Chapter 462: A Saviour Who Was Supposed To Be In The Lower Fields

Chapter 461: A Saviour Who Was Supposed To Be In The Lower Fields

Lyria’s POV

Suddenly, someone else joined me.

Duke Thorncrest.

He was there in an instant, his hands closing about the girl, lifting her from my grasp with a strength that seemed almost effortless. The child’s weight left my arms, and for a moment I felt strangely empty, as though I had been holding something far more precious than I had realised.

Then rough hands dragged me back, pulling me away from the edge, and away from the hole that seemed determined to swallow everything above it.

Duke Thorncrest followed at once, carrying the girl and running towards us, towards what safer ground remained.

I watched as the crack widened behind him, as though pursuing us with a will of its own. The very spot where I had been kneeling but seconds before gave way entirely, collapsing into the darkness below, and the field beneath it followed, sinking into the earth with a terrible groan.

Fields I had been labouring upon. Fields we had all laboured upon so tirelessly. The hole stopped, at the last, just at our very feet. One wrong move, and we should have sunk down below with it. I gazed upon the great chasm the earth had now opened — had that child fallen, had any of us fallen into it, I was by no means certain we should have survived at all.

I breathed heavily, my chest heaving, my heart pounding so loudly I could scarce hear anything else. The child still clung to Duke Thorncrest, her small arms wrapped tight about his neck, her face buried against his shoulder as she sobbed.

Every soul about us made their way towards us, one woman running as fast as her legs and the treacherous earth might carry her, along the pathway not yet collapsed.

"Papa!" the girl cried.

Just then the man whose hands had been upon my shoulders released me. He had tears in his eyes, and Duke Thorncrest handed the child to him without a word.

The man gathered his daughter into his arms, holding her close, murmuring soothing words into her hair. She sobbed against him, her small body trembling, and he stroked her back with hands that shook visibly.

Then he bowed to Duke Thorncrest, and I daresay it was the first respectful, grateful bow we had received since our arrival in this town.

"Thank ye, m’lord," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Thank ye kindly."

Duke Thorncrest only inclined his head.

Then the man turned to me.

He bowed again, lower still.

"Thank ye, Yer Highness. Thank ye. I don’t know what I’d ’ave done if—" He stopped, unable to complete the thought.

"There i-is no need to th-thank me," I said. "I am only g-glad she is s-safe. And b-besides, you s-saved me too. I t-thank you for that."

The woman reached us then, and she too offered her thanks, tears streaming freely down her face. She embraced the child, and the man, and the three of them stood together, a family reunited.

And then, one by one, the townspeople began to offer their thanks.

"Thank ye, Yer Highness."

"Thank ye, m’lord."

"We’re in yer debt."

"N-no one is in o-our debt," I announced loudly. "F-for did we not help e-each other?"

There was a beat of silence, and then Jim spoke up, for he had been at the lower fields, some distance from where Lyria and the child had stood.

"That’ll be enough fer today."

Everyone turned towards him.

"We’ll stop the field work ’ere," he said. "Lest someone else falls inter a crack an’ gets ’urt."

There was a murmur of agreement, and then, slowly, the townspeople began making their way down the fields, gathering their tools, adults carrying children, men testing the ground before leading others down.

Duke Thorncrest kept hold of my arm as the others departed, his gaze fixed upon my face.

"Are you quite well, Your Highness?" he asked.

"I am w-well," I said, with a nod. "I am only g-glad the c-child came to no harm."

Duke Thorncrest’s expression tightened.

"I understand your care for others, Your Highness. Truly, I do. But I must observe that you must give some thought to your own wellbeing also."

"You very nearly suffered injury," he added. "Rather badly, I might say. Had the ground given way a moment sooner—"

"But it d-did not," I said. "I was n-nearest the c-child, Your Grace. A-and I w-would rather risk i-injury myself than see a c-child suffer it."

"I understand that well enough," he said, with a resigned sigh. "But I am concerned for you. I cannot even bear to consider what—"

He shook his head, cutting himself short.

"I moved as swiftly as I was able, Your Highness," he said. "I reached you with all the haste I could muster. But what should I have done, had I not been swift enough? Had you been injured? I cannot—" He paused, and exhaled slowly. "The very notion of it is enough to bring on an apoplexy."

I frowned.

I did not know that particular word, though I resolved to look into it later, grateful I had brought my books along.

"I thank you f-for your assistance, Your Grace," I said, calmly. "But r-rather than dwelling upon what m-might have come to pass, why not a-attend instead to what is? I am q-quite well, am I not? And the c-child is well a-also."

"But..."

"I am n-not hurt."

"Your Highness..."

"I am n-not hurt," I repeated. "And I c-confess I d-do not entirely u-understand why you feel t-this way, for again, I am q-quite well. Besides, to see th-that child injured should have w-wounded me far m-more deeply than any p-physical h-hurt of my own, Your Grace. I should n-never have forgiven m-myself, had she been h-harmed."

Duke Thorncrest was silent a moment, then sighed and shook his head.

"You are remarkably stubborn, upon certain occasions," he said.

I nodded, then paused. "I m-must ask — how did you m-manage to reach u-us so swiftly? Y-you were in the lower f-fields, and yet you r-reached us in what felt l-like mere m-moments."

Duke Thorncrest paused.

"I was already proceeding in your direction," he said. "Though I doubt you marked me. You were rather occupied in watching the child."

I nodded slowly, for this was true. I had indeed been entirely occupied with watching the child.

"Then I th-thank you once more," I said. "And m-might I s-suggest we m-make our way d-down, as the o-official i-instructed."

Duke Thorncrest nodded.

He released my arm, and together we began walking down the fields.

As I walked, I felt a pain in my side. I had not marked it before — not when I had first stood — but now, as I walked, I felt the sharp throbbing ache that seemed to radiate from somewhere beneath my ribs. My legs ached also, and there was a tenderness about my knees I had not before noticed.

But I did not let it show.

I kept my countenance composed, my steps steady, my breathing even. For I had no wish for another argument with His Grace, nor did I wish to betray any weakness before these townspeople.

It was easy enough that His Grace failed to notice — but the same could not be said of two others.

I felt their gazes upon me as I descended, and when I glanced towards the lower fields, I beheld them.

Lucian, who had once stood at the farthest edge of the lower fields, conversing with the townspeople, now occupied a different position entirely.

He remained yet at the lower fields, though at a considerable distance that should allow him to cross more readily towards the first of the middle fields. He wore a frown upon his face, his garments stained with mud, his eyes intense, and I marked that he breathed heavily, as though he had undertaken some considerable exertion, which made me wonder whether he truly had.

But the same could not be said of Duke Valenridge. He too stood at the lower fields, some distance from Lucian, though I observed that where he stood — two fields above, one which should lead to the first of the middle fields — had been entirely swallowed by the hole.

Yet Duke Valenridge’s countenance remained blank. He did not breathe heavily, as Lucian did, but his gaze was fixed upon me, and our eyes met as his own travelled towards my legs.

I ignored what his look signified, for he knew well enough I was injured. Instead, I feigned not to have seen him look at all, and turned away only to discover that Lucian had closed the distance between us, for he now stood directly before me.

"Take my hand, Your Highness," he said, his hand extended.

Duke Thorncrest, who had been lost in thought, frowned at once at Lucian.

"Pray, why should she take your hand?"

Lucian glanced at him.

"You truly have no eye for detail whatsoever, do you?"

Duke Thorncrest’s brows drew together.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Her Highness is hurt."

"I am n-not h-hurt," I said at once.

"Then why," Lucian asked, "are you limping?"