Libelle

32 | A Search

The lark settled on the cobblestones, cocking its head to one side as it hopped in erratic patterns. Confused. It was confused. Eliott disembarked from his horse and knelt beside the bird.

"What's wrong?" he whispered as though it could hear him, understand him, and reply in eloquence to him. "She's not here?"

They had been looking well into the night. Around him, the town was aroused by the uproar of torches and metallic steps roaming around the streets. Eliott had foregone thinking of sleep and disturbed the whole army, bringing them into the heart of Rosewall and even scattering them to neighboring towns like Aldermere, Londvore, and Demontre.

No one had found Edge. Even the carriage her abductors had used couldn't be found. If the reports about a fire breaking out in the alleys of Aldermere could be trusted, it seemed like they already burned the evidence. Whoever planned this had a good head on their shoulders. Not a detail out of place and all the clues planted were either there to mislead or tell a blatant lie.

It couldn't be one of the thieving guilds Eliott have known to run around these streets. The King had been cracking down on them for the last ten years. Rosewall has worked hard to make their kingdom free of charlatans. Of course, it didn't occur to Eliott that there had been ones inside the palace all this time.

He looked down at the mistlark bobbing by his feet. It was still searching for Edge's traces but seeing as it stopped here, she might have been in this place. That, or her scent was somehow planted here to throw them off further.

Eliott gritted his teeth. Geoffer had suggested the abductors' plan was to take Edge and use her as ransom for something later on. They would make her untraceable now to force Eliott to give up and listen to their demands. "They will be hitting two larks with one stone with this plan," the affairs manager said, clearly forgetting the fact Eliott loved larks to a fault. "If we don't find her, they could just dispose of her. That way, they would stand to never have a fae as queen."

The way the manager said it before drove a pike of understanding in Eliott's head. Of course, this whole thing was because of that. Humans didn't like the idea of a fae rising above them. It would set a precedent to all the slaves and servants they owned. It would strengthen fae morale. If fae would mount an uprising, then Rosewall could very well fall.

So...was this staged by the common people or by the noble class? The former proved to be more implausible considering movements like this needed funds. It's rare to make people move just by morals alone. There's got to be money involved in this. Tons of it, in fact.

Only the noble class had enough time and resources to devise things like this. Was it from the duchies, then? The marches? The counties? There were too many people that might have played a hand in this. Eliott was just one man and Edge, one woman. Unless...

His eyes widened when he spotted something fluttering a few steps away. A stray breeze blew too low and upturned something soft and long. In the darkness of the night, it was almost the same color as the cobblestones. He lunged forward, almost stepping on the poor lark. Its squeaks as it swerved out of the way blurred in his ears.

When he knelt next to the object, he realized what it was. A feather. From Edge's own wings. He glanced at the lark chirping behind him. That's why it led him here. Edge was here. Or she had been. He turned the feather against the dim moonlight, noting how ragged the stem had been. If this had fallen naturally, it would have a longer and wholler stem. This one...it looked like it was yanked with force. It would have hurt.

Did the abductors do that? Did they hurt Edge? He knitted his eyebrows. The necklace. Hadn't he found it a few streets from here? The fake clues were planted quite a few distances from each other, only meant to keep pursuers chasing them forever. The necklace and the feather couldn't have been a mile away from each other. Which meant one thing.

Edge was the one who planted these. She was telling him something. Had she sensed the danger she was in even before she was forced out of the palace? That made sense. If that's the case, then...

Had she known who was responsible for this too? Was that what she was trying to say?

"Your Grace," Sir Geoffer called behind him. "The knights from the eastern checkpoint reported nothing of significance for the past half an hour. Shall we call this off and start again tomorrow?"

Eliott shot up and shoved the feather into Geoffer's chest. "That's from Edge," he said. "Don't you dare give up now."

Geoffer glanced at the lark still not leaving Eliott's side. He knew better than to question the prince's eccentric methods. "This is the Lancet Region," the manager noted, glancing once at the white-washed buildings and bland facades. "It's known for its abundance of midnight gangs and hunter circles. It's not safe here, Your Grace."

Midnight gangs. Eliott chewed on his lip, his thoughts roiling in his head. They were known for their exorbitant prices should they be hired. Just like their name, they weren't fond of working in broad daylight, preferring to use the cloak of the night to carry out their operations. If they were forced to abduct Edge in the middle of the day, they must have been given to do so. And what was a better motivator than money?

It's definitely the nobles, then. But...who? Who had enough animosity against the fae to have gone over the cliff like this? Then, it clicked.

Maybe it was personal. None of the servants in the castle was harmed. It couldn't have been an uprising against the crown. The abductors were given specific instructions to infiltrate the palace and not stage a direct attack against it. The crown was not their goal. Rather, their target seemed to just be Edge. Or...

It was Eliott.

And if that's the case, then he might have just narrowed down the list further. Towards a select few who sat in seats called the Lezeris Court. Not strangely enough, one face popped into his head. It belonged to the person who had been the most vocal against Eliott's recent rulings.

That vile worm. He's going to pay for this. They're all going to.

"Get me a list of all the estates owned by the members of the Court," Eliott ordered, pushing past Geoffer. "Mark them on the map, including the ones bought in the shadows."

He glanced at his affairs manager who had been the most helpful ally he had ever come across since childhood. "I know who's behind all of this," he told Sir Geoffer. "Let's go and deliver the wrath of the gods."