Page 22 of His Dark Delights
The rains eased over the land, bringing brighter days and warm sunlight. I told myself each morning that the sun would heal the fractures in my heart and soul. If I stood in the wildflower field long enough, maybe I’d take root in the soil and bloom once again.
I stood in my field, a day over two weeks since I’d fallen into the writhing seas of misery, with my bare feet firmly planted in the earth. Dirt rolled over my toes, and I raised my arms to the sun, breathing in the breeze and swaying with the renewed, vibrant flowers that had surged taller after the recent rains. Under streaksof buttery light, I rolled my head back, soaking in the inherent healing magic of nature.
Threads of gold wove through my limbs, curling around my spirit like the delicate caress of a lover. They lifted me higher, allowing me to breathe deeper and shake off last night’s dreams of fairy parties in the woods.
Millie sauntered from the pasture, treading carefully through the flowers on her way to me. I sensed her hooves plodding through the ground, each step echoed through me as if I had roots and the other plants were communicating her location to me. She shoved her head against my outstretched hand, and I scratched her favorite spot behind her ear.
“Moo.”
My eyes snapped open, and I removed my hand from behind her ear. Prying beasts didn’t earn scratches. “I am not thinking about him,” I argued, almost petulant enough to stomp my foot.
Millie swayed her head at me. “Moo,” she insisted.
“Really, I wasn’t. I’m over it—over him.” I smoothed my hands over my apron before crossing my arms. “The rest of my days will be lived out here on this farm in quiet solitude.”
“Moo.” She nudged her head into my shoulder, forcing me back several steps.
I retaliated, shoving uselessly at her hindquarters. “Oh, leave it alone, you big heifer!”
She stomped her front legs in response; a playful action meant to entice me into running through the field with her. I hadn’t done so in weeks, too weighed down by the heavy, leaden state of my heart. Maybe running under the midday light would bring laughterback to my lips—
Shouting from the road and baying horses snatched my attention from Millie. Her massive head veered to the front yard the instant a soldier charged around the house. When he spotted me, he yanked the reins, and his war horse reared up on its hind legs.
On weakening knees, I rocked forward. Mille stepped back in time for me to grab hold of her neck. She was all the support I had as a renewed panic swept through me and stole my senses.
“No, no, no. They’ve come for me. I’m going to die,” I whined into her neck.
I should have run to find the fae as soon as I was alone. Staying here had been a mistake.
The knight pulled his horse to a halt with nothing but my cow between us. He lifted the faceplate of his helmet, revealing shrewd dark eyes and a sun wizened face. “You are Lilliana, are you not?”
No point in lying now. Either a neighbor in the village gave me away or the king had realized the truth I’d kept hidden from him.
I braced my hands on Millie’s spine and stood taller. “I… I am.”
Two more knights rode around the house, trampling through my garden, the field, and the flowers. My jaw clenched, and my brows pinched together.
“We’re here to collect you and bring you to the capital. By order of His Majesty, King Soren Carnifex,” the first knight stated.
Red blazing fury rose within me, like the head of a cobra rising to strike. How dare that bastard leave me high and dry, weeping in the wake of his lies, hisabsence, only for him to order strangers to come collect me as if I were a simple possession? I didn’t belong to the king, and he had no right to send men to fetch me.
Soren Carnifex broke me, and when I finally found the will to rebuild myself, a semblance of him returned to taunt me.
“I will not go,” I retorted, voice firmer than the trembling inside me.
The knight arched a brow, then scoffed. “It is not a request, girl.”
A second knight reached us. The familiarity of his voice reminded me of the day my heart turned to ash. “Watch your tongue, Gerald. The king wants her. She’s important.”
Gerald laughed, a sound that cracked through his lips. Then he smacked Millie on the rump, sending her bellowing and running into the pasture.
A startled yelp vented from me as I stumbled back.
“Aye, she’s as important as any hole is,” he grunted. “Now, let’s grab the mewling quim and get this over with.”
The third knight, a younger man, swung his horse behind me, all three of them now caging me in. “Right. I hate the bleeding countryside.”
Terror surged through me, kicking my limbs into action. “No, I’m not going with you!” At the first available chance, I flung myself between two horses.
