A Perfect Replica
Cian put the hair chain inside his coat pocket and sat on the couch beside Oriana. She undid the bandage and asked Cian about the intensity of pain he was feeling, along with a series of questions about what strenuous activities he did the past few days.0
"No swordfighting?"
"I swear. I have not held a sword since last time."
She checked his hand once more before giving it another massage with herbal oil.
"The bone is healing properly, but still, I recommend His Highness to not overwork your wrist. Avoid using a sword for time being till it's completely healed in two weeks. I will teach you how to massage your hand, so that starting tomorrow, you can do it on your own with the ointment I'll be giving you."
Aside from the prince, Cian's personal aide also took note of Oriana's instructions.
She proceeded to bandage his hand. Once she kept her things back in the case, Cian asked, "Your Master allowed you to come here?"
Oriana had the feeling that this prince knew exactly how petty her master was. "His Highness did give me permission."
Cian stared at her for a while, his thoughts unknown. Then, he gave her a polite smile.
"I thank you for your services, Physician Orian."
"It is my honor, Your Highness."
"Then, there is no need for you to come check on me. I won't burden you anymore—"
"What burden?" Oriana laughed. "We physicians exist because there are people to heal. We enjoy this, not burdened at all. It's contradictory to say this, but I hope there is no new injury next time we meet. Please take good care of yourself, Your Highness."
She left after receiving a small payment from his aide, but as to whether it was truly small, that was relative to who's asking. With a rather cheery mood, she entered the gates, enjoying the night breeze while she played with the pouch heavy with gold.
'How many coins have I earned from this trip so far? Counting in the salary as a royal servant…'
It was deep into the night by the time she returned to the guest mansion of Griven. From the outside, only a handful of rooms still had their lights lit. Most people appeared to have gone to sleep.
'Oh no! I was not paying attention to the time! HIs Highness must have already had his meal. Then, I must head to his chamber—'
She abruptly stopped as she recalled an unsavory memory. Her hand briefly touched her neck, and felt the thin layer of sweat on her skin.
'I guess I'll go wash up first. Last time I ran between two mansions, he said I stink. I shall wash off the sweat first before going to him.'
"Orian, you are finally back," Damien remarked the moment she stepped inside the foyer.
"Apologies. Were you waiting for me? Where is his Highness?"
"In his chamber. You should hurry and resume your duty."
"I will be there in a bit!" she shouted as she ran towards her room.
Oriana washed herself as fast as humanly possible.
'I don't think I smell bad even after sweating but that brat's nose seems to be as sensitive as a dog's.'
While she was binding her chest, a sullen thought creeped into her mind.
"Have you thought about revealing yourself to Prince Arlan?" she recalled Yorian ask earlier.
Revealing herself…
Out of her many secrets, her identity as a woman ought to be the easiest to deal with. So far, the Megarisians and the Thevaileses who learned her real gender accepted the truth with no problems.
She wondered if tonight was the right time to tell Arlan.
'Will he be disappointed once he learns I'm no pretty boy?'
Having many thoughts in mind, Oriana proceeded to leave the servant quarters and climb the staircase.
Outside the door of the prince's chambers, she saw Imbert standing in place, unmoving like a statue. Just as she was about to greet him, she found Neil coming out of the chamber carrying empty wine bottles on a tray. It shocked her.
'What the—is he drinking again?!'
No wonder Damien told her to hurry!
She was about to turn and leave when Neil called her "Orian!"
Oriana paused in place and stiffly moved to face her colleague, an awkward smile gracing her lips.
"Neil ha ha…"
"Good that you are here. I was about to call you anyway. Go to His Highness and take care of him."
"I…"
But she was interrupted by a voice coming from behind. "Neil, Sir Rafal is looking for you," Damien said.
"For what?"
"Not sure. Hurry up."
Even before Oriana could say a word, Neil and Damien disappeared from her sight.
'These two—' Oriana had no other option now. It happened that her unhappy gaze met with Imbert's emotionless one. Without saying anything, the knight opened the door for her and she entered with her head lowered.
More unsavory memories creeped into her mind. Somehow, she felt embarrassed in front of Imbert.
If it was Rafal guarding the door, she wouldn't have felt the same. Imbert was aware that she was a woman, but not even once did he question her nor confront her about it. Instead, he helped her hide it. He had also seen her in multiple inappropriate situations with Arlan, and though he never mentioned it, she could not help but be awkward and embarrassed in front of him.
His silence, it both made her grateful and anxious at the same time.
As Imbert closed the door behind her, her heart began to race as she took in the familiar sight. A dimly lit room, a drunk prince, the pale moonlight against his handsome side profile, casting stark shadows against his attractive features…
She exhaled through her mouth, because the air was once more thick with the heavy scent of expensive wine, and she feared that she too would be intoxicated by the ambience.
The drunk prince was leaning back in his armchair with his eyes closed, one hand holding onto an empty glass of wine. It was the same scene as last time. A perfect replica.
Oriana felt hesitant to go near him. She would be an idiot to not learn from past experiences.
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