The following morning, the royal troops stood ready to depart. Multiple carriages and horses were arranged, as two separate groups were leaving simultaneously. One group belonged to the Prince, while the other was under the command of the Commander of the knights.
The Prince’s carriage exuded regal elegance, adorned with the Thistle Palace crest. The carriage prepared for Oriana and her grandfather was not ordinary either, bearing the emblem of the Oak Palace, symbolizing the King’s authority.
Had it not been for the Prince’s stubbornness, his betrothed would have proudly displayed the Thistle Palace crest on her carriage.
The Duke and Duchess of Wimark arrived at the guest mansion where Oriana was lodged. The Prince’s troop had already reached the location, allowing them to proceed with Commander Loyset’s unit.
Stepping out of his carriage, Arlan approached the Duke and Duchess of Wimark.
"Be good on the way," Alvera offered a warning look to her brother. She knew what he could do.
"I can not guarantee that," he replied, displaying unwavering determination.
She sighed at his stubbornness. "When will I get to see you next?
"I will try to visit you soon."
"How about I come to the palace later?" she suggested. "Don’t refuse. I won’t stay long, but I’ll come once all matters are settled, and you won’t be burdened like this."
Unable to resist her plea, Arlan finally relented. "All right."
As they conversed, another carriage pulled up to the scene, drawing the attention of all three of them. Alvera couldn’t help but mutter, "This girl, when did she wake up?"
A small figure emerged from the carriage with the help of her nanny. Wrapped in a thick overcoat to shield against the morning chill, she resembled a cute little furball. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and her face still bore the marks of sleep.
"Uncle, you were about to leave without seeing me?" she complained, her eyes accusing the man.
Arlan knelt down to match her petite stature and replied, "I didn’t want to wake you from your slumber, my little sweet."
"Don’t call me that and pretend to be sweet now. You’ve been upsetting me lately. Don’t you love me anymore? Since you found my aunt, will you only love her? That’s what men do, right? They find their women, and then they only love each other. Are you going to do the same, Uncle?"
Arlan was momentarily rendered speechless and glanced at his sister. "What exactly have you been teaching her?"
"She learns more from her two uncles than her own parents. It’s the result of both of my brothers having shameless mouths," Alvera responded.
Arlan turned his attention back to Rayjin and reassured her, "Uncle loves you the most and always will."
"Then my aunt will be sad if you don’t love her," the little girl contemplated as if deep in thought. "Okay, Uncle can love my aunt a little more than me. I won’t be upset."
Arlan struggled to find the right words and instead, he embraced her petite furball-like figure and tenderly arranged her disheveled hair. "My Rayjin is as sweet as ever."
The little girl beamed and planted a kiss on Arlan’s cheek. "My uncle is the sweetest."
Just then, the guards shifted as someone emerged from the guest mansion. They carefully placed the elderly man on a stretcher, preparing to transfer him into the carriage.
"Who’s that?" Rayjin inquired, concern evident in her voice. "Is Grandpa not feeling well?"
Reluctantly, Arlan nodded.
She turned her gaze to her uncle. "Will he be okay?"
Once again, he could only nod. As young as she was, she needed to see and know only the positive side of things.
"Please be careful," a woman’s voice called out as she approached, directing the guards responsible for carrying her grandfather.
She was dressed in a simple yet elegant peach-colored travel attire designed for women. Her long hair was neatly braided, and she wore minimal, delicate accessories. The lower half of her face was veiled with a fine fabric.
Arlan glanced at her, not needing confirmation of her identity. Her mere presence in the vicinity was enough to confirm her existence.
Rayjin ran towards her, without letting anyone a chance to say anything. She stopped in front of Oriana and held her hand, almost startling a worried woman.
Oriana gazed down at the familiar face of the little girl who was looking up at her. "So, you’re my aunt. I finally got to meet you."
Oriana recognized that the young girl was Arlan’s niece. During her previous visit, she had encountered this delightful child who had been nothing but kind to her. She had even offered her favorite candy to Oriana. However, when Rayjin questioned whether she was her aunt, Oriana was taken aback. freewebnøvel.com
Although this girl was sweet, Oriana had no desire to be associated with any familial ties. There was only one relationship that could define them, and that was adversaries.
"I am not..."
"You’re right, Rayjin," Alvera interjected as she approached them. "She is your aunt."
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