A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 2)
“I’m good,” I said, looking around. “But I need…”
“Say no more.” Hadriel stood and raised his hand. “I’ll run and get Leala. She’ll handle the details.” He peered at me intensely for another long beat.
I lifted my eyebrows.
“Right. Just…” His salute turned into a raised finger. “Just getting the lay of the land. So you…aren’t relieved, as such…”
“Hadriel, get out. Seriously. It’s just a period. I have many.”
“Right. It’s just that, you know, you hated the guy when you first came, but now you seem pretty fond of him, and he’s almost palatable now—” He lifted both hands, clearly reading the murder in my expression. “I’ll just go get Leala. Sit tight. There are rags coming, my love.”
An hour later, I hacked at the roses like a woman possessed. Slashes of red covered my arms, and a few gashes lined my face, but I refused to yield. The work was a distraction from thinking about Nyfain. Because I’d have to tell him the news.
Not that it should matter. He’d been living a pleasant fantasy, too. If I’d actually been pregnant, he would’ve lost it. He would’ve been pissed about the timing, about my fragility in the face of what he wanted for me, about having a child when locked in a curse…
Still, fantasy or no, I would have to be the bearer of bad news.
Part of me feared he’d only allowed me so close so he could watch over things. If maybe his desire for a child, an heir, had overshadowed the person actually carrying the child. I wondered if, when he found out I wasn’t pregnant, he’d want things to go back to the way they were, where we fought our attraction and mostly kept to ourselves.
The fear of it hurt the worst, because it wasn’t a baby daddy or a prince I craved. It was Nyfain the man. The brooding asshole whose mood could turn in a moment. Who could silence a room just by walking in and scare the house staff with a look. Who went out of his way to make things easier for me. Who backed my decisions, allowed me to be who I was, and would give his life to save mine. The fighter, the protector, the reader, the lover.
Shit.
I was so fucked. This whole situation had gotten so fucked.
“Finley.”
His rough voice washed over me. Terror of what came next fought with the pleasure of his presence.
The insane thought of not telling him rolled through my head for the umpteenth time since I’d found out.
Pulling the pruning shears out of the bush, I wiped my cheek with the back of my arm. I’d probably just wiped blood on my face, too.
Time to face the music.
The dragon will just want to try again, my animal said.
No. It wasn’t a good idea then, and it isn’t a good idea now. His dragon might be dreamy, but I don’t want to play these games. He probably won’t want me after this, anyway. I’m a common girl. Enough said.
Goddess on a spit, when did you get so unbearably chatty?
I rolled my eyes and turned, finding Nyfain on the patio in his worn jeans and white T-shirt. His hands dangled at his sides. Usually he’d venture into the garden and ask about the day’s labors. We’d then leave out the side where the guys had painstakingly beat a hole in the brick wall. It was correctly thought that they (we) shouldn’t be traipsing through the queen’s chambers every day. Today, though, he remained on the patio.
The other men had all noticed the change. Gyril gave me a sideways look but stayed bent over his shovel. Jawson curled his lips, making a show of being focused on planting bright and cheerful flowers that did not fit the current mood. Hadriel stared at me with a flat expression, his back to Nyfain.
“What’s up?” I asked, staying put.
“I’d like to speak with you.”
I scowled at Hadriel.
He extended his hands in front of him, putting up his palms. He mouthed, “I only told Leala.”
Leala had needed to get the supplies, though, and women in the castle didn’t have periods. Not since the curse. They were all frozen in time. The need for such items would be noticed, and everyone would understand they were for me. Rumors would spread, and Nyfain’s valet would naturally hear them. He’d know what they meant.
I didn’t have to be the bearer of bad news after all. I’d just have to deal with the fallout.
“Yeah, sure.” I took a moment to tuck my tools into their canvas pockets in the gardening bucket before crossing the dirt with a straight back. He waited for me to pass him, and I couldn’t help inhaling his intoxicating scent. Why did it have to be the best damn smell that had ever come across my nose? It wasn’t fair.