The Devil's Betrothed novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1: It's A Woman

Swish!

Thuk!

Prince Arlan mused, his brow furrowing. "Hmm, it seems I've missed the shot."

"Missed? That's impossible," a well-built man on horseback, a knight, exclaimed in astonishment. "Your Highness, your arrows never stray from their mark!"

Arlan's ocean-blue eyes fixated on the spot where his arrow had landed. He, the Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Griven, a man known as Arlan Cromwell, smoothly drew another arrow from his quiver. With effortless grace, he readied his longbow, the muscles beneath his clothing subtly defined. His dark eyes flickered as a gentle breeze tousled his long, ash-brown hair.

Swish!

Thuk!

"Missed again," Arlan said, a sly grin forming on his initially serious face. "It seems someone is toying with my hunt, Imbert."

"Daring to interrupt His Highness's hunt?" Imbert Loyset, the knight, clenched his teeth and drew his sword. "Your Highness, I'll deliver that trespasser's head to your feet."

"No need," Arlan replied calmly, evoking a perplexed look from Imbert, a loyal knight who awaited his liege's command.

"Someone is redirecting my arrows," Arlan continued, his smirk growing wider as he kept his gaze fixed on the arrow's landing point.

'Someone is playing games with me. This hunt has become quite entertaining. I have a new quarry on this hunting ground, it seems. How intriguing.'

"We cannot let this person go, Your Highness," another knight commented, his fury evident, his hand gripping the horse's reins, poised to act at his liege's signal.

Arlan raised his hand to halt him. "You two, wait here," he whispered, his horse stepping forward, his keen ears straining to detect the elusive movements of his quarry in the dense forest.

"Your Highness..." the second knight started, his concern evident, but Imbert cut him off.

"Don't fret about the Crown Prince. He's more than capable of looking after himself. You know as well as I do, Rafal, that His Highness's orders are unwavering."

"Yes, Commander Imbert," Rafal acquiesced, his gaze following his liege's horse as it galloped deeper into the woods.

Arlan delved further into the thick forest, his focus entirely on tracking down his escaping quarry, a rare prey in this case, not a creature, but a mischievous intruder who had dared to disrupt his leisurely hunt.

This forest was part of the Wimark estate, overseen by his elder sister, Alvera, the Duchess of Wimark. She had long instructed her staff to clear this area of the forest to provide Arlan with a place for his recreational pursuits.

Yet, an intruder had appeared, someone who had dared to breach the Duchess of Wimark's private forest, repeatedly interfering with her brother's tranquil hunt on a ground that should have been empty.

The intruder was undeniably courting danger. They moved with remarkable agility; had Arlan been an ordinary human, the trespasser might have eluded him completely.

In no time at all, Arlan reached the forest's heart. The trees here were densely packed, and the absence of any clear path forced him to dismount and continue his pursuit on foot.

Countless twigs, rocks, and fallen leaves littered the forest floor, but the prince's steps were soundless. He moved like a shadow, his towering form gliding between tree roots, his keen but mischievous gaze locked onto the vague silhouette he'd long detected concealed among the branches.

An eerie silence hung in the air—

Swish!

In the next instant, a dagger materialized in his grip. His throw was so swift and precise that the dagger sailed through the air like a freshly released arrow. This time, Arlan was certain he'd hit the mark.

Rustle!

Rustle!