The Devil's Betrothed

'What an amusing young lady,' Arlan could not help but smile as he watched her hollering like a kid throwing a tantrum.

As for her earlier words, Arlan overlooked the slight. He had been the target of countless death threats over the years and knew very well Oriana did not really mean it.

As the server placed a new pitcher on their table, Arlan commented, "Hey, I know I am footing the bill, but you should not drink too fast. I am yet to finish my second mug."

"It's because you drink too slow."

"You drink too fast."

Oriana showed off, finishing another mug with relish, her face not even showing a hint of redness. "Coz the beer here is as stale as water!"

Of course, that was not the truth. Since she could not stab this brat a hundred times, then the next best thing she could do to vent out her grievance was to empty his pockets of a hundred coins!

When his parents find out he spent so much overnight drinking outside, even if they were filthy rich, they would be disappointed with their son's prodigal behavior, right? This annoying young master would probably be punished and his allowance withheld, maybe even be grounded in his household.

Hmph! She would make him regret making her wait! She would make him regret forgetting her knife!

"Didn't Young Master say I look like I drink a lot? Well, well, well, you guessed right!" She emptied her mug again and screamed at the busy server. "What the hell are you doing there, boy? Bring more beer!"

Arlan could not tell which was more impressive—the temper of this woman or her alcohol tolerance. He could probably watch her drink all night and he would not be bored.

"Coming, mister! Please wait!" the server shouted back.

Business was business, and of all the customers for the night, the needs of that table was top priority; afterall, it was rare for a nobleman to visit a commoner's tavern. The server left the table occupied by eight people—there were four drunk men who were playing cards, sitting with their hired prostitutes.

One of them glanced at Oriana and commented, "That pretty boy looks prettier than these sluts here."

The others agreed to it as they laughed. Unbeknownst to them, that pretty boy's companion was glaring in their direction, displeasure evident in his ocean blue eyes.

Arlan's sharp hearing caught their exchange even amidst the noise within the tavern.

"So the rumors are true. Nobles do love playing with pretty boys more than girls these days."

"If the boys are as pretty as that one, who would look at these village girl sluts?"

"What do you say? Shall we ask that boy for his services as well?"

"If nobles can, then why can't we? Since his looks are top notch, that pretty boy must be expensive, right? Boss, I say, why don't we split and share the cost of a single night?"

"Let me ask that boy," one of the drunk men stood and stumbled towards Oriana and Arlan's table.

Their group was completely wasted. In their minds, the pretty boy ought to be the nobleman's secret plaything. If that boy belonged to him, then why would they choose a tavern with an inn to play? They could do their naughty things at the nobleman's mansion. Since that was not the case, then their relationship was neither exclusive nor out in the open, and these men could also hire the pretty boy's services.

Such mindless lechers simply disregarded Arlan's glare, not knowing what could happen to them.

The man reached their table and a grimy smile spread on his face. "Hey you, pretty boy, after playing with this young master, how about you come with us? Just name the price and we will make sure you'll be satisfied!"

The way he looked at Oriana made Arlan frown in disgust.

"Scram if you want to keep your life," Arlan growled as he slammed his mug on the table.

How dared they overstep their boundary? Their dirty conversation was already hitting his bottomline, yet they even had the guts to approach? Arlan hated others touching his possessions. He could not even tolerate them eyeing his belongings—

His belongings? Was she already one of them?

Arlan was about to act when he heard Oriana also slam her mug on the table. "Yes, as Young Master said, scram! Scram, you swine! You can keep your thing back in your pants and scram. Bloody pig—"

She was totally out of control and Arlan was shocked to see her stand up and give the man a straight punch on the nose, causing the man to fall on the floor.

The crowd cheered!

What a beautiful punch!

Brawls and fights were common in taverns; in fact, it was one of the few entertainments commoners could enjoy for free. The scene tonight was especially eye-catching because one of the parties was a young lad in his mid-teens, while the other was an escort guard of a merchant with a small reputation.

Oriana might be a woman, but she was someone who grew up fending for herself, even daring to cross the dangers of the forest on her own. She was by no means weak. Not to mention, the other man was utterly intoxicated, barely even capable of walking straight.

The killing intent about to erupt within Arlan vanished, and he even had the urge to applause as well.