The Devil's Betrothed

Arlan returned to the Wimark Estate with his knight in time for the evening meal.

After dining with his sister's family, he decided to retire to his room and rest. It had been a long day, and tomorrow would probably be the same.

Just as he was about to go to bed, his gaze landed on the small knife placed on the bedside table. He walked towards it and picked it up.

At first glance, it appeared to be an ordinary knife. It had a narrow blade with a single sharp edge—the kind favored by forest hunters, not herb collectors—but its handle was not made of pale wood but rather ivory. There were traces of a carving at the bottom, but perhaps due to the passage of time, the mark had long faded.

'This is something that a commoner should not have. Only nobles can afford this kind of knife.'

Though it was unadorned, any person with a keen eye could tell this knife ought to be a relic, if not a treasure.

'Is Oriana a daughter of a noble family? That shouldn't be. What kind of young lady behaves like a rogue and struggles to earn copper coins? Unless…her household had fallen into ruin.'

Arlan made a mental note to ask his brother-in-law for a list of fallen noble families in his territory.

'Another possibility is that found it by luck and kept it with her.'

Putting the knife inside a drawer, he idly walked towards the wooden coat hanger placed in the corner. Hanging on it was the headwrap Oriana lost during their first meeting in the forest.

A faint scent remained on the fabric, a mix of herbs along with a delicate fragrance Arlan realized was her own scent. After hanging out with her for an entire day, he had become long used to that scent—it was neither too sweet nor strong, more like a vanilla-honey blend, with hints of jasmine and citrus. It was bright and refreshing, just like her personality.

'She reminds me of honeysuckles in summer.'

His fingers caressed that dark cloth, his expression at a loss.

'Strange. Why does her scent continue to linger in my thoughts? But…I do not dislike it.' He shook his head, attempting to disperse the image of her body pinned against the alley wall. 'Honeysuckles, huh.'

He pulled his hand back from the dark cloth and went to lay on the bed. A smirk crept on his face as he recalled her colorful expression whenever he teased her.

'Shortie, what have you done to me? Why do you intrigue me so?'

That was his last thought before closing his eyes.

—---

Meanwhile, that intriguing woman was running short of curses to say as she hurried back to the village.

"...That good-for-nothing noble brat! You hired me as a guide, had me waste a day's worth of saliva explaining the market to you, then you laugh, saying you have no coins and will pay me tomorrow? What a villain! Did your nanny feed you milk with lead? Maybe she dropped you in the head when you were a newborn—"

Her village was more than an hour's walk away from Jerusha City. Oriana was even forced to spend a few coppers for an oil lantern, otherwise she would be blindly making her way back in the dark.

Amidst her anger, she could not help but be worried for her grandfather.

"I wonder if Grandpa had a meal? He hates to eat by himself. He must still be waiting for me to return."

At the sight of the lit torches outside the village fence, Oriana picked up her pace. When she reached home, she indeed found her grandfather waiting for her outside their wooden cabin. He was sitting on a stump of wood by the doorway.

She hurried towards him. "Grandpa, I am back! What are you doing outside? The cold is bad for your joints."

The old man looked at his young granddaughter with a warm smile. "Waiting for my sweet Ori, of course. I am glad you returned safely."

His genuine concern melted all the negative thoughts in Oriana's mind.

"Did you wait long?" She helped him enter the cabin and had him sit on one of the two stools inside. "Apologies, I did not notice how late it was. I was caught up with important work, Grandpa."

She pulled out all the copper and silver coins she earned and laid them on the table. Under the light of the lantern, they were particularly eye-catching, especially the seven pieces of silver.

"Today was a good day, Grandpa. We earned a lot. This should last us for two weeks."

A single piece of silver was enough to feed a family of three for a week. Together with other expenses, the amount Oriana earned should have been enough for her and her grandfather to live well for at least a month.

However, her grandfather was old and ailing. He might appear healthy on the outside, but his body was racked with many problems.

The wild herbs Oriana pick could sometimes deal with the minor ailments, but it was not sustainable—finding good herbs takes great time and effort. After all, plants needed time to grow, and rare herbs had short life cycles. Not to mention, most of her grandfather's ailments also required complicated concoctions that had to be bought in town.

"You did well, Ori," he praised her, "but you have to look out for yourself as well. You should not stay out for so long. It is best you return home before it's dark."

She held the old man's hand in hers. "I am sorry, Grandpa, for worrying you. But you forget, you raised me well! I might not be as skilled as you, but I have picked up a couple good skills on my own. I am always careful.

"Trust me, Grandpa. I have been keeping myself safe till now and I promise to continue to do so. No matter what happens, I will make sure I will return to your side safe and sound!"

"It's all my fault," the old man mumbled.

"No, Grandpa…"

The old man's eyes turned moist. "My poor granddaughter. It's my fault for being sick and a burden to you. If only I were not so useless, you wouldn't have to struggle like this."

Seeing the sorrow in his eyes, Oriana turned unhappy.

"What are you saying? Who is useless? You? If you are useless, could you have single-handedly raised a person as awesome as me? There is no struggle, Grandpa. We are not begging in the streets, we can eat three times a day, we have clothes on our back and roof over our heads. We can also afford your medicine. Aren't we living well?"

"Do you not resent me? A young woman like you shouldn't—"

"I am fine with everything we have, and I am content. Believe me."

The old man caressed her head. "You have always been a good child. I am fortunate to have you."

"Seems like I came at the wrong moment?" A female voice came from the doorway. "I hope I am not disturbing you, the pair of grandfather and grandson?"

A buxom woman entered their cabin with a large basket in hand. She had a kind though wrinkly smile on her face as she looked at the two. She appeared middle-aged, though she was only in her thirties. Like many villagers, the harsh environment made her look older than she actually was.

Oriana smiled at their neighbor. "Aunt Gwen, what brings you here?"

"I brought food for your grandpa, Orian." The woman put the basket on the table in front of them. "I thought you won't be returning tonight as well."

"Thank you for caring for Grandpa, Aunt Gwen."

"Don't mention it. You are like my son as well," the woman said. "Anyway, I should make myself scarce. You two enjoy your meal."

"I will after a while," Oriana said and looked at her grandfather. "Eat first, Grandpa."

"Let us eat together," said the old man.

"You still have to drink your medicine after eating. You cannot be late," she insisted, but the old man chose to divide the bread into half. Oriana could only sigh as she took out the cured meat in their cupboard, along with several ripe fruits.

After chatting for a while, the woman left to go back to her home. However, she did not return empty-handed. Oriana gave her several fruits as gratitude.