But that had always been the case, and Nyfain had done his duty anyway.
I remembered what he’d said the other night when the poison was taking hold.
“The last sixteen years have been misery. Each day has been worse than the last. I am so tired, Finley. I am so tired of this nightmare that never seems to end.”
Fear lodged in my middle, blotting out reason.
He’d left here half healed. He’d ventured into the wood in a weak state at night, when the demons would be prowling. He hadn’t a hope of defeating all of them in the state he was in.
But that hadn’t mattered to him. He was a man of duty, late to the game, maybe, but now the only fierce defender of the kingdom. He’d try to clear the wood even in the state he was in. I knew he’d go out and die fighting, if that was his fate, and the curse would die with him. When it did, he’d expect me to make a deal with the demon king for my family and village. For my kingdom, if possible.
Didn’t he know that was madness? I would never have let him put himself in jeopardy like this without trying to help—
And that was why he’d drugged me. Because he knew that I’d follow and try to help him. We’d always had our differences, and half the time he’d annoyed the shit out of me, but that didn’t matter when it came to helping people. He knew I would go down with him if it came to it. And he clearly would not suffer putting me in harm’s way.
Well, fuck that. I was not some delicate flower, and this time he’d gone too far.
I ran into my room, changed, grabbed my trusty pocketknife, an older dagger that would have to do, and ran out the front door. If he wanted me to play hero, I would.
And I’d make him my damsel.