Page 8 of His Noble Savior

She stood, handing Richard the vials. He expressed his gratitude, still stunned by her suggestion to assist in Lilian’s most intimate healing. She closed the door behind her, and Richard listened to the fading echo of her footsteps as the silence in the room thickened.

Lilian righted himself but kept his hands on Richard’s arm. Indiscernible emotion floated in his gaze.

“We don’t have to do this,” Richard said, and Lilian’s expression darkened. “I know the healer thinks the faerie oil would do you good, and I’m sure she’s right, but we don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable. Everything that happens in these roomsis up to you.”

“Do you not want to?” Lilian asked in a small voice.

“What? No, I do want to help you. But if you prefer to try on your own, I understand. There’s no pressure, though if you’d like my help, I’m here.”

Lilian exhaled, then nodded, his tangled hair swaying as he looked away. “I want your help. Please.” His lips twisted. “I’m in so much pain. Every move feels like a knife is twisting inside me.”

Richard’s mouth thinned into a narrow line. He was going to raise an army and slaughter those orcs. Gently, he rubbed Lilian’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Of course I’ll help you.” Wide eyes bore into him. “Let me get some towels…”

He rose and Lilian with him, keeping one hand on his sleeve as if he feared Richard would run. They crossed the room and entered Richard’s spacious bedchamber. Unlike his rustic drawing room, his sleeping quarters were airy, the walls and ceiling painted a soft white. Grand windows opened into the inner courtyard on one side and granted a magnificent view of the Somer Valley on the other.

Richard pulled a couple of pristine white linen towels from his wardrobe, and the scent of freshly washed clothing filled his nostrils. Lilian never left his side, his eyes cast to the floor. It tugged at his heartstrings.

“Can I touch you?” Richard asked.

“Yes.”

He pulled Lilian close, one arm full of towels, the other hugging his thin frame. “You can do the same. Hold onto me whenever you like. I’m here to support you.”

Richard guided him to the divan, agonizing about the pain each step had to cause Lilian. He’d make it better.

“I don’t normally cling to people like this,” Lilian said,watching Richard spread the towels on the divan.

“It’s normal. I suppose you were the only captive?”

“Yes.”

“That must’ve been lonely, and I understand that you crave connection. It’s to be expected.” Richard smoothed down the towels. “A couple of months ago, my brother Nathan was taken by orcs.”

“Oh.”

“He’s twenty-two, only a little older than you. I worry about him. My cousin James of Castlehill persuaded the elves to assign one of their knights, Kamuel, to Nathan’s rescue mission. Now Kamuel has gone missing too, likely abducted by orcs.”

Lilian climbed onto the divan, wincing as he moved. “I’m sorry about your brother and the elf. I hope you find them soon.”

“Me too.” Richard straddled the narrow divan and sat. “If you’re uncomfortable or in pain, tell me, and I’ll stop immediately. You’re in complete control of what happens, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Lilian reclined and dragged the cloak over his torso to maintain propriety but exposed his legs, bending them at the knees to grant Richard access. Bruises and scratch marks dotted him from his feet to his thighs. To hell with those orcs.

Richard uncorked the faerie oil, and a floral scent emerged. He poured the amber liquid into his palm and dragged his middle finger through it, slicking it. He glanced at Lilian, who’d fixed his eyes on the ceiling beams. His body was relaxed, which would help with the application of the oil. Richard was going to beverygentle.

Chapter Four

Lilian

A wave of relief crashed over Lilian when the healer suggested Richard should help him with the oil. Richard was becoming Lilian’s anchor, the one who calmed him when the vortex of fear threatened to swallow him. Learning his life had been shortened by centuries had sent him spiraling into panic, and he’d latched onto Richard.

Like a duckling imprinting on the first thing it saw after hatching, Lilian had attached to the first person he’d seen upon his escape. The first person who’d been selflessly kind to him. Lilian clung to Richard.

The thought of the healer touching him had his stomach churning, while Richard tending to his most intimate wound was calming. Richard gave him confidence. He was gorgeous with his high cheekbones and full pink lips, which were almost too sensual and contrasted by a strong jawline. His bronze curls were artfully tousled, and gold flecked his emerald green eyes. Richard’s gaze on him felt like lying in the afternoon sun. His hands were tender and strong, making Lilian feel safe, and when Richard said nothing would happen to him, that he wouldn’t be hurt, Lilian believed him.

Lilian had been used and betrayed by the people closest to him. Richard had everything a man could want—a castle, wealth, friends and family. He had nothing to gain by helping Lilian, which was why he could be trusted.

Regardless, Richard had to feel awkward with Lilianclutching him, but he couldn’t let go when every touch was soothing reassurance. He was lucky Richard tolerated his presence. Of course, Richard had balked when the healer suggested he apply the faerie oil, begrudgingly accepting to do it. He wouldn’t want to touch someone as tarnished as Lilian. Richard was destined for greatness, and Lilian was sure he internally recoiled at the notion of coming near the part of Lilian’s body the orcs had violated over and over. Lilian was dirty and covered in bruises. Richard helped him with the faerie oil out of a sense of duty and hid his disgust admirably well. He had a heart of gold and wouldn’t want anybody to suffer. Richard’s subjects had to love him.

---