A Queen of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 4)

I leaned back, knowing this was in the past, but scared for her all the same. I could only imagine what a guy like the king would do if he found out that another man had done what he could not.

“And did the commander know?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. I breathed not a word of it to anyone. His mark was not on me, so he didn’t display the possessiveness many dragons would, but if he’d known I carried his offspring…”

A blast of power pumped from Nyfain, and he pulled his hand from my thigh to settle it around my shoulders. It didn’t have to be said that he’d bring possessiveness to a new level if I got pregnant.

She nodded. “So I kept it to myself and enjoyed the months that followed. The king, warned by the midwives that I was in delicate condition, kept away from me lest he lose his temper and hurt me. Lest he lose the baby, basically. Because even if he knew it probably wasn’t his, the child would still be born with his name. He was hoping for the powerful heir he’d dreamt of. It was the reason he’d sought me out, after all. He’d put his hope in my bloodline.”

“Did you continue to see the commander?” I asked, caught up in the story despite myself.

“Yes, when I could. He delighted in watching my belly grow and feeling the baby move inside of it, and continuing to…”

“Bang?” I supplied, forgetting to mind myself.

She ignored me entirely this time. “We were very careful, of course, helped by my most trusted ladies-in-waiting. Dee in particular. She watched over me like a mother hen. And when the baby was born, it was a dream come true. I loved my son immediately, of course.” Her eyes shone as she looked at Nyfain. “He was perfection, from his tiny fingers and toes to his cute little scrunched-up face when he wailed for that first time, strong and angry, even then.”

I rubbed Nyfain’s thigh.

“And the king…well, he got his heir. He gave me the space to raise you, to nurture you. He couldn’t be bothered with children, so he allowed you to spend your days with us, working the plants, and run free in the wood and play. It wasn’t until you were entering your teens, when you got your first growth spurt, that it became clear you had great potential. That’s when he started to…take you in hand, as he called it. As you advanced in age and power and stature, he took more of an interest. I don’t have to fill you in on the rest.”

I remembered from Nyfain that “the rest” wasn’t pretty. Beatings, harsh treatment, unkind words and actions, days locked in the tower… It hadn’t been an easy childhood for him once his father—or the king, I guessed—stepped in.

His emotions boiled within him, now seasoned with more anger. Maybe he was wondering if he would’ve been spared the ill treatment had he been declared someone else’s. Or maybe if his real father had stepped in and saved him.

I put my hand to his side in comfort and asked the queen a question to help move things along.

“And all that time, his real father had no clue?” I asked.

Her countenance fell. “He wasn’t alive to see Nyfain reach his teens. Even when Nyfain was a baby, he was the spitting image of his father. No one noticed at first. They’d look between me and the king and squint and say, ‘Who is he like, then?’ I’d say the king, of course, which pleased the king, but my unease grew. By the time Nyfain was five…it was painfully clear. People were starting to notice the similarities. The commander was starting to notice. He didn’t say anything—he was more the strong and silent type—but I could see him studying Nyfain. His possessiveness was starting to grow as well. His need to be near me, near his son, was increasing.

“When Nyfain was six, just after his birthday, the king summoned his caregiver for an examination. Afterward, the king confronted me. Cornered me. Whatever he heard must’ve made him realize Nyfain wasn’t his. I was intent on denying it, but Ta—the commander burst into the room and tossed the king away like he was a doll. The commander took his place in front of me, shielding me, and told the king that if he touched me or his son again, he’d kill the king, repercussions be damned.”

“He must’ve overheard the king and put two and two together,” I said.

Tears again trailed down Arleth’s cheeks. “It would seem so, yes. He was the king’s right-hand-man, so to speak. The wolves would have called him a beta. He was with the king often.”

“What did the king do?”

“He killed him,” Nyfain said. “Taerhael, that’s who you’re speaking of, isn’t it? I barely remember him, but I know he was killed for treason.”