Page 39 of His Noble Savior

He gave one of the knights a sharp nod, and she sprung into action. In the inner courtyard, the stable master took the fae’s horses while the steward directed the servants. Richard had skirted a diplomatic incident.

As soon as the attendants guided Bellerose and her household toward the castle’s many guest chambers, Richard sprinted up the stairs to his writing room, Lilian on his heels. They burst through the door.

“I can’t believe I missed her letter,” Richard mumbled, shuffling the papers on his desk. He thumbed through several neat stacks while Lilian searched the shelves. “I wondered why the queen hadn’t sent another message.”

Richard dropped a stack and cursed as the pages tumbled to the floor. Lilian helped him gather the papers, finding a letter with an unbroken pink seal. “I think it’s this one.”

He handed Richard the missive, their fingers brushing. Would this be the last time they touched? With Bellerose at Somerdale Castle, Lilian had no idea if he and Richard should even be in the same room anymore.

Richard tore through the seal and unfolded the letter. His eyes flitted over the page. “This is it. Queen Dahlia announced Bellerose’s arrival for today. She didn’t even ask if it was convenient. When you’re royalty, you get away with that.”Richard read to the end of the page. “It says Bellerose wants to discuss a possible betrothal in person and establish what each party hopes to gain from the arrangement.”

An arrangement. That was all the wedding would be. A political move executed in a lavish ceremony. It’d help with the war against the orcs and hopefully bring Richard’s brother home. There was no love between Richard and Bellerose. And yet, Lilian couldn’t help but fear the abandonment Richard’s wedding would bring. There’d be no room for Lilian in his life once he was married. Hell, there might be no room for him once they walked out the door. Richard had obligations and wouldn’t be available to someone as broken as Lilian.

“I’m sorry this has been sprung on you,” Richard said. “If I’d known Bellerose wanted to visit, I would’ve told her this wasn’t a good time.”

“No, it’s fine,” Lilian said, hoping his dejection wasn’t plain on his face.

Chapter Thirteen

Richard

Richard didn’t want to marry Princess Bellerose. She was the bride of everyone’s dreams: of royal blood, intelligent and attractive. She walked with her head held high, and Richard bet that her sword-fighting skills matched those of her knights. Marrying her promised protection. He’d be foolish not to court her.

Maybe hewasbeing foolish. Despite Bellerose’s obvious qualities and the advantages their union would bring, the thought of marrying her made him nauseous. She wasn’t the one he wanted. Their personalities would clash—Richard was a provider. He looked after and protected his younger brothers and now Lilian, too. Bellerose was a princess and he a baron, making him the lower-ranking spouse. He’d be expected to defer to her. Kneel for her. The marriage bond would connect his soul to hers, emotions flowing freely between them. Richard couldn’t do it.

But an alliance with the Spring Court would deliver troops to the front and hold off the orcs. Spring fae knights would be combing the forests of southern Vale in search of Nathan. It was such a dilemma. Not marrying Bellerose meant abandoning his brother and his country.

And if Richard decided against Bellerose, how could he wiggle out of this without causing a diplomatic incident? The princess was inside his castle’s walls, and he knew better than to be rude to a fae, such a powerful one no less. If he blew off the courtshipon the day of her arrival, or worse, asked her to leave, he’d attract the wrath of the Spring Court. It’d put Lilian in danger. Bellerose wouldn’t take it kindly if Richard favored an ordinary fae over her. Lilian was anything but ordinary, but Bellerose wouldn’t see it that way. Angering her could have devastating consequences for Lilian, Richard, and the Dalton barony.

When they ate in the dining hall that night, Richard was rigid with tension. The dark, wood-paneled walls on both sides of the narrow room were closing in on him, the portraits of his ancestors looking down at him with disdain. If he didn’t please Bellerose, she could ruin his house.

They sat on opposite ends of the long table, Bellerose perfectly poised, the chandeliers throwing golden light onto her hair. Richard hadn’t had the heart to sit apart from Lilian, who’d taken a seat to his right. Tremors rattled him until Richard extended a leg under the table and touched a foot to his.

George and Resh sat to Richard’s left, George visibly uncomfortable with the situation—he ought to have figured out Richard and Lilian were lovers. Resh, on the other hand, was inappropriately amused, grinning from ear to ear. Bloody imps.

The rest of the chairs were filled with the highest-ranking members of Bellerose’s royal household: lords, ladies and knights. The servants brought steaming bowls of stew, and the scent of boiled vegetables and herbs rolled over the table. Throughout the starter, Richard and Bellerose engaged in polite but meaningless conversation about the weather, last year’s harvest, and the history of Somerdale Castle.

Richard was relieved the cook had been able to throw together a meal for such a large dining party. The servants had rushed to ready the guest chambers upon Bellerose’s unexpected arrival and were still cleaning hers when she appeared at its threshold. She took the lack of preparation in stride and didn’tcomplain.

When the table finished their starters, the attendants collected the empty plates and disappeared with them, tense silence settling over the table. Richard prayed they’d deliver the main course swiftly. In the uncomfortable stillness, Bellerose’s eyes glided from him to Lilian. He hadn’t explained Lilian’s presence at the castle.

“I see you’ve taken a spring fae lover,” Bellerose said so casually, it took a moment for the shock to bolt through Richard. Lilian didn’t move a muscle. “I appreciate that you’re familiarizing yourself with my kind before our wedding.”

Were they that obvious? Didn’t she mind?

“Lilian has been a guest at my castle for some time,” Richard said evasively. He didn’t want to confirm or deny Bellerose’s statement and risk angering her.

“I don’t mind him showing you the ropes. I’m no jealous woman, and our betrothal is subject to further negotiation.”

Richard kept his expression blank. It was a good sign that Bellerose took his relationship with Lilian lightly, though he wasn’t sure what to make of that. If he wed Bellerose, was this going to be one of those marriages where it was clear both spouses would keep a lover on the side? Did Bellerose have a lover? Perhaps one of the lords or ladies at this very table? That’d make things easier, though Richard wasn’t one to split his love. He had no idea for how long Lilian would stay, but he deserved better than being Richard’s kept man.

“Of course,” Bellerose said, interrupting his train of thought, “once we’re married, I expect your unconditional loyalty.”

“Of course,” Richard echoed, an answer so ambiguous, any fae would’ve been proud of it.

If Bellerose noticed his evasion, she didn’t comment on it. Before either of them could say anything else, the servants marched into the room, carrying heavy platters of sliceddumplings served with gravy, sauteed red cabbage and fried mushrooms.

For dessert, Bellerose’s cook had joined Somerdale Castle’s kitchen and prepared one of the many types of spring faerie cake. It came in peach-sized servings of baked dough in a bed of leaves and was topped with a green paste sprinkled with small, glossy pearls Lilian swore were edible.

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