted your actions, but why would you do such a thing?" Tears streamed down her face as she wept silently.
At that moment, a tall figure, who had silently appeared inside the room a while ago, approached her and knelt beside her.
Sensing another presence, Oriana opened her teary eyes and turned her face to see the newcomer.
The silver-haired man offered her a compassionate smile. "You seem troubled."
She nodded quickly, and tears gushed out of her reddened eyes intensely.
"Care to accompany me somewhere?" Yorian offered, attempting to wipe away her tears.
"W-Where?"
"Somewhere you might find solace," he replied, extending his hand.
Yorian assisted her in standing, and in the blink of an eye, they vanished from the room. Moments later, they materialized on the grounds of a stately mansion, impeccably maintained but conspicuously devoid of any signs of life in the vicinity.
"What is this place?" she inquired, sensing an inexplicable connection to the surroundings.
"Your family residence," Yorian responded, prompting Oriana to recoil in astonishment and turn to face him.
"Lord Philip Verner’s residence, where you were born," Yorian clarified.
Taking solace in his embrace, she continued to weep. "My grandpa is a murderer... He truly killed his mother... He didn’t even try to save her life... He is indeed a murderer... Why would he do such a thing?"
All the beliefs that had fueled her courage to fight for justice were now shattered. Yet, he was her grandfather, her sole family, the one who had raised her with love and care. How could she bring herself to harbor hatred for him, especially when he lay between life and death?
Yorian continued to tenderly caress the back of her head while holding her in a gentle embrace. He inquired, "Did you discover the reason behind his actions?"
Oriana stifled her sobs against his chest and replied, "No. It’s from the witch’s memory, so I only saw what she saw."
"Hmm, how did he seem after committing the deed?"
"He fled immediately. I witnessed him removing the cloth from its place, his expressions fraught with regret and fear, as if grappling with the weight of his actions."
"Perhaps he didn’t intend to do it?" Yorian suggested.
"But that doesn’t change the fact that he did," she said, tears streaming down her face.
"We can delve into this later. For now, let’s wait for your grandfather to wake up," Yorian advised. "Aren’t you curious to learn about your mother?"
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Devil's Betrothed