I had no idea what to make of Xanthus in the lower field. Had Ryker turned him loose to enjoy himself while he was away somewhere? Was Ryker in the castle?
Ultimately, it didn’t matter; I had to return to the manor and devise another way to contact Ryker. And I had to do it soon as they’d had my mother locked away forfivedays.
Scarlet’s father emerged from the greenhouse when I arrived at the manor. Sadness crept over his handsome features as he strode across the yard toward me. The sun glinted off his bright red hair, something his son and daughter inherited from him.
Tall and lean, Fletcher Willson was born on this property. Before he took over, his father managed the property until his death.
When Fletcher met his wife, he brought her here to live, and they settled into one of the smaller cottages. After a rogue lycan killed his father and mother, Fletcher moved into the larger property manager’s home and still resided there with his family.
The lycan attack happened before I was born, but my father had told me it was a bleak time in the manor’s history as well as in the realm. The lycan slaughtered nearly fifty amsirah before it was killed.
The crazed wolf had lost its mate and probably didn’t know what it was doing as it unleashed its despair on the land. However, it still had to be destroyed.
Fletcher Willson had worked on the manor for over a century and loved this place as much as I did—I could tell by the tired slope of his shoulders, dirty clothes, and hands that he’d been working harder than ever to keep the place running.
Guilt tugged at me as he stopped in front of me. I’d been so consumed with saving my mother that I hadn’t stopped to think about the manor or the immortals I’d left behind to ensure it didn’t go to ruin.
“Ellery,” he greeted.
“Mr. Fletcher.”
The corner of his mouth twitched toward a smile and his brown eyes, so similar to Scarlet’s, twinkled before the light faded from them again. By all rights, he should be calling me milady, Miss Marian, or Miss Ellery as all the other workers who once toiled here had.
It was also the custom of all the other manors in the realm, but since I’d run in and out of his house since Scarlet and I could walk, it didn’t feel fitting to have him do so. As I got older, he told me to call him Fletcher, but it never felt right.
He was a good, kind man who’d yelled at me when I did things wrong, chased Scarlet and me with a broom more times than I could count, and tended to numerous scrapes and bruises. When I was a child, he’d always been Mr. Fletcher to me and would remain so.
“Any word on your mother?” he asked.
“I haven’t visited the palace to speak with them about her. I’ve been trying to find help but haven’t succeeded.” My voice broke, and I swallowed the lump in it before continuing. “And while I’m failing, she’s sitting in a cell.”
He rested his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. “We’re going to get her back.”
I wanted to believe him, but I didn’t know how when I was quickly running out of options. There was someone who might know where Ryker was, or at least how to get in touch with him, and I would go to speak with him as soon as I showered and changed. If that failed, I didn’t know what I would do.
I should go now, as I doubted Tucker cared what I smelled and looked like, butIcouldn’t stand the stench of myself anymore. If I could, I’d also sleep, as I was exhausted and hungry.
I’d been so concerned I’d miss Ryker coming home or leaving the castle that I’d barely slept in the woods. I’d love to lie down and sleep the rest of the day away, if not the rest of the month, but that wasn’t possible.
“I’m failing her,” I whispered.
“You’re doing the best you can, Ellery. This isn’t your fault.”
Tears stung my eyes. “But it is.”
“No. It’s. Not. This is the fault of greedy, vicious, vindictive men; it isn’t yours.”
“The duke?—”
“I understand about the duke; that still doesn’t make this your fault.”
I blinked away the tears rapidly forming in my eyes as I resisted throwing my arms around him and crying. While he’d always been like an uncle to me, we weren’t on hugging terms.
Plus, if I started crying now, I’d never stop, and I didn’t have time for that. However, even if I didn’t deserve it, his understanding meant more to me than he’d ever know.
I probably wouldn’t get that understanding if he knew I was the Hooded Robber and his daughter had helped me with it, but I couldn’t feel any more guilty than I already did. If I saved my mother, I could work on hating myself for that too, but not today.
“How are things here?” I croaked out.
