A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales – B&tB Book 2)

The next couple weeks passed in a blur. I was supposed to get access to the library, Hadriel kept prodding me to get me into the seamstresses to try things on, and I wanted to find the dancing instructor to see if I remembered any moves. But reports from the villages had come in by way of Nyfain, and they were crying out for more nulling elixir.

The elixir had worked, as I’d known it would, but their everlass plants hadn’t been maintained and their ability to make more elixir was apparently nonexistent. They weren’t getting it done. We would need to pick up the slack until Nyfain and I could help them with their plants and I could physically show them how to make the elixir, all without the demons being the wiser.

The draught to cut out the reaction to the demons’ magic was also in high demand, both within the castle and in the villages. It gave people the clarity they’d been missing, and it made a casual stroll after dark less treacherous. And then there was my coffee substitute. I just didn’t have enough hours in the day to make it a priority, and thankfully Hadriel was fine being a stingy bastard, so I just made enough for those closest to me. It wasn’t a healing elixir, after all, so I could stomach not sharing.

From what I could see out my window, the garden was coming along nicely. They were still ripping out things that didn’t belong. I hadn’t been able to get in there and work in person, though. I hadn’t had the time. Hopefully soon.

Each day passed in a rush of everlass leaves and other ingredients. There just wasn’t enough daylight to learn a new hobby or put in a proper inspection of the library. Nyfain made sure books were delivered to me, and I was satisfied to relax in my room after the tough day to eat, bathe, read, and sleep.

Poor Nyfain had been doing double duty. Maybe even triple duty. He would work with me during the day before heading out to the wood at night.

He was soon making the elixir like a champ. Mixing the draught like he’d been doing it all his life. He also hunted for meat to deliver to my family in stealth since I couldn’t. The exhaustion was starting to show on him. Dark circles had developed under his eyes, and his shoulders drooped.

Finally, one day, I snapped.

“Get out.” I pointed at the illuminated door in the work shed. The midmorning sun shone strong and warm, hinting at spring right around the corner.

Nyfain