The Dragon Prince's Bride
Chapter 178. Her drunken habit

Chapter 178: 178. Her drunken habit

The road wasn’t too smooth but it wasn’t too rough either. They had frequent stops, spending nights in lavish inns whose owners were all too happy to have the crown prince and the princess whose tales had reached many, staying at their inn. Even the servants of the inns were eager to serve the guests.

Barak and Neriah spent their inn nights doing what they had come to know how to do best; being in the company of each other and according to Barak, working towards having those babies she had talked about.

It made Neriah wonder whether if he knew she was actually already pregnant with his child, he would reduce the amount of sexual intimacy they shared.

When they weren’t busy exploring each other’s bodies, Neriah was listening to the many tales of Trago that she had read wrongly about or had never even heard of. Her husband, she realized, was a brilliant storyteller.

They would have reached the duke’s mansion in Fortia on the third day of their movement from the capital, but while passing a small village that led to Fortia, a small festival was being held and Neriah insisted on partaking in it. Barak had no say in the matter whatsoever.

However, things had gone downhill quickly.

It all started when Neriah had asked to have just a sip of alcohol... "Just a small sip, Barak! Just a tiny small sip!" She had begged him.

"No, I like my woman strong, not drunk. A drunk woman is a crazy woman." Barak had responded.

"It is made from bananas! It is not harmful at all! I have had much more stronger wines back in Avelah, albeit I snuck them into my room,"

"Ah hah, I knew it. So you snuck out to drink? You are not so much a princess as you are a little rat."

"Do not call me a rat! I prefer to be called a beautiful serpent that slithers around silently. And also I did not sneak out to have some wine. I had it snuck in." She had sounded proud about it and Barak was dumbfounded.

"Neriah, what normal person prefers to be called a serpent over a rat?" She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it, "You know what, do not answer that. No alcohol for you my dear Spitfire."

"Ahh! You are my husband, not my father and I shall do as I please!" She stomped her feet on the ground, but the deadpan look on his face said it all. She was not having a sip.

"Barak, I can drink and I am not asking that you give me an entire jar, just a small taste! I swear, no matter how drunk I get, I do not have any drinking habits."

After much persuasion and convincing from Neriah, Barak had allowed her to have a sip of Liquor. He thought it would be fine as it was mildly fermented banana liqueur but then came the display of the century.

"Neriah, will you calm down for my sake at least! You are going to pull out all my hair!" And because of that he found out about her drunken habit which according to her was nonexistent.

Unlike most people, she did not blurt out secrets or become more violent or things like that. No... Her drunken habit was that she was obsessed with hair...

"I am calm. I am very calm right now, can you not see how perfectly I have weaved your hair? It looks like a basket." She exclaimed and clapped as though she had done something actually wonderful.

"Indeed a basket." Barak shook his head as he stared at his reflection in the mirror that stood on the wall of their room at the inn they stayed at. She was not wrong about that, she was crafting only the gods know what upon his head and she was nowhere near done.

She had cried and cried her eyes out, throwing a serious tantrum that was in no way befitting a princess of her caliber when he had first refused to give her his head to play with, until he had agreed. Now he sat on the ground with his back resting on the side of her bed and his head placed between her thighs.

"Have I ever told you, you have really silky hair." He tsked as she yanked his hair in a not so gentle manner so she could look at his face as she asked the question.

"No, no Neriah, I think this is the first time you are telling me." He answered and she smiled and pushed his head to face the ground again as she continued whatever it was he was doing on his head.

"I like your hair." She said, "It is so curly and curly and very curly." She said and he laughed.

"And I like yours too." He said.

"Really?"

"Aye, my dear Spitfire has the most magnificent hair in the whole world." He said as if he spoke with a 5 year old. He heard her giggle and lords just that pleasant giggle of hers did wonderful things to his heart.

"Do not worry, my dear husband, your wife has delicate hands, why? Because I am a—"

"Delicate rose, I know." He said.

"You know!" She laughed and he could not help but laugh along with her. A drunk Neriah was a pleasant sight. Albeit, tiresome to handle and a pain to his head, she was a pleasant sight still.

"Good. Do you also know I am the best hair stylist in the whole of Avelah. Not even Aria can beat me, and Aria is really good." She said and again, Barak looked at himself in the mirror and laughed at his own reflection.

"I see, so you are a far more better stylist than Aria." He said while suppressing a shriek as she brushed through his hair, probably changing styles again.

"Aye. I am better at this. Aria is also good, I mean Aria is good at everything. Do you know that? Do you know that Aria is good at everything?" She asked and he laughed softly at how she had suddenly changed their discussion to her personal maid.

"No, no Riah, I do not know that." He gladly indulged her, risking going bald by continuing the conversation.

"Oh she is the best. She is good at everything you can think of. I like Aria a lot."

"Really?"

"Aye, I am telling the truth this time, I swear."

"Who do you like more, Aria or me?" He asked and everything suddenly went quiet. He felt her hand on his head pause so he lifted his head, craned his neck so he could look at her.

She blushed and looking at her from the angle he was seeing her from, with her hair full and disheveled, covering one side of her face, falling to the side of his face... Lords, he had married a goddess. The fairest of them all... The one who never failed to entrap him with just the blink of her lashes, just as she was doing now.

His hand reached up to bring her head closer to his face but a sudden slap on his arm sent his hand flying back to the ground.

"I like Aria." She simply said and focused her attention on his hair once again. She had dodged his question. He thought he would be able to hear it again from a drunk Neriah but even in her drunk state she would not confess it again like she did that day.

That night, he allowed her to weave and reweave his hair in different styles until she had burned off all the energy she got from drinking and asked him to hold her to sleep, which he readily did. He rocked her to sleep like a newborn and when she had fallen asleep, he laid her on the bed and looked at himself in the mirror and laughed.

The next morning, Neriah woke up to see the not so beautiful artwork she had created on her husband’s head, much to her embarrassment and all through their day, he teased her nonstop about her weird habit and how much he was wrong about not wanting her to taste alcohol.

Neriah knew without a doubt that she had just given her husband a new thing to torment her with and just like he wasn’t letting go of her visit to the dungeon, he wasn’t going to let go of this either.

It was the early hours of the evening when they finally reached the duke’s mansion and Neriah had expected it, but it still awed her. It was huge and beautiful.

"" We welcome Your Highnesses to Fredah, may the peace of Narcissus be upon you."" Greeted the men and women who all stood in line at the entrance of the mansion to welcome their Lord and Lady.

"Fredah?" Neriah whispered to Barak.

"Aye, the name of the estate, Fredah." Barak said to her before turning to the staff and his smile brightened as his eyes fell on the old man who stood at the center with his head bowed.

"Hakan, it is nice to see you old man." Barak said as he worked up to him and hugged him. They exchanged some whispers which Neriah was very curious about. And by the time they were done talking, Barak walked back to Neriah and the man whispered some things to the workers. They all seemed shocked but then they all said in sync...

"" Welcome to Fredah, Duke and Duchess Der Drache."" and Neriah could not help the smile as she realized what the whispers had been about. Her heart was moving in patterns she could not understand, but one thing was certain, the man beside her made her heart race in a very good manner that she did not want it to ever stop...