Oriana's hands were pressed against his chest to support her body and keep distance between them, but her face was merely an inch away from his. His alcohol-reeked breaths fanned against her face, making her wrinkle her nose in distaste. She wanted to move away from him, but his arm wrapped around her had kept her squirming body pinned in place.
"Your Highness, please let me go."
'Is he really drunk or just acting up?'
Those stormy blue eyes stared into her scared ones, sometimes accusing, at times questioning.
'Where were you? Why did you take so long?' These were the silent questions being asked in that gaze.
"Your Highness…"
In response, his one hand moved away from her back only to gently settle along her cheek and caressing it, making sure she was right there in front of him and it was not an illusion, his eyes never leaving the sight of those hazel ones.
'What kind of gaze it is?'