Page 21 of His Noble Savior (Folk of Vale #3)
Richard
The evening of Lilian’s disappearance, his seat next to Richard on the long and narrow dining table remained painfully vacant. Richard’s eyes kept flitting to it as if he could magically conjure him if he looked often enough.
Unlike Lilian, Bellerose and her household joined him for a late dinner, the fae filing into the hall with the princess at their head. Richard had washed and changed upon his return, and guilt gnawed at him that he was about to have a lavish dinner and then crawl into a comfortable bed when Lilian would have neither that night. He wanted to keep searching, but it was pointless and dangerous at night. The biggest favor he could do Lilian was to eat and rest well and resume his search at dawn.
“I take it you’ve been unsuccessful in locating your companion,” Bellerose said as her valet pulled out the chair at the end of the table for her to sit.
“Yes,” Richard ground out.
“You shouldn’t worry about it. He’ll return when the shock wears off. If he doesn’t, he was looking for an excuse to leave.”
Richard’s jaw clenched. He wanted to strangle her. She knew nothing. Richard took a sip of his wine and washed down the bitter words on his tongue. He’d regret speaking his mind.
“Nathan and Ogharod are staying in the old steward’s house,” George said as he and Resh took their seats to Richard’s left. The house was a crumbling structure from their great-grandmother’s day when the steward used to live outside the castle walls. “I’ve stationed knights in front of the shack. The servants are bringing them food and blankets for the night.”
“Nathan is welcome to stay in his chambers,” Richard said.
“That’s what I told him, but he won’t leave Ogharod’s side. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” George flashed Resh a grin. “Well, maybe the same thing that’s gotten into me.”
With Lilian gone, Richard could barely be happy about Nathan’s return. His disappearance weighed on his heart. What if something had happened to him while he ran? What if there were more orcs? What if Richard had lost him forever? The thought was unbearable.
Cold determination steeled Richard. A chill sent goosebumps over his skin. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to get Lilian back. He’d leave Somerdale Castle at first light, and he wasn’t going to return until he had Lilian safe in his arms. What did he care if he left Bellerose sitting at his castle for a week? She was being fed at his expense. If his going after Lilian instead of arranging their betrothal offended her, that was her problem. Richard had greater worries.
“I’m going to resume my search tomorrow morning,” Richard told George. “Take care of our guests, and no matter what Nathan says, don’t let Ogharod into the castle. He needs to stay inside the old house. I don’t want him to scare Lilian when I return with him.” When, not if.
“Then you need to talk to Nathan tonight. And Ogharod. I’ve had a conversation with them, and it’s important you do too before you leave.”
Richard went to see them after dinner. Knights guarded the old house as George had promised, though Richard doubted they’d be able to hold Ogharod back if he wanted to run. Richard stayed in the sparsely furnished house for an hour, mostly listening. Afterward, he returned to the castle and prepared his departure.
Richard slept little and rode out before the sun rose. He’d dressed inconspicuously and kept a low profile, not wanting to attract attention. For two days, he combed the wider surroundings, sleeping at inns and eating with ordinary folk in rustic taverns, trying to get information from innkeepers and patrons alike.
He didn’t find or hear of Lilian. The most likely reason was that Lilian had left the vicinity. His scream still rang in Richard’s ears. The sight of an orc must’ve given Lilian such a fright that he ran and ran, unable to think straight. Had he fled to the Spring Court? If he wasn’t near Somerdale Castle, it was the likeliest place for him to go.
Richard rode for days, changing horses at inns to maintain speed. His legs and buttocks burned from the long ride, but the thought of Lilian being alone and without protection drove him forward. He wouldn’t stop until Lilian was safe.
One afternoon, he descended the hill into the Larne Valley, where the Spring Court was supposed to be located. Richard had traveled into the faerie realm only once when attending his cousin Henry’s wedding to Malorn of the Autumn Court. But then he’d been part of a long wedding train and hadn’t paid attention. It was possible to enter the faerie realm if one knew where the veil ran, but there was another, easier way.
Richard reached the grassy bottom of the valley and led his horse along the edge of a forest, the smell of wildflowers and wet moss following him. He found what he was looking for: a circle of white mushrooms in the lush green grass, the arrangement of the fungi unnaturally symmetrical. A faerie ring.
As a boy, his parents had warned him to never step inside such a circle, for it was sure to transport him to the faerie realm. As Somerdale Castle was close to the Summer Court, and the Autumn court wasn’t far either, the warning had been warranted. The faerie realm was a dangerous place for humans. If Richard ate faerie food in their world, he’d be bound forever, never able to leave for more than a day and a night. He’d brought water and provisions, hoping it was enough to get by until he returned. If he managed to return. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he couldn’t find Lilian.
It’d been a week since Lilian had run, but he could’ve spent a whole month in the faerie realm. Richard prayed Lilian hadn’t been alone for long.
He bound his horse to a tree with a long rope so the animal would find plenty of grass to munch on while he was away. There was no guarantee the horse wouldn’t be gone when he returned, but this was the best he could do.
Richard petted the animal’s coat, belted his sword and shouldered his bag. He eyed the circle of mushrooms. Stepping inside went against everything he’d been taught, but so did abandoning an excellent marital prospect.
Exhaling, Richard jumped into the circle. Colorful dots of light erupted from the mushrooms, dancing in the breeze as they ascended. They floated past him into the sky, and when they disappeared, Richard’s gaze returned to the meadow. His horse was gone. So were the mushrooms.
A field of flowers replaced the grass, and the coniferous forest had morphed into an apple orchard. The trees sported blossoms with thick, yellow centers and pure white petals, and from the branches hung the biggest, greenest apples Richard had ever seen. A sickly sweet scent wafted over.
Unsure where to go, he followed the burbling creek on the valley floor. Like all watercourses, it’d lead to a settlement.
He didn’t have to walk long. Soon, he met a well-trodden path that curved down from the hills until it met and followed the brook. Around the next bend, he ran into the outskirts of a town.
Welcome to Verdell , a wooden sign read in an elaborate cursive script. Richard followed a cobblestone path that passed between trees, houses and tree houses. The smothering omnipresence of flowers didn’t stop in town. Here too, the colorful riot crawled up walls, spouted from roofs and grew between the stones paving the streets.
Richard tried to cover his rounded ears, but his curls were too short to disguise he was human. Besides, he lacked the easy, floating step of the fae. Too bad. He’d accepted the risks of being a human in the faerie realm before he entered.
Handing out coins to everyone willing to help, Richard asked for a young potter living in a hollow tree somewhere in the Spring Court. The townspeople couldn’t help him, but then he found the local artisan quarter and the town’s pottery. The old fae behind the wheel knew Lilian and pointed Richard toward his home at the edge of the forest. Richard prayed he’d find him there. He didn’t know what to do if not.