The Devil's Betrothed novel Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Arlan's Runaway Betrothed

The midday meal was arranged in the gazebo of the garden.

A beautiful woman in her late twenties was standing in front of the table where a luxurious spread of food was arranged. Like Arlan, she too had blue eyes and ash brown hair, the trademark appearance of those with royal blood, only hers were a hue lighter. In her slender arms, there was a small bundle of joy making adorable cooing sounds.

She was Arlan's older sister, the wife of the Duke of Wimark and the First Princess of Griven, Alvera Cromwell Wimark. The newborn baby was her second child, the first son of the WImark Household and its future lord, Ryan Wimark.

"My dearest sister, I heard you miss me?" Arlan asked as he approached the pair.

He was now clad in a light blue breasted jacket with a decorative white military cape over his shoulders. The buttoned cuffs of his white-trimmed sleeves were patterned with an oak tree design, the emblem of virtue and strength which was also the symbol of the Cromwell Royal Family.

The blue-eyed man's appearance transformed from a dangerous hunter into that of a dashing prince in white. His smile was as bright as sunlight, giving onlookers an impression that the Crown Prince was a gallant and good-natured man.

Alvera merely glanced at her cheeky brother before returning her attention to her son. "Little Ryan, as I was saying, do not be like your First Uncle. That careless brat hurt himself for no good reason. Hmph!"

"Your servants are good spies. Do you mind transferring some of them to my service?"

Only then did Alvera face the grinning man.

"Hah, you speak as if that dark squad working under you are unskilled. Those men you trained could even infiltrate the kingdoms of Abetha and Thevailes. Why are you poaching my people?"

"Of course, I still need to expand my network not just in the neighboring kingdoms, but the rest of the continent. Talented people I can trust are far and few between—"

"Stop, stop, I do not want to hear more of your bragging." Though her voice sounded annoyed, she eyed his waist with a somewhat worried gaze. "How's your wound?"

"Healed, of course. Such a small scratch disappears in a matter of seconds on its own. You know your brother is no ordinary human."

The woman sighed in relief. "Tell me the appearance of the culprit. I will order the city guards to release a warrant on the entire duchy."

"No need. I will get that person on my own."

There was a silent understanding between the siblings. Despite her reluctance, Alvera respected his wishes. She knew her brother well—once he set his mind, it was impossible to change his decision.

"Did I keep you waiting for long?" they heard someone speak, causing them to look at the newcomer.

Duke Rhys Wimark, Alvera's husband, was a tall and handsome-looking man a decade older than Arlan. The brown-haired man was wearing a knee-length coat with a rather intricate gold design, his attire indicating that he had been outside for official matters and had only recently returned to the estate. His brown eyes emitted the warmth that he had after seeing his wife and son.

"I am back, my dear." He kissed his wife on the forehead before poking his son's chubby cheek with a finger of his gloved hand. The man then observed the brother and sister. "Did I interrupt something important?"