The Devil's Betrothed novel Chapter 537

Chapter 537: Unsettling Feelings

The study fell into a heavy silence once the enraged Dragon stormed out, leaving a palpable tension in his wake. Yorian cleared his throat awkwardly, his gaze shifting to Oriana, whose shocked expression remained fixed on the door. Clearly, Arlan’s outburst had rattled her deeply.

"He’s worried about you, Oriana," Yorian attempted to console her.

"He’s not wrong," Sierra chimed in. "We only answered your questions because it felt unjust to leave you in the dark, especially considering how much you already know about yourself. But I assure you, we don’t support the idea of you venturing into the Demon realm in search of that witch’s soul."

"He’ll calm down. Just give him some time," Evanthe added. "Arguments happen when people care deeply for each other."

Oriana nodded silently, absorbing their words.

"We’ll leave you to it then," Yorian stood up. "You may want to talk to him."

Oriana nodded again. "Thank you for coming," she murmured as the three figures vanished from the study.

Ana arrived shortly after. "Your Highness, you haven’t eaten anything since noon. I’ve prepared a late meal for you."

"I’m not hungry, Ana," Oriana replied, rising from her chair and heading out of the study.

"But Your Highness..."

"I just want to rest for a while," Oriana interrupted, making her way to her chamber and sinking into the bed.

Ana hesitated, concern etched on her features, but she respected Oriana’s wishes and withdrew quietly.

Lying in bed, Oriana closed her eyes, but her mind buzzed with thoughts of Arlan. ’He was so furious, his eyes...his other side was angry as well. But I am the owner of that Dragon soul, right? It’s fine if Arlan gets angry at me as my husband, but how dare that Dragon get angry at me? That Dragon... I should be the one to get angry at him for not choosing me as his mate,’ she gritted her teeth. ’If he appears in front of me, I will disown him and no longer be his owner. He can get the hell out of my life and can live with his mate.’

An hour passed by but she continued to toss and turn in bed, lost in her tumultuous thoughts, when suddenly there was a knock on the door. "Your Highness, Sir Ahren wishes to meet you."

"Did something happen?" Oriana hurriedly got out of bed. "Send him in."

Rafal entered the room and bowed respectfully. "Your Highness, His Highness has asked me to give you something."

Oriana’s expression brightened. "What is it?"

Rafal produced a small, familiar knife and handed it to her. Oriana looked at it, puzzled, but accepted the blade.

"Any orders for me, Your Highness?" Rafal inquired.

Dazed, she shook her head, and Rafal bowed once more. "I will take my leave then."

As Rafal departed, Oriana continued to examine the knife in her hand, the very same one that belonged to her.

’He never returned this knife to me until now, but why all of a sudden?’ Unsettling feelings gripped her heart, her hand tightening around the hilt. ’What is he trying to imply? This knife helps me to stave off nightmares. Does he mean that he won’t be coming to me tonight, and I shall have to depend on this knife?’

The uncertainty weighed heavily on Oriana as she stared at the blade, her mind swirling with unanswered questions.

Ana knocked on the door once more before entering. "Your Highness, shall I arrange your meal? It’s already past mealtime."

"Arrange for me to visit Thistle Palace," Oriana ordered without hesitation.

"Yes, Your Highness," Ana replied, her expression unreadable. She left promptly, understanding the urgency in Oriana’s tone.

Oriana quickly changed into the regal attire befitting the Crown Princess. Outside, the carriage awaited her, with Rafal mounted on his horse nearby, ready to escort her to Thistle Palace.

In the carriage of the Crown Princess, Oriana arrived at Thistle Palace. Stepping down, she was greeted by a sea of bows from the palace staff.

Roman hurried forward, bowing deeply. "Welcome, Your Highness. I will inform His Highness—"

"No need," she interrupted, her voice cutting through the air like ice. "Where is he?"

"In his chamber," Roman replied, a hint of skepticism in his tone. "But His Highness has ordered for no one to disturb him."

Oriana simply nodded, her resolve unwavering, and strode ahead towards the staircase. Roman watched her go, swallowing the words he had intended to say.

As Oriana ascended to the second floor, Imbert, a knight stationed nearby, bowed respectfully and then discreetly withdrew. Oriana watched him leaving, recognizing the unspoken understanding in his demeanor. He knew better than to interfere or alert Arlan of her presence.

Approaching Arlan’s closed chamber door, Oriana paused, her mind swirling with uncertainty. What could he be doing in there, alone and enraged?

She pushed the door open slowly, the darkness of the chamber enveloping her. ’Dark. Is he asleep already?’ she mused, a sense of wariness creeping over her. ’More than an hour passed by, is he still holding on to his angry self?’

Oriana stepped inside cautiously, her eyes straining to pierce through the shadows in search of him.

"You should leave," she heard him, his voice cold yet restrained, a warning laced within his words.

Refusing to yield, Oriana remained rooted to her spot, her gaze fixed on the direction of the lounge area where his voice emanated from. "I do not plan to leave until we finish talking."

There was a tense silence from his end, and Oriana could sense him sitting in the darkest corner of the room.