Page 41 of His Dark Delights

Ren

The air inside the palace breathed a peculiar staccato, exhales mingled with the lingering aura of resentment and the barest, faintest spark of optimism.

Each step toward my room thumped in time with my beating heart, an echoing reminder of the weight on my shoulders.

I pushed open the heavy door, peering into the darkness and cringing at the creaking hinges striking a contrast against the obliterating silence.

The fairy prince, the symbol of everything I had fought against, was free, and the woman I loved—a woman I had trusted with my life—was the architect of his escape.

My gaze drifted toward the wall separating me from Lilliana.

I whispered her name under my breath, tasting the bittersweet flavor of it.

As furious as I was, I needed to confront her, to face the tsunami of emotions swelling within me.

I needed to speak to her—to understand.

I stepped toward the hidden door in the wall, inflating my lungs with a bolstering breath. What would I say? How could I articulate the whirlwind of pain and betrayal without losing sight of my greater purpose?

The closer I got to her door, the more I hesitated. The fear of what she might say gnawed at the edges of my resolve. Council meetings, Cecily’s opinions, the weight of the crown—none of it mattered as much as her.

I recalled the moments we had shared. Laughter drifting through the meadow, whispered secrets under the stars, a bond that felt unbreakable. Yet there I was, ready to confront the very person who had cut through that bond with a breakfast knife.

But she was mine. Lilliana was mine.

Reconciliation would take time, but perhaps a path forward existed for us. The excitement of the day must have affected Lilly’s judgment, tangling in the web of her hatred for the war. We could find our way back to one another. We had to.

My hand curled around the doorknob, and a voice—no, voices—stopped me. Muffled yet distinct through the thick wall of the door. Seething red-hot emotions clawed at my insides, sparked by suspicion and dread. I swept through the door and dipped under the tapestry to catch the conversation.

“—don’t tell me you’re backing out now, flower nymph,” an obviously male voice said, his words jamming a knife in my chest.

“No, I just— ”

My breath caught in my throat, disbelief and betrayal mingling in a bitter concoction. Lilly, a flower nymph? It couldn’t be true. She was the woman who had saved me, the woman who had become my world. Yet there it was, laid at my feet by whispers in the shadows.

Moonlight immersed her room, casting eerie shadows that seemed to mock my disbelief. Lilly stood there, her back to me, facing a figure crouching in the open window I recognized with a visceral hatred—the fae prince, his presence a stark reminder of the day’s treachery.

“Flower nymph?” I shouted, my voice roaring up my throat from the deepest pit of my curdled stomach.

Lilly turned, eyes flaring with shock and something I might have mistaken as guilt, even fear.

My chest clenched at the sight, uncertain whether she feared me, the fae, or being caught.

And my stomach heaved at the realization the woman I loved had always kept some secret out of reach—and now I knew.

In one swift blink, the prince struck like a viper, wrapping a hand around Lilly’s wrist and tugging her back through the open window. My heart thundered against the cage of my ribs in a wild rhythm that mirrored the chaos writhing within me.

“Lilly!” I hollered, lunging forward too late.

With a forceful leap, the prince stole Lilly through the window and into the night sky, his wings unfurling in a graceful arc that taunted my helplessness.

I stumbled to the window, watching as they disappeared into the darkness, my heart shattering with each beat.

“Guards!” I bellowed, voice hoarse with desperation. “Stop them. Don’t let him get away!” With her .

I ran through the labyrinth of palace corridors, my mind a storm of anger and sorrow.

Chaos erupted as soldiers rushed to obey, their armor clattering in the halls as they raced toward the palace grounds.

I knew, deep down, that it was futile. The fae prince was gone, taking with him the woman who had been my deliverance and my downfall.

How could she have deceived me? How could she have hidden such a crucial truth? And how could I have been so blind to it from the very beginning?

The once lavish castle gorged itself on my frenzy, morphing into a cage of stone and regrets. I paced the palace with the energy of an untamed beast, rage and indignation boiling in the marrow of my bones. I would find no rest within those walls, and no peace in her absence.

Hours marched into days, one blurring into the next.

Sleepless nights, harrowing training, and incessant meetings between the council and my generals stretched into one frantic tapestry of grief and torment.

After ending another meeting short, I’d stormed through the castle in search of silence, huffing and grinding my jaw to eradicate the woe-begotten state of the pitiful thing in my chest.

An hour into the night, Rhydan skidded to a halt when he found me in the throne room wearing a path at the base of the throne. His usually steady presence watched with a sympathy I didn’t want.

“Soren,” he said, approaching, “you should take a breath and try to calm down. ”

“Calm?” I spat, whirling on him. The anger squirmed in my chest, slithering through my ribs and demanding release. “How am I supposed to calm myself when I’ve been betrayed, and every day is a reminder of that fact?”

Rhydan held my gaze, his expression unwavering despite the tempest of my emotions. “She must have had her reasons,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm. “You know Lilly is not the enemy.”

“Not the enemy?” I echoed, disbelief and exasperation mingling in my voice. “She freed the fairy prince, Rhydan! The very one who tried to kill me, more than once, I remind you. The son of the bitch who threatens my kingdom!”

