"You are hearing things, Your Highness," she said, her tone milder. "I never got proper education. I never even drew anything beyond stick figures on the ground before this. Ink is too precious a commodity for a poor villager. This is all I can do, Your Highness."
Though her words sounded polite and soft, Arlan could feel the displeasure in them.
Arlan stood up and sat in the only proper chair inside the library. Although Oriana did not sit on the chair, she still ended up using his table to put the stacks of books she’s yet to read, and along with her notes from yesterday, made a mess out of it.
"Give me one clean sheet of paper," he ordered as he further rolled the sleeves of his shirt till his elbow, allowing Oriana to see the complete sculpt of his strong arms.
She passed him a piece of paper which he accepted and put on the table neatly after he pushed away the other items to the side.
’Is he going to draw?’ She looked at him in surprise. ’Doesn’t look like he is someone fond of art.’
She quietly placed the ink bottle on the table when Arlan put his hand forward.
’Huh?’
She didn’t understand.
"Quill."
"Ah." She immediately picked up the writing tool used by her. "Your Highness."
He wordlessly grabbed it from her hand and looked at the book which was showing the drawing of the plant that Oriana drew as an ’open mouth of a ferocious monster’.
Rosary pea, also known as crab’s eye vine.
A highly toxic plant with bright red beans that looked like ornamental beads on its pod. It was so dangerous, digesting its seeds could even kill a large cattle, much less a human.
Arlan dipped the quill feather pen into the ink, drawing on the paper after a single glance. Without looking at the book even once, the prince would only pause whenever he needed to dip the quill in ink.
Unaware of her actions, Oriana leaned forward with her folded hands on the table, mesmerized by his drawing.
Slender branches, the twining woody vine, the elongated flat seed pods that curl back when opened...
Each detail was drawn with precision, the lines elegant and fluid, and perhaps if it weren’t an image formed from pure black ink, Oriana would have thought that the rosary pea was real.
His long fingers held the quill pen effortlessly, making perfect shapes in a single stroke. His manly hand that obviously was more used to swords looked as if they had been hands of a skilled artist in the first place. Maybe if Arlan was given a brush and painting tools, perhaps his drawing skills would not pale to the paintings on the walls.
Oriana did not realize it but rather than the herb, her attention was now on the solemn-looking prince.
His expression while focused on the task at hand made her feel a little breathless. Oriana felt like it made sense—perhaps a living sculpture like the prince also had good aesthetics when it came to art.
’I take back my earlier words. He is so good at this that even if he isn’t a prince, even if he only draws for a living, he will live a good life. I can imagine noble ladies will even pay him extra so they can watch him draw. I sure can stare at him for hours.’ Her racing heart alarmed her, and her line of thinking scared her again.
She moved back a little from leaning on the table. She gulped as her throat suddenly felt dry.
Arlan finished the drawing of the rosary pea and looked at her with a smug grin. "This is how you should draw, Shortie."
Oriana felt his drawing was more realistic than what was in the book. She didn’t want to admit it, but compared to his, her drawing looked like a child’s scribble.
"Amazing, Your Highness!" she praised, albeit begrudgingly. She held that paper after the ink dried. "Can I add this to my notes? I will have one less drawing to make."
He gave into her pleading gaze and nodded but...
"Make sure to redraw the others. If I am not satisfied, I will make you draw them again and again."
Her eyes widened. "I...I am not an artist—"
"Instead of staring at me, if you had paid attention to how I draw, you might have learned a little."
"Huh? W-When did I?"
"You dare pretend ignorance?"
Oriana pouted, but she really could not deny it. She thought his entire attention was on drawing the herb—who would have guessed he caught her ogling at him?
"Pervert." She heard him say.
"I am not a pervert, Your Highness. I was just—"
"If you deny being a pervert, I will add dishonesty to your list of offenses."
"I-I...did nothing of that sort, really."
"Shall I remind you that I am yet to punish you for trying to get the royal document from my hand? Also, carelessly wandering in the mansion of Count Milton, thereby potentially causing misunderstandings between families and creating unnecessary trouble for your master?"
Her pouting face was ridden with guilt. She had to admit—she indeed caused a lot of trouble, considering today was just her third day since entering the royal palace. She got on her knees.
"I will accept my punishment, Your Highness."
He stared at her lowered head for a while as the smirk on his face widened. "I will let you know tonight."
’Tonight?’ she panicked inwardly. ’What can it be?’
Arlan enjoyed that brief flash of panic on her face and stood up to leave.
Once the door of the library closed behind him, her hands that were resting on her thighs moved to cover her pounding chest. She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.
"Why didn’t he say more?" she muttered. "What does he mean by ’tonight’? Is that pervert planning something indecent?"
Arlan, who was walking down the hallway, felt like laughing at what he heard and mumbled in response, "Maybe."