Witch's Daughter And The Devil's Son

As Cian conversed with a few guests amidst the melodic strains of music and the graceful twirls of dancing couples, Prince Adrien, the second prince of Othinia, approached him. With a courteous exchange of greetings, the prince inquired, "Prince Cian, I trust you are relishing the festivities."

"Indeed, Prince Adrien," Cian affirmed, casting a glance toward Ayira, who offered a respectful bow. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Prince Cian," she added softly.

Returning the nod, Cian shifted his focus to the second prince, who remarked, "I notice you're without a dance partner this evening, Prince Cian."

"Tonight, I've chosen to engage in conversations with fellow royals rather than indulge in entertainment," Cian replied with a genial smile.

"A commendable choice, Prince Cian," Prince Adrien concurred. "It's not often we have the opportunity to mingle with royalty from across the continent in one gathering."

Cian agreed with a nod.

The second prince turned to his sister, suggesting, "Ayira, shall we be gracious hosts and invite Prince Cian to partake in the entertaining himself?"

Ayira's gaze wandered sneakily amidst the crowd before she turned back to her brother and queried for the sake of replying him, "What do you have in mind, brother?"

With a playful chuckle, Adrien glanced at Cian and proposed, "Prince Cian, perhaps you could invite my sister for a dance."

"Brother, Prince Cian likely has more pressing matters to attend to with the guests…" Ayira began, her words trailing off.

"Princess Ayira, may I have the pleasure of this dance?" Cian interjected smoothly, extending his hand towards her.

At the Prince's prompting, Ayira acquiesced, taking his hand as they made their way to the dance floor.

Initially, Cian hadn't planned on dancing with her, but the second Prince's suggestion presented an opportunity he couldn't pass up. Other than just the memories of sparring, negotiations, and disagreements with her, dancing with her would become yet another indelible memory for him before he depart Othinia and might never meet her again.

"You appear to have been in search of someone," Cian remarked as they reached the dance floor, turning to face her.

Returning his gaze, Ayira replied with a hint of amusement, "Prince Cian, your powers of observation are quite astute."

Cian drew nearer, positioning himself a step ahead, his hand settling at the small of her back while the other gently clasped hers. The callouses on her palms spoke of rigorous sword training, a testament to her dedication.

Studying her exquisite features, Cian explained, "It's a habit of mine. As a Prince, I shall be alert with the sneaky people around."

His words were directed towards her and she didn't fail to understand it.

She offered him a sarcastic smile. "That is a good habit, but can be annoying to others whose sneaky actions have nothing to do with you."

With a soft chuckle, Cian countered, "Rather than finding it irksome, shouldn't Princess Ayira be grateful for the reprieve from her brother's scrutiny? Now you're free to resume whatever covert activities were occupying your attention."

Her gaze, which had been scanning the room, returned to meet his. In such close proximity, she felt as though his calm gaze sought to penetrate her very soul. Briefly unsettled, she couldn't help but feel wary, realizing that this man possessed an uncanny ability to discern her intentions.

Scary!

Ayira recognized the need to maintain a cautious distance from Prince Cian, aware of the potential risks if she revealed too much to him. With a subtle maneuver, she turned her face away, subtly adjusting her positioning to create a slight physical space while still maintaining the rhythm of the dance.

A faint smirk played at the corner of Cian's lips as the music drew to a close. Guiding Ayira back to her brother, who was engrossed in conversation, Cian returned her to his care with a courteous nod.

"Prince Cian, allow me to introduce you to my friend," the second Prince said, gesturing to the handsome man beside him. "Edward, meet Prince Cian of Abetha."

Edward responded with a knowing air. "The Crown Prince of Abetha. A figure of renown," he remarked, extending a welcoming bow to Cian.

"Prince Cian, this is Edward, the eldest son of Marquise Corbyn," the second Prince continued with the introductions.

Cian acknowledged Edward with a nod of greeting.

Edward looked at Ayira and greeted her as well to which she offered a nod with a light smile on her lips.

As Cian's gaze drifted over Ayira, he sensed a certain familiarity between her and Edward. There was a subtle shift in her demeanor, a fleeting glance that spoke volumes, reminding him of her earlier words:

'I already have someone I plan to marry.'

Cian's intuition rang true, confirming his suspicions about Edward. As the scion of the wealthiest and most influential family, Edward wielded significant power in the kingdom, with his father holding a close relationship with the King of Othinia.

A capable young man native to Othinia, he was poised to inherit his father's mantle, along with the considerable authority it entailed—a prospect that seemingly met all of Ayira's criteria.

Despite Ayira's usual caution, her eyes betrayed her thoughts in Edward's presence, a telltale sign of her fondness—an occurrence rare for a woman as guarded as her. In contrast, Edward remained composed, revealing nothing of his own sentiments.

"Princess Ayira, if you're not weary from our previous dance, may I have the pleasure of another with you?" Edward extended the invitation.

Unlike her response to Cian, Ayira accepted Edward's offer eagerly, taking his hand as they departed for the dance floor. Observing them depart, Cian's earlier deductions solidified.

"Edward is a trusted friend of mine, akin to another of Ayira's brothers," the second Prince remarked. "She defers to him more often than to me, as he is also her mentor."

"Mentor?" Cian inquired.

"She's trained in swordsmanship by him, hence the title of 'mentor,'" Adrien clarified. "Edward is among our most skilled swordsmen, well-versed in the ancient Othinian techniques."

'So she learned her skills from him.'

Acknowledging this inwardly, Cian watched as they danced, the second Prince offering him a glass of wine. Accepting it, his gaze flitting back to the couple intermittently, he found them in perfect synchrony. Unbeknownst to him, he consumed the wine in a single gulp, feeling a burning sensation not in his throat, but in his heart.

"Prince Cian, that wine is rather potent. Take care to savor it slowly," Adrien cautioned, offering him another glass.

Cian nodded and savoured it slowly this time, while gaze would wander towards the dance floor once in a while.

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