As Arlan started to regain his consciousness, coming out of that deep slumber of sleep while his body had recovered its vitality. His brows were furrowed as in his mind he was repeating one name.
Oriana. Oriana.
His eyes slowly opened, and he found himself beneath an ornate ceiling. Anxiousness coursed through him, his heart pounding in his chest. With the swiftness of lightning, he sprang out of bed, his singular focus on rescuing Oriana. But...
In the next instant, he noticed a woman standing by the window in his room. Her hazel eyes conveyed a myriad of emotions as they fixed on him.
The step he had taken to leave abruptly halted, and he stood frozen in place, his gaze seemingly locked onto her face, as if trying to confirm that she was not a mirage but indeed standing there in the flesh.