Page 34 of His Dark Delights
Lilly
Mrs. Gibbons outfitted me in a simple blue dress with a leather belt around the waist to match the walking boots she offered.
I pinned the strands of hair framing my face up, leaving enough layers to cover the tips of my oddly arched ears.
Though nerves squirmed in the pit of my guts, enough excitement for the outing carried me forward.
By midmorning, Ren found me in the garden, chatting with Millie-Moo as I did most days. He offered the heifer a bow and a charming smile before offering his arm. I accepted, leaning into his warmth as he guided us from the safety of the palace.
The king wore casual clothing meant to blend in with any other man in the city. Rhydan insisted on a cloak for the king to hide his face, but Soren refused. Too full of bravado and arrogance to care if anyone recognized him, much to my chagrin.
A violet and azure afternoon sky streaked with wispy clouds guided us through the palace gates into the upper city levels.
Soren sauntered by my side, the back of our hands brushing every few steps.
The clinking, banging, rattling, whooshing sounds of a city surging with life greeted my ears as the streets unfolded into the tapestry of a bustling world.
“Where would you like to go first, Lilly?”
“I’m not sure. Anywhere but the town square.” The thought of going near the site where his brutal sobriquet came alive repelled me.
“Hm.” Soren turned ideas over his head with a slight frown tugging at his mouth. He stroked his chin for a moment before clearing his throat. “Would you like to see where I grew up?”
“Oh, yes, please.” A spark ignited in me, perking me up. I longed to see where Ren learned and grew in his early years. To learn more about him and the man he kept buried under his hard exterior. To understand him better than before might aid in my mission.
“Follow me then.” He grabbed my hand to tug me down a side street, and my heart palpitated from the simple but thrilling contact. His palm fully engulfed mine, and I reveled in that size difference.
Soren led me away from the imposing sapphire stone spires of the castle looming like phantoms in my periphery.
I wished I could have relaxed the further we went, but I noticed three disguised guards following us.
They hid in the shadows of the city, keeping track of their king and lurking around corners the further we went .
He guided me through streets that all looked the same in my eyes.
Along the way, he explained the historical significance of buildings or statues.
He wove little bits of his personal life within the tales he shared; where he was when he decided to join the ranks of soldiers, where he was when he and Rhydan got into their first fight, and the street corner where he had his first kiss with a girl whose name he’d long forgotten.
I soaked in the views, the craftsmanship of the city, and the architecture of the oldest buildings.
Most of the structures were crafted of average red brick or gray stone, but some of the more prodigious homes claiming choice locations nearest the palace were erected of marble, boasting a hint of the same precious blue stone that made up the castle.
As we ambled along, I learned more about Soren Carnifex and the man he was beneath his armor. The version of him I’d originally loved gradually emerged, smiling wider with every aspect of his life that he disclosed during our outing.
The exhilaration of running through the capital in secrecy with the king caught up to me. I laughed and grinned at his side, hungry for every minor detail he could spare. And the consolation of not feeling like an outcast in a city full of people who barely spared us a second glance thrilled me.
His kingdom stretched out as a vibrant canvas, alive with the pulse of society.
A cacophony of sounds, horse-drawn buggies clattering on cobblestones, merchants soliciting their wares, street musicians playing lively melodies, all drifted through the air, alighting my senses with the stimulation of discovery.
Soren and I wove through noisy throngs of people, and I marveled at the web of colors and textures surrounding us. A kaleidoscope of lavish silks and rich velvets, nobles adorned in refined garments. Store fronts boasted sparkling gowns and accessories bearing the finest of jewels.
Through the bustling market square the air thickened with the mouthwatering aroma of spices, mingling with the heady sweetness of fresh pastries tempting the passerby. Soren led me to a street swelling with stalls laden with an array of goods I could never have imagined.
“Here, you’ll love this.” Ren offered a fig caramelized in a honey concoction.
A delighted moan escaped me as the sample melted on my tongue, and Ren watched with darkened eyes.
