Page 46 of His Noble Savior

“Ogharod is no danger,” Nathan said emphatically.

Richard’s lips twisted. “If he’s a friend as you say, he’ll let my knights confine him.” He threw Ogharod a warning glance, then pulled Nathan into a one-armed hug, holding onto his sword. “Welcome home. I need to go find Lilian.”

“Who?”

Richard didn’t answer. He had no time to lose. Releasing Nathan, he spun on his heel and descended into the forest. He had half a mind to order all of Somerdale Castle to help him look for Lilian, but after seeing the orc, he was likely in a state of panic, and anyone but Richard would scare him away.

“Lilian!” Richard ran between the trees. Jumping over roots and fallen branches, he weaved through the forest that snaked around the side of the hill. He called for Lilian, praying to hear a response, but the woods remained silent.

Richard searched behind every tree and rock, calling Lilian’s name—Lilian would flee if he heard someone other than him blustering through the forest. Richard looked for fresh footprints but found nothing in the dry soil. It hadn’t rained in days.

With each passing minute, his heart beat harder. What if Lilian had stumbled and hit his head? He might be lying on the forest floor, unconscious. He might’ve curled up in a ball somewhere, rocking back and forth because the orc had triggered his worst memories. Richard shouldn’t have wasted time charging Ogharod and talking to Nathan; he should’ve gone after Lilian straight away.

After an hour of fruitless searching and shouting, Richard was hoarse. By noon, the ceaseless march through the forest was gnawing at his strength. He didn’t have time to eat, nor did hewant to—yes, he could’ve used the energy, but his throat closed up at the thought of food. Lilian had nothing with him and would soon be haunted by hunger pangs. Richard had to find him and take him home.

In the afternoon, Richard ran back to the castle and grabbed a horse from the stable master. No, Lilian hadn’t returned in his absence, she told him, and yes, the knights had detained the orc. Richard jumped onto his white mare and cantered through the gate, descending the slope. He’d left no stone unturned in the forest. Lilian had to have run past the trees. On horseback, Richard could draw wider circles than on foot, giving him a better chance at finding Lilian, who could’ve disappeared in any direction.

Richard rode into Somerdale and asked about Lilian, but nobody had seen him. He scanned the fields and searched along the river. By the end of the afternoon, his mare was tired from the frantic ride. At an inn, he swapped the animal for a fresh steed, promising to exchange them again before the end of the day.

With a new horse under him, Richard resumed his search, combing the surrounding area. He couldn’t find Lilian. He’d vanished without a trace.

Night descended. There was no point looking for Lilian in the dark. It was a moonless night, meaning Richard might miss or even trample an unconscious Lilian. The horse could trip and break its legs, and Richard was tired enough to fall out of the saddle. The best thing to do was return to the castle, eat and sleep—though he wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to do either of those things—and resume his search in the morning.

Beside himself with worry, Richard returned his borrowed horse and rode home on his mare. Questions crowded his mind. Why had Lilian been outside alone? Had Richard’s meeting withBellerose upset him so much? Richard couldn’t blame him.

What if there were more orcs in the area? Nathan claimed Ogharod wasn’t a threat, but orcs traveled in hordes, and there could be more. What if they’d taken Lilian? Richard couldn’t bear the notion of them violating him. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

Chapter Eighteen

Lilian

Lilian ran. He ran and ran, blindly racing through the forest and then across an open field, his labored breath wheezing in and out of him.

He wasn’t thinking. His mind was blank, and all that mattered was that his feet carried him away from the orc. He only paused once to drink from a swollen river, his shaky hands cupping cold water as he knelt in the damp grass, which soaked his trousers. At the smallest sound, he whipped around in a panic.

Lilian continued his flight, his legs burning as he raced away. Night fell, and he hid under the protruding roots of a giant tree. He didn’t sleep, his ears pricking up with every little noise. His pulse raced throughout the night as if he’d never stopped running. The smell of earth and pine needles was familiar, but it wasn’t the comforting sandalwood and leather scent his soul screamed for. An owl hooted, and Lilian curled in on himself. He tensed, a violent tremor rattling him. His muscles relaxed, then his entire body contracted over and over again, shuddering.

Orc. There’d been an orc. Tears slid down Lilian’s face.

Where was Richard? Lilian needed him, needed his strong arms to wrap around him, to shield him from the world. But those were fleeting thoughts. His mind flashed back to his captivity, to the unimaginable pain he’d gone through.

As soon as the sun rose, Lilian crawled out of his hiding place. Everything was a haze. His mind wasn’t working; all it did wasshriek in alarm and whip Lilian into a run.

It went on for days. As long as the sun was up, Lilian ran; after it’d set, he lay in a hidden corner of the forest, shivering on the cold floor. There was no rest for him. The orc could find him at any moment, and if he caught him, Lilian wouldn’t survive.

His thoughts swirled, cloudy like a thick soup. His heart pounded so hard it hurt, never easing up.

Day. Night. Day. Night. Day. Night.

More days and more nights.

Fear. So much fear. Lilian quivered incessantly.

He discovered the veil that separated the human world from the faerie realm by accident. It brushed his skin like cool silk as he stumbled into the Spring Court.

Flowers everywhere. They sprouted from the ground like weeds, blue and yellow butterflies dancing between them. Trees bloomed in all shades of the rainbow, their petals drifting through the air. The sweet, floral scent of spring overwhelmed Lilian, and he sank to his knees in the meadow.

A hundred yards further, a hamlet stood in a grove, blooming nature surrounding the houses. Pink flowers grew on balconies and roofs, and colorful tendrils crawled along the walls.

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