Heiress

Chapter 5- She's an angel

Oriana narrowed her eyes to the corridor. How many doors had she passed by then? Surely, her instincts told her to halt her stumbles. That door was it. Her room. However, a presence loomed behind her the whole way there.

"Quit following me!" Oriana demanded, an accusatory finger pointed at Zora.

The man leaned closer to her.

"That's my room, idiot." he said before he flicked her forehead and caused Oriana to step backwards.

"What was that for?"

"You're drunk!" Zora boasted. "Get your shit together."

"I'm not drunk..." her voice lowered. Her eyes looked away from Zora's. "Just a little tipsy."

"Like I'm supposed to believe that."

"That's the point of drinking games!"

"Let's just put you to bed."

Zora swinged open the door to his room and Oriana followed him inside. While Zora turned on the oil lamp and unclasped his mask, Oriana made a beeline to the bed and plopped on the mattress, stomach and chest first.

"Seriously? At least take the shoes off."

Nothing. Oriana ignored him and closed her eyes. Zora grunted something under his breath before he made his way to the woman in his bed. Oriana's boots were taken off and her robe slipped over her head. Before she knew it, she was under the covers. Still conscious of her surroundings, even though her lids were closed, she could tell when Zora turned off the lamp. The movements on the mattress signaled an incoming Zora. Sure enough, he was already laying next to her.

Her lids were heavy, but she still managed to take a glimpse at the figure next to her. The curtains blocked any of the moon light to illuminate the inside, but she could make up the traces of his bare chest as it lifted and lowered with the pace of his breathing. As her eyes got used to the darkness, Zora gained a more nitid body.

For some reason, Oriana caught herself thinking of her mother. That was unusual, she normally wouldn't reminisce about her. In fact, she barely had any memories of her. Oriana was barely six when her mother passed away with sickness. Many were the times Oriana wished her father was the one to die instead. Even if she didn't remember much, there was one thing she was sure about. Her mother would never put any of her daughters through the abuse their father did.

When she died, Oriana heard the cleaners whisper about Finesse's insomnia. It was also around the time her sister became weaker and more frail. About ten years later, Oriana escaped the dark halls of the Clover Castle and deemed her sister to a life in solitude with the helpers of the Castle and their father. The King lived in a wing so far from them, it was like they didn't live under the same roof. The first years after her escape, Oriana carried that blame. Who knew what kind of abuse Finesse was suffering under their father's clutches. However, last year, Oriana learned that her sister was, in a way, better off. Her worries were foolish, Finesse was nothing like Oriana, after all. Her older sister was a proper royal, with manners and calm nerves. A gentle smile on her face and a kind heart. The sickness turned her into a frail woman more than a delicate one, but even so, she was still wished by many Royal families. What Oriana understood of that situation was that she was promised to Finral's brother, whatever his name was. Despite that, Finral had been paying the princess casual and often visits. Two brothers in a competition for her sister. Oriana would like for Finesse and Finral to be together. Or, at least, understand more of their relationship by talking to her sister again. However, for that matter, Oriana would have to travel to the Clover Castle and that was absolutely out of the question.