A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 2)

Nyfain looked up from above steepled fingers. Intense wariness flowed through the bond. He knew this wouldn’t be good. Amazingly, though, he wasn’t getting up to stop me.

Hadriel was nowhere to be seen. He’d probably stayed outside with the horses.

The council members turned or glanced my way.

I wasn’t sure how to start. Yell? Throw something? Try to overturn one of the couches they were sitting in? My rage begged for all of those things. My animal wanted violence to match my mood.

“Hello.” I put my hand up for Dabnye to stay by the door. She didn’t need to be a prop in this.

My boots thunked against the wood as I made my way to Nyfain. He watched me the whole way, not offering any emotion.

I stood next to him, where everyone could see me.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked.

“What is the meaning of this?” a middle-aged woman said in an outraged voice. Her fine dress said she had money, and her attitude said she was not used to being interrupted. The others were one and the same.

“I’ll take that as a no.” I braced my hand on the back of Nyfain’s chair, shaking because I was so angry. I tried to stay calm and give them a chance to do the right thing. “I am Finley from Lark Crest village.” A few narrowed their eyes, looking at Nyfain for the meaning of this outrage. My village clearly wasn’t looked upon favorably. “I am the creator of the nulling elixir.”

Surprise lit their faces. Delight.

“Oh, that potion is genius—”

“It has saved countless people—”

“We are so thankful—”

“Enough!” I barked, and power pulsed through the room. This time I knew the gasp was because I’d revealed my hand.

A few faces went slack.

Not much I could do about it now.

“I gave you that elixir in good faith. It was supposed to be distributed to the sickest among you. Why wasn’t it?”

“Well, it was,” the middle-aged woman from before said, her stupid hat propped high on her coiffed head. “We cured all the sickest we had, and it worked like a charm.”

I pointed to the door—I was doing an awful lot of pointing in this village. “The guy I just ran into out there was not the sickest in this village. Not even remotely. There are people on their deathbeds in the cheap section. You should’ve given it to them first.”

An older man with a pressed suit and a gray comb-over offered me a slick smile. “Ah, but you see, young lady, his highness gave us the…elixir in good faith, not you. And his highness knows that in our tithe we have a certain way of doing things. The villagers who offer the most to the village will receive it before those who offer the least.”

Rage boiled and bubbled. It coiled within me, a living thing.

Brain him, my animal said. Twist off his head and kick it around.

No. Physical violence won’t work here. They think with their pockets. They don’t like sharing.

“Fair enough,” I said, and I felt Nyfain’s surprise. “There are a couple of things you should know. First, the nulling elixir doesn’t work forever. It’s a patch. A good patch, but a patch nonetheless. It doesn’t cure. You will never stop needing it, and eventually they’ll die anyway. When they get close to death’s door, you’ll need it more often—stronger, if you can get it—with the best leaves available.”

Slick spread his hands. “We understand. We thank the prince for his generosity.”

“Second,” I said with a smile, “it isn’t his generosity. It is mine. And now that generosity will come at a cost. If you want more, or if you want instruction, you will pay for it. I’ll accept your coin or your trade on an as-needed basis.”

His expression froze. Everyone else’s eyes darted around. Smug pride rolled through the bond.

“You should also know this,” I continued. “I will be donating my time and services to those less fortunate. I will personally help them create and distribute the elixir, and I will be working with an experimental recipe for those on death’s door. I will do this for free until this council decides to create and distribute the nulling elixir as I have requested. If I hear that any of you have ventured into the poorer areas to take what they have made, or to interfere in any way, I will kill you.”

The room froze now, all eyes on me. They hadn’t heard threats like that before. Before long, their gazes drifted to Nyfain.

He dropped his hands to the arms of the chair. “I am declaring this demon-created sickness a kingdom-wide emergency. Internal village rents and taxes are to be frozen until such a time as we have rectified the issue. If that decree is ignored, I will withdraw the crown’s aid and leave you to succumb to the sickness.” He stood and placed his hand on the small of my back. “I back the royal healer’s efforts and stand by her decisions. I will be her broker if you decide to go that route.” He paused for a moment. “Stand,” he commanded, and power pulsed through the room.