Rhydan rested a hand on my shoulder in a gesture of friendship. “Soren, listen to me. I know you love her. Do not let your anger cloud your judgment. You must remember who she is, what she’s done for you, and who she was to you.”

I shook my head, the motion sharp and vehement. “She was everything to me,” I admitted, the words a jagged truth that cut deep. “And now she’s torn it all apart— with him .”

“You know her heart. Lilly wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t leave you, without reason.”

I wanted to insist that her actions were treason of the highest order.

But deep down, beneath the layers of despair, there was a sliver of uncertainty, a whisper of the profound connection we shared.

Lilly had saved me once without seeking a debt.

Could there be more to her actions than met the eye?

The thought was a bitter medicine to swallow, a glimmer of hope amidst the wreckage of my heart. “I don’t know what to believe,” I confessed, my voice a raw whisper. “I feel as though I’ve lost everything.”

Rhydan’s eyes softened, his voice steady as an anchor. “You haven’t lost everything, Soren. Not yet. But you must see beyond your anger. Beyond your grief.”

It almost seemed as if he was saying something else entirely.

As I stood there, the shadows of doubt and indignation lingering, a flicker of determination ignited within me. I would find Lilly and demand an explanation for her actions. Bring her back to the palace where she belonged—with me. Because regardless of her actions, she was mine.

Always mine.

“We will find her, Ren. If that’s what you want, no matter where the journey leads. We’ll find her.” Rhydan gave my shoulder a last squeeze, his expression one of sobering support.

Exhaustion settled over me like a shroud as the night wore on, my steps finally leading me to the garden. The first light of dawn brushed the sky with pale hues, an insulting reminder of the new day that awaited. Another asphyxiating day without her by my side, within reach, in my arms.

A silver glow illuminated the palace gardens, painting the world in shades of ethereal beauty.

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of night-blooming jasmine.

The garden, usually a place of solace, felt haunted by memories and the weight of what had transpired.

Lilly’s presence lingered, a ghost I could not banish.

The garden was silent, a refuge from the tumult within me. I closed my eyes, the floral scents mingling with the echoes of Lilly’s laughter, her touch, the way she had once made me believe in something greater than duty.

I found myself drawn to the heart of the sanctuary, seeking the only creature left who might understand my turmoil.

There she was, Lilly’s beloved cow, Millie.

A gentle beast with eyes as deep as the night sky.

She stood steadily beneath the spreading branches of an ancient willow, her presence a comforting constant in a world turned upside down.

As I approached, she lifted her head, and her bell clinked.

Her gaze met mine with an intelligence that contradicted her simple nature.

“Hello, cow,” I murmured, my voice barely louder than the rustle of leaves overhead. “I suppose you’re the only one left who will listen to me without judgment.”

The cow blinked slowly, her eyes soft and patient. I settled onto the cool grass beside her, the earth solid beneath me, grounding me amidst the chaos of my thoughts.

“I miss her,” I confessed, the words tumbling out unbidden. “I miss her more than I can express, and yet... I feel betrayed. She was a fae, a flower nymph, and I—” I broke off, the admission a dagger twisting in my chest.

“She was never just a farmer’s daughter,” I continued, my voice barely a whisper. “The mother who left her behind, I presume?”

“ Moo ,” Millie confirmed.

“She was part of the very world I’ve been fighting against. How could she have hidden that from me? How could she have loved me, knowing who I am, what I’ve done?”

The cow shifted, her breath a warm puff in the cool night air. I reached out, running a hand along her flank, the action soothing in its familiarity. She was a reminder of the life Lilly once led, of the simplicity that had drawn me to her.

“But I can’t stop loving her,” I admitted, the words a raw confession. “I tried to tell myself it was a lie, a trick of the fae, but my heart refuses to listen. Every moment without her feels like a piece of me is missing.”

The cow nuzzled my shoulder, her quiet presence a balm to the storm inside me. I closed my eyes, the memories of Lilly flooding my senses—her giggles, the way she could light up a room with her mere presence.

“She saved me once,” I breathed, the truth a comfort I clung to. “When I was wounded, she cared for me without hesitation, without fear. That was real. I know it was.”

The garden was silent save for the whisper of the wind through the trees, the stars above a tapestry of distant light. I sat there, the weight of my crown forgotten, the burden of kingship lifted for a brief, tenuous moment.

“I have to find her,” I whispered, my resolve growing stronger with each passing second. “I have to go to the fae wild to bring her back, to show her I can love her the way she deserves.”

The cow watched me with those deep, knowing eyes, as if understanding the magnitude of the task I wanted to undertake. A fool’s errand, perhaps, but love had always defied reason, and I would risk everything for the chance to see her once more.

“Thank you,” I said, standing and giving the cow one last pat. “For listening, for reminding me of what truly matters.”

With the flowers as my witness and the cow as my silent confidante, I vowed to set forth on a path fraught with danger and uncertainty.

Lingering on a final glance at the moon-kissed royal garden, I turned back toward the palace, my steps sure and my purpose clear.

And, with each step, I grew more certain of one thing: Lilly was worth fighting for.

I would gather my forces and prepare for the perilous journey into the heart of the fae wild. I would face whatever challenges lay ahead to get back what belonged to me. Because she did belong to me—fae or not.