A Kingdom of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 3)

It was time to choose a path. Either I trusted Finley to come back and help us, or I pushed the issue and traded myself for the kingdom’s safety.

I wondered if holding out for her was even an option. I’d seen Dolion in a rage. He couldn’t kill me or break me, but he could do both to the people in my kingdom. He’d wiped out the whole court of dragons in a rage.

“Sir.” Urien, my valet, poked his head through the door opening. “Sir, the demons have come. They have the castle surrounded.”

“Get everyone inside and out of sight. Keep them to their rooms, if you can.”

“Yes, sir.” He paused. “Sir, I know you have plans, but…”

Although the staff knew Finley had escaped from the dungeon, I hadn’t shared anything else with them. They didn’t know she intended to come back. What Urien did know was that I intended to make a deal with Dolion. He probably thought the time had come.

Maybe it had.

“I’ve heard this through the staff quarters,” he said, “and within the halls—we hope to fight, sir.”

I tilted my head. “What’s that?”

“We hope to fight. Hadriel—the strange little butler stand-in—made it clear that he and Leala would be back with Finley. We wish to wait for them, and to fight.”

I thought about clearing the air, but another part of me wanted to give my people a way out. They weren’t warriors. None of them were in a position to fight off a demon horde. They had courage, but I didn’t want them to die for nothing. If the worst-case scenario came and I’d need to make the ultimate sacrifice, I didn’t want a lot of people to lose their lives beforehand.

“They’ve moved on,” I told him, not actually believing it. “If they had wanted to come back, they would be here now.”

“Well, sir,” he said, “Hadriel fancied himself a strategist. He was the best chess player in the castle, even before…all of this. And it is widely held that Finley wouldn’t leave us forever. They think she’ll be back, and they wish to wait.”

Even though my father had put them through hell they didn’t want to see me sacrifice myself. They wanted to fight with me, for me.

I couldn’t help my heart swelling at their continued allegiance, after all these years of torture. My people didn’t deserve this.

I watched through the window as the demons advanced. What I wouldn’t give for my wings and my court. What I wouldn’t give to take Dolion and his kingdom on. To teach them what it meant to stand against dragons.

“I’ll stay to my room this evening and let Dolion…wander, as he does. Send dinner.”

“Yes, sir.”

I watched for a while longer, rage burning brightly. My dragon did the equivalent of pacing within me, desperate to fight, to get out of his skin cage.

I locked the tower room behind me and took the stairs down.

“Sir.” Jessab, the cook, waited on the third-floor landing. He made a fist. “She will be back soon, sir. Her sister says so. We will fight.” He shook his fist.

I furrowed my brow at him, wondering when he might’ve spoken to her sister.

Down the next stairs I went, only to find more servants shaking their fists on the next landing. Anger lit their eyes.

“I’ll fight.”

“We’ll fight.”

“Wait for her, and we’ll fight.”

“I will fight.” Eliza, the plump and lovely seamstress, shook her fist. Her face turned red, and spittle flew from her mouth. “I will kill!”

Great goddess, my dragon thought. I didn’t know she had it in her.

I spied a group of people standing in a cluster, nodding and fisting their hands.

“The demons are coming. Get to your rooms,” I barked as I passed by, power swirling around me.

They straightened, one and all, looking back with wide eyes before scattering through the hall. A girl was left on her own with a spattering of freckles across her fair features. At fourteen, she was all knees and elbows, thinner than she probably should be, but her face wore a hard, determined expression.

“Sable?” I asked, taken aback. It was Finley’s sister. Here, in the castle, as the demons advanced on us. “Sable, damn it!”

I lurched forward and grabbed her, running her up the stairs and to the tower before she could squawk an objection. I fumbled with the key, thrust open the door, and quickly dropped her to the bed. I shut the door behind me, my heart racing and sweat coating my brow.

“Sable, what are you doing here?” I demanded.

She screwed up her face and crawled off the bed, anger showing clearly in her movements. “No you don’t! You are not going to lock me in the tower like you did my sister. I heard the whole story. Even if I were your age, you would not be my type. I expect a little rationality from my men.”