Then he plied me with morsels of roasted lamb on a stick, candied nuts, pastries twisted into shapes and stuffed with cheese, garlic, and herbs.
Somehow, the wares in the city rivaled the meticulous meals of the palace.
Each taste revealed flavors that went beyond the simple world of my village.
And the people—gods, the people—they didn’t know what I was.
Most didn’t even recognize their king without his telltale crown adorning his brow.
Those people we encountered shared stories of traders from distant realms, artisans displayed hand crafted trinkets, and an abundance of children laughed as they chased one another through the streets.
With their lives and hopes and dreams on display, I felt a kinship with them, a shared humanity through the blood of my father coursing through my veins.
For the first time in my life, I felt like one of them.
The descending sun ambled toward the horizon, casting a cozy glow of the city.
I leaned into Soren, brimming with gratitude and a newfound appreciation for humans.
In those crowded streets, by my side, he went beyond the duty of a king and embraced the role of a man showing the woman he loved the beauty and wonder of the place he grew up.
In doing so, he’d opened my eyes to a depth of his character once out of reach.
I had remained in the city, intent on feigning my adoration for him to sway his mind on the war.
But Soren was not only the ruler of a kingdom, he was also a man who cherished the simple joys of life and wanted to share that life with me .
The capital of Elleslan had revealed its secrets, forcing me to unveil the truth of my feelings.
I loved Soren.
A secret voice in my head whispered that I could love the good with the bad without settling for cruelty.
A good man hid under the king’s brutal exterior, and that was the version I desired to give my heart to.
If I could love all the roughened facets of Soren, could he love both sides of me, human and fae?
As the sun sighed its final breath of the day, Ren’s tour of the city wound toward the outer edges, where the quality of the city lowered significantly.
We neared a section of the city near the iron-studded outer wall where homes along the streets shrank, morphing from cozy and humble into run-down shacks.
Ren’s hand on mine tightened, squeezing my fingers hard enough that my bones complained. His entire frame stiffened, rigid with rousing tension. His earlier smile melted into a grimace, stressed by his knitted brows and roving glare.
No one blinked twice at the king in their midst. He led me through crowds of people who shambled like forlorn ghosts. Most gave him a wide berth simply from the aura of aggressive power radiating off him and creeping wider in virulent waves with each step he took.
We turned a corner, and a tall body slammed into my shoulder.
A soft grunt startled from me, and my head whipped up as a cloaked figure marched away.
But more than a blunt force ache, a bolt of magical awareness tingled through my nerves.
Like the static shock I’d experience as a child after rubbing my socks on the rug for too long and poking my father in the arm, only intensified by ten.
The same electric current I’d felt the night before on the balcony when I thought I saw someone hovering in the dark. But it should have been impossible when we were stories above the city. I couldn’t have seen a person floating in the dark—
The hooded figure also sensed the connection.
He stopped in his tracks, head snapping around quick enough to break his neck. From beneath his hood, I locked onto twinkling gray-green eyes. His lips parted in an unheard sigh of disbelief at the same time my breath hitched.
Fae . He was a fae.
There was a fae in the city, walking the same street as a king who hated his kind. It couldn’t be true. He shouldn’t be here.
A fairy walked among men at the heart of the Fairy Butcher’s kingdom. He was so close I might have reached out and touched him, grabbed him, pulled him nearer to ask him questions and beg for answers.
Ren’s hand twitched around mine, and he glanced over his shoulder upon noticing someone bumped into me. My stare remained firmly on the fae man, whose brow tweaked up with recognition for the taller, dark-haired human behind me.
The glacial hatred in his eyes roused ice shards under the surface of my skin.
“Are you alright, Lilly?” Ren’s voice snagged my focus.
I faced forward, smiling timidly at him. “I’m fine. The streets are just crowded.”
“People down here have no manners. We’re almost there, though. Only a bit further.” Ren grimaced over the packed streets, ramshackle stalls, and dirty puddles of questionable liquids. Without another word, he readjusted our interwoven fingers and tugged me along.