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2.54% The Devil's Betrothed / Chapter 20: Tavern

Chương 20: Tavern

A foul-tempered Oriana was waiting for Arlan outside the tavern.

It's been more than half an hour since she arrived at their promised meeting place.

Earlier, she found herself a table on a nice corner inside, intending to snack while waiting for the noble brat to arrive, but she had to witness useless drunkards talking trash and being rude to the female servers.

The strong stench of alcohol and their rowdy laughter were suffocating. One drunkard even invited her, 'the poor little boy in the corner' to join their table.

Not to mention running through the dangerous forest to reach the city as fast as she could, she had also been disgusted twice by the scenes inside the tavern. No wonder Oriana was in an extremely foul mood.

Adding insult to injury, that brat was still nowhere to be seen!

'That brat didn't forget, did he?'

She decided to wait outside, unless she ended up in a brawl.

At that moment, Arlan had reached the tavern, but since he was riding a horse, he headed for the stables on the side and simply passed by the entrance. From a distance, he saw Oriana standing outside, idly kicking rocks.

'That knife is really important to her."

Just as Arlan and Imbert dismounted, a man on horseback found them.

"Greetings, Your Highness. Greetings, Commander."

If Luke and Rina were here, they would have recognized the newcomer— he was the same suspicious man who was asking about Orian.

"What did you find, Kerry?" Imbert asked the knight disguised as a mercenary.

"Orian the Herbalist—he is a fifteen-year-old commoner who lives in a nameless village at the eastern outskirts of the forest near the town of Gerona. He mainly sells herbs for a living, but he also treats the illnesses of his fellow villagers, though they compensate him with basic goods. He is an orphan living with his relatives since he was a kid," the knight informed them. "and that relative's daughter is betrothed to him."

Arlan raised an eyebrow at the result of the knight's initial investigation.

'Betrothed? She even managed to fool my knight. Does that mean she has been disguised as a man for so long, perhaps only her family knew her real gender?' A smirk appeared on his lips widened. 'Why, things are turning out to be so interesting all of a sudden.'

"...that is basically the lad's background. Any more instructions, Your Highness?" the knight asked. "Shall I trace his whereabouts for the past months as well? From my understanding, they migrated from another town—"

"You don't have to look into it anymore," Arlan replied. "You did well, Kerry. You may go."

After dismissing the other knight, Imbert stepped into the shadows, effortlessly blending into the crowd. "I will be around, Your Highness."

Arlan simply walked ahead as he knew he didn't need to tell his knight what to do. After being his guardian knight for so long, Imbert knew his role was to stay in the background unless ordered otherwise.

Meanwhile, Oriana was close to the end of her patience.

"Where is that noble brat? He said to meet here at the same time! These arrogant nobles have no value for other's time—"

She started to pace here and there, still kicking at random pebbles on the ground.

"Once I get my knife from him, I swear I am not gonna see that swine ever again!"

She stopped and stomped her feet. "That brat, once I see him—"

"What do you plan on doing, hmm?"

A person was standing behind her, whispering into her ear, without her sensing his presence. Startled, she jumped and almost elbowed the other person, but at the nick of time, she recognized his voice.

It's that good-for-nothing arrogant noble, that brat she wished she could stab for a third time, Arlan!

However, as Oriana turned around to face the tall, handsome man, a smile like blooming flowers graced her face, not a trace of her real thoughts visible.

"Young Master, your honorable self came right on time!"

Arlan found her switch so funny, it took effort to keep his mouth from twitching., "I heard you calling me a brat."

"Who? You? You misunderstand, Young Master, ah, that, there is someone who just annoyed me so I was cursing him. Apologies for letting your esteemed self hear such crass words unworthy of your reputation."

"Who is this unfortunate brat and what did he do to get cursed by you?" he asked with interest.

'Who else? It's you, you annoying lord of a noble.' Despite those thoughts, that bright smile on her face did not change. "Just some nobody. We don't have to talk about him. I was waiting for you and you are here just in time. Then, can Young Master give me back my—"

"Alright then. Let's go inside," Arlan interrupted her and took a step forward.

"Wait, Young Master. Can you first return my—"

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Didn't we agree on drinking?"

"Did we?" she asked and looked towards the tavern. "It is crowded tonight with lowly commoners. It might not be suitable for an esteemed noble like Young Master to be surrounded by those noisy drunkards."

"Noisy? They sound like they're having fun. I think the lively atmosphere is perfect," Arlan countered, "and looking at you, I am sure you are more comfortable surrounded by your fellow commoners. Don't worry. I am here to experience the small joys of a commoner. You look like you love to drink, and I happen to love drinking as well."

'Huh? Do I look like a drunkard? Is this guy blind or what?'

"Don't worry, don't worry." Arlan even patted her shoulder in a brotherly way. "I will pay for everything you drink and eat. This young master is not stingy."

He turned to go inside the tavern.

"You have coins for booze, but not to pay me for yesterday?" Oriana gritted her teeth. 'Men sure are wasteful, degenerated creatures.'

Seeing her not moving, Arlan looked over his shoulder once more. "Aren't you going to lead the way for me?"

"Ah, yes." She went ahead and led the way for this trash of a noble who she wanted to get rid of as soon as possible. 'It's fine. This is just once. I can bear with it for a while.'


Chương 21: Do You Want To Die?

Oriana led his way inside that rowdy tavern. She looked around to search for an empty table, but as it was nighttime and near the marketplace, the entire place was packed to the brim. Oriana felt this was the perfect excuse to get her knife without drinking a drop of alcohol.

"Unfortunately, there is no empty table, and I believe the Young Master would not want to share tables—"

"I see one there." Arlan pointed towards their left.

Oriana turned to the direction of his finger. 'Huh? Weren't there two drunk pigs playing cards there not even a minute ago? Where did they go? Did they leave? What bad timing!'

"Amazing! You have such sharp eyesight, Young Master! Please come with me." Orian led his way towards the table.

What Oriana did not realize was it wasn't a matter of bad timing—a certain someone had moved those two drunk men occupying that table. Imbert then faded back into the background, ready to solve anything that could trouble his liege. There was no need to be told what to do.

On the way to the table which was on the other side of that messy tavern, Oriana was silently praying that another customer would come in and take that table.

She pretended to be delayed by the passing servers, giving way to the other customers, circling the other tables, in order to buy as much time as she could.

'Spirit be damned! That table is empty! Still empty! Won't anyone occupy it before us?!'

The chaos of the tavern—the boisterous sounds of swearing and laughter, the people yelling their orders over each other, the mixed smell of food, sweat, alcohol and smoke—was rubbing on her nerves.

On the other hand, Arlan had his attention solely on the black-clothed young woman in front of him. Though she was in that loose-fitting getup and appeared to be a man, he noticed the way those drunk men were looking at her when she was passing by their tables. However, Arlan's presence was deterring those men from making any movement—after all, it was obvious Arlan was a nobleman and that Oriana was with him. No sane commoner dared offend a noble, especially not in the open.

As they reached the table, Oriana pulled a chair for Arlan, smiling with what she believed was a humble, subservient smile. "Please have a seat, Young Master."

He sat in the chair and instructed, "Sit down as well."

Oriana pulled the chair for herself, sighing in defeat in her heart. It appeared like she really could not escape drinking tonight. She looked up and found Arlan simply sitting with a hand under his chin, as if waiting for her to do everything.

'This brat, does he take me for his servant?'

"Is something the matter?" he asked, seeing her eyes slightly narrow in his direction.

"Ah, yes, I mean, I want to know what Young Master would like to have."

"I am new to Jerusha. Since you are a local, you can decide what is good and order for us."

'I have never been to this tavern before. Why does this brat think I am used to drinking? At most, I had a sip tasting the medicinal wine for my Grandpa's aching joints.'

Fortunately, Oriana was observant—when she was sitting by the corner earlier, she had seen enough to know what to do. She called for a server, yelling as loud as she could in that noisy place.

A young man approached and looked at Arlan, the noble-looking person who would obviously pay the bill. "What would you like to have, Young Master?"

Arlan signaled towards Oriana. "Ask him."

"A pitcher of Black Rye and two mugs, half a portion of roasted duck—"

The server eyed this delicate-looking boy covered from head to toe in black. "Aren't you too young to drink, boy?"

Oriana felt glad hearing it. "I am indeed—"

Arlan interrupted them, "I never heard taverns impose drinking limits on age."

The server started, "There is no such—"

"Liquor can be drunk even by children to stay warm during winter."

"That is indeed so, Young Master. This servant has been nosy," the server said and was ready to take their order. "Can you repeat your order, boy?"

Oriana had no other option but to continue, "A pitcher of Black Rye, half a roasted duck, two loaves of wastel bread and the local cottage cheese, a portion of spiced lamb…"

After Oriana finished repeating the most expensive orders she overheard from the other customers, the server left. Oriana finally got the chance to get to the point. "Young Master, my knife, can you return it to me?"

"Knife?" Arlan acted ignorant.

"Yes, the knife you took from me to investigate your attacker,"

"Oh, your knife… I didn't bring it."

Thud!

She slammed her hands on the table and stood up. "Didn't bring it? You—"

The few sitting next to them looked at her, and only then did she realize she had just raised her voice at the noble and sat back in her chair. "I-I…mean, Young Master, you forgot my knife…It is very important to me and—"

"The investigation is ongoing. I heard the city guards got important clues about that culprit and soon will catch him, so they had to keep that knife for a while longer."

Oriana's heart skipped a beat. "C-Clues, what clues?"

"Not sure, but I am sure I will see him in front of me any day now and I will make sure to punish him."

"P-Punish?"

"I wonder how I should punish him. Feeding him to wolves, skinning him alive, or if I am feeling merciful, maybe cutting the hand that stabbed me…"

Oriana gulped in fright, and just then, the server brought them their order. "Enjoy the drinks, dear customers."

Nervous about her identity being exposed, Oriana found her throat dry and she subconsciously picked the mug of cold beer and emptied it as fast as she could. Her face twisted at the bitterness of the beer, but she took the pitcher and refilled her mug once.

'What was I thinking back then? I shouldn't have agreed to give him my knife. Now, this brat not only didn't bring my knife, he also wants to punish me with a death penalty. Such brutal punishment for a shallow injury? Had I known, I would have stabbed this noble assehole a hundred times more!'

"Orian, are you alright?" Arlan asked after tasting their drink.

Black Rye Beer tastes grainy and bitter, a commoner's drink of poor quality, but Arlan found the drink to be quite strong. 'Don't tell me Shortie is already drunk with merely two mugs of beer? That's almost as bad as Dray's knight, Slayer, that lightweight.'

Her eyes turned watery and Oriana felt like her throat was burning but she didn't mind and glared at him.

'Alright my ass. How can I be alright when you are with me, you cruel beast who does not keep his words?!'

Arlan found himself enjoying the sight of anger within those hazel eyes. It seemed her alcohol tolerance was stronger than expected.

"Do you want to say something, Orian?"

Her hand gripped the handle of the pitcher and found it empty. She glared at the server waiting at the table next to them and called out, "Hey, you, why are you not filling up our pitcher yet? Do you want to die?"

As she said those, Oriana glanced at Arlan, as if her last words were meant for the brat sitting in front of her.


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