The Devil's Betrothed novel Chapter 482

Chapter 482: Ignored

After lying unconscious for days, her first conscious thoughts centered solely on him. The depth of her feelings for him was something only he could truly comprehend now.

"Oriana," Yorian called out softly.

She turned toward the elf, her eyes filled with anxiety. Scanning the room, her gaze landed on Arlan, who stood nearby alongside two other figures. A wave of confusion washed over her, but upon seeing Arlan, relief flooded her. But at the same time she wondered if it was a dream.

Yorian could understand her and answered her confusion. "Prince Arlan is completely alright, safe and sound."

She continued to stare at Arlan wordlessly. He was alive; what she’d experienced had merely been a harrowing nightmare.

Just as Arlan prepared to address her, Oriana averted her gaze, whispering to Yorian with a weary voice, "I feel drained. My head is throbbing."

"I understand. You’ll improve since you’re awake now," Yorian reassured.

Without responding, Oriana tightened her brows, shutting her eyes.

Arlan remained rooted to the spot, recognizing her silent message. She was deliberately ignoring him. While not unexpected, given the gravity of recent events, it was a clear sign of her deep-seated anger toward him.

Others observed Oriana’s response to Arlan, though they tactfully chose to remain uninvolved, recognizing it as a matter between the two. At present, Oriana was in a fragile state and required care.

"Yorian, give this to her," Evanthe instructed, offering a small vial. "It will help restore her energy."

As Evanthe extended the vial to Yorian, Arlan intervened, taking it from Evanthe’s grasp. "I’ll handle it."

Seating himself at the edge of the bed, Arlan studied Oriana’s pallid face, glistening with sweat. "Drink this," he murmured softly, bringing the vial to her lips.

Oriana remained unresponsive, her mouth firmly shut as if she hadn’t heard him.

"If you refuse to drink, you’ll prolong your recovery," Yorian remarked.

At his words, Oriana parted her lips, allowing Arlan to administer the potion.

Drayce arrived at the manor promptly upon receiving his mother’s message. Upon entering the chamber, he observed the scene unfolding before him, silently joining the others as a mere spectator.

Miraculously, after consuming the potion, Oriana’s headache subsided, and her weariness diminished.

"Feeling any better?" Arlan inquired, but she offered no reply.

After a brief moment, Oriana’s eyes fluttered open, deliberately avoiding Arlan as she surveyed the room. Her attention settled on two unfamiliar figures standing beside Yorian.

Following her gaze, Yorian began, "Oriana, allow me to introduce you to these two ladies." He turned to Evanthe first, saying, "This is Evanthe, King Drayce’s mother and the former Queen of the Witch clan."

Oriana blinked, a sense of disbelief clouding her thoughts as she examined young and beautiful woman clad in simple white dress- Evanthe. How could this woman, supposedly a millennia-old former queen and Drayce’s mother, appear so youthful? Shouldn’t age reflect wisdom, making her look older, perhaps even like a motherly figure rather than looking so young. Who would believe she lived for multiple centuries or had son as grown up like Drayce.