A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 2)

A girl of about fifteen stood in the open doorway, a slip of a thing with baggy, dirt-stained clothes hanging off her bony frame. Her stringy hair dripped beside her sweat-lined, flushed face. She rested her hand on the doorway. Her arm trembled, but her head was high and shoulders squared. She was clearly terrified out of her mind.

“What in the hell…” Hadriel said under his breath, starting forward. “Hello,” he offered cordially, closing the distance between them. I followed like a little duckling. “How can I help you today? To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“You sound like a man who got his voice out of a can,” I whispered. “Act natural.”

“I don’t know what natural is for a butler!” he said in an undertone. “I’m used to acting like a gobshite to stay alive!”

“I’m looking for the prince,” the girl said with a tremor in her voice. “It’s my momma. She needs some of the potion that the prince has been dropping off.”

“Oh, thank the goddess for her tricky ways. You’re up, doll.” Hadriel motioned me on.

I stepped forward, pulling the girl’s focus from Hadriel. “We don’t have any more ready just yet. I’ll be drying the leaves tonight and making more starter elixir just as soon as I have all the ingredients. Does your village not have any extra leaves or elixir to share?”

Grief lined her face and bowed her spine. She held her shoulders rigid against the desire to reduce down into the fetal position. I knew, because I’d been there myself, countless times.

“They didn’t have enough for us. They are treating the village leaders first. Please, we have two everlass plants. Just tell me how to make it. I can make it.”

“Don’t you have the recipe? It has been passed out to all the villages…”

A line formed between her brow. She clearly didn’t know what I was talking about.

“Things seem to work much differently in your village than elsewhere,” Hadriel murmured, his hand on my arm. “Most of the villages have a very distinct class system.”

And she was definitely not high class.

Anger burned through me.

“I made that elixir for everyone, not for snobby cunts who think they are better than their peers.” I put a finger up to the girl. “Wait there. I’ll be back in a moment. I will personally see to your momma, okay? If she is alive when I get there, she’ll be alive when I leave. I will make sure of it.” I about-faced. “Hadriel, wake Nyfain. He’ll be taking me to this girl’s momma—and explaining how this was allowed to happen.”

“Yes, my darling. I am loving that idea, truly.” Hadriel ran to catch up as I took the stairs two at a time. “Except remember that bowel thing? It would be really unfortunate if I shit myself. It’s an issue. How about, instead, I go and get some horses saddled up and ready to go. Wouldn’t that be a better idea?”

I blew out a breath. “Fine. Where is Nyfain’s room?”

“All this time, and you still don’t know? A travesty.” Hadriel walked me along the second floor and pointed down a hall. He gave me directions before hurrying away.

I jogged now. It must’ve taken great courage for that girl to venture through the Forbidden Wood, even in the day, and approach the castle of the beast. While she might have known the beast was the prince, she’d probably also known the castle wasn’t a place where poor waifs would be welcomed. I knew all of that from experience. Her mother must be on her deathbed. I knew what that was like from experience as well.

Nyfain’s scent called to me, pulling me along. Intoxicating me. I wouldn’t have needed directions at this point. I took a left and two rights to a grand room with a wide double door beneath a great arch. Quite a difference from a one door, squat-ceilinged tower.

The door opened easily, and I wondered at him not locking it. Maybe, for all his blustering, he wasn’t pestered like the rest of us were. The things we learned…

The first room was similar to the queen’s, with private sitting and eating areas and wide glass doors leading out to a veranda. Through a door in the side, a great bed sprawled out on a little dais. I ignored the lavish furniture in the rest of the room and took the two steps to the royal bed, as it were. He lay in the middle on his stomach, his arms spread out wide and the covers pulled down around his hips. His muscular and inked back was on full display, the scars of his wings cutting down each side in horrible slashes.

“Hey.” I shook his shoulder, noticing a fresh flower on the little table by the window and his clothes set out near the dressing table. His door had been opened by a man’s maid, or whatever they called the prince’s servant, and that person had left it unlocked, clearly. “Hey!”