Page 23 of His Dark Delights
“Not so fast!” Gerald’s fist snatched the trailing ends of my hair, causing pain to snap over my scalp. My neck snapped back from the force of the armored hand whipping me around. A scream died on my lips when Gerald brought his arm down on the back of my head, sending me into darkness.
I awoke in darkness, half slumped over on the front of a horse with a knight’s hard armor against my back. My skull throbbed, and a persistent ache in my chin told me I’d fallen flat on my face after the blow knocked me out. Lifting my heavy head, I thankfully noted it wasn’t Gerald holding me upright on the dreadfully swaying beast.
The swaying—too much swaying. My brain spun in circles and my stomach churned like a storm on the seas. All the movement threatened to bring up the last meal I ate, and I didn’t even know when that was.
Once the pounding in my head cleared enough for me to take in my surroundings, my heart rate quickened, racing faster by the second. The mountain range I’d grown up beneath was leagues behind us, hidden by the darkness of an early morning yet to breach the sky. Ahead, growing ominously larger under the twinkling stars, were the towering spires and arched steeples of the capital city of Elleslan, peeking over the top of an oppressively thick wall of dark stone.
As we neared the capital, the first golden fingers of sunlight reached into the sky, threading through the black dome and beating back the night. Dawn rose higher, illuminating the gleaming peaks and massive size of the city, which far surpassed anything I could have imagined as a small village farm girl.
The stone gate loomed overhead. My breaths came in short, shallow, and sharp, matching the erratic rhythm of my heart. Increasing daylight revealed bits of iron inlaid between the craggy surface of the barrier wall, and its presence sent a wave of revulsion through my stomach. Only my human half made entering the city bearable.
No surprise the Elleslan capital had a towering wall fitted with iron guarding the border to keep out the fae. I was only half, yet passing through the heavily guarded gate provoked a cold sweat on my brow and a rolling nausea in my gut. The sensation eased but left me rattled as we entered the waking city.
Citizens were leaving their homes and going about their morning routines on every street from the lower rungs of the city where the working classes dwelt, bustling to their duties, all the way to the finer streets where noblemen and ladies in fine gowns ate breakfast on their balconies or in their neatly manicured gardens.
The flowers within the city whispered to me on the wind, crying out as humans improperly tended them. They wanted the freedom to grow naturally, to dig their roots deep into the soil and thrive under the sunlight. Here, mortals preened and manicured them in ways that shortened their lifespan and stole their natural freedom, making them miserable.
More than ever, I wanted to be home running through my wildflowers.
None of the citizens gave me or the knights more than a second glance as the horses clopped down the cobbled streets, passing the city subjects and carriages. In fact, there were knights in midnight blue uniforms with crowned stag and crossed sword pins on their lapels, riding horseback on nearly every street.
Had Elleslan always protected itself so heavily against the fae, or was that the Butcher’s doing? Did the hatred between the two realms run deeper than I’d presumed?
My woe-begotten thoughts dashed to the ground when the rising sun illuminated the imposing castleat the heart of the city. Fifteen towers of varying heights made of dark blue stone appeared to glitter in the morning light. Each one tipped with spikes of iron pierced the sky, connected to one another by curved bridges and the resplendent sections of the palace that made up each wing and quarter. Grand windows were scattered generously across the walls in symmetrical patterns, and mourning doves sang as they flew from the spires.
The soldiers escorting me rode through the colossal wooden doors of the inner walls’ open gate, rushing past citizens lined up to enter the palace. Along the inner wall of battlements, guards in polished armor stood firm, gripping tall lances, watching the open skies, and the city subjects coming or going from the palace grounds.
Entranced by the sight of so many people, their clothes, the smells, their interactions, I didn’t notice when the knight behind me steered the horse away from the grand entrance and toward a side entrance, away from the other palace visitors until they vanished from view. I blinked and found myself around the castle at a smaller door where merchants were delivering fresh produce, meats, cheeses, and wines to the kitchen staff.
Summoned by the king and ferreted into the palace in secret? What a grand welcome, indeed. If I weren’t on the verge of spiraling into a wave of panic, I might have scoffed.
The knight behind me leapt off the saddle. A young squire with an untamed mop of orange curls attending some nearby horses ran up when he noticed our arrival.
“Thank you, Frezzan. Alert the king’s secretary thatwe’ve returned,” the knight I finally recognized as Rhydan ordered. When he removed his helm, the young squire accepted it with a bow before darting off.
“His Majesty is listening to petitions now. He doesn’t need further distractions,” Gerald complained as he vaulted from his horse.
Rhydan pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly. When he met Gerald’s eye, there was something wicked gleaming there. “You’ve done enough yourself. Leave. I’ve no more use for you for now.”
“Fine by me. I’ll go down to the brothel and have myself a pleasant drink.” Gerald raised his hands and tossed them down dismissively as he backed away.
The third knight grabbed the horses’ reins and helped the groomsmen corral them to the palace stables. Only when Gerald and the other soldier were out of sight did I manage a deep, lung filling breath of air.
A heavy hand landed on my shoulder. Immediate reflexes to flinch propelled me away from Rhydan and his sad smile.
“I am sorry for the rough treatment, my lady. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you inside.”
“I am no lady,” I retorted.
Rhydan shrugged, rolling his wide shoulders. “Whatever you are, you’re wanted inside.”
Whatever I am, I thought as I followed Rhydan through the door. If they knew what I was, they wouldn’t welcome me here. I was more likely to be cast out or murdered within the grand walls.
No matter what happened within the capital city or the palace, I vowed to keep the secret of my heritage safe. My very life depended on it.
Rhydan led me first through the kitchen back doors where palace staff were unloading and storing goods in a pantry as large as my cottage, then through a brightly lit kitchen where a substantial staff worked diligently to prepare meals for the day. The heady aromas of toasted spices, caramelized onions, and roasted garlic flowed through my nose, giving rise to a longing pang within my empty stomach.
We marched through an endless maze of hallways. If not for my inherent affinity for direction that always guided me to the sun, I might not have noticed Rhydan was leading me back toward the front entrance. As soon as the thought occurred, a well-dressed, barrel-chested man swept around the next corner. He moved so fast one of the massive tapestries hanging on the blue stone wall fluttered in the breeze he stirred up. Red faced and practically steaming, the sweaty man stomped up to Rhydan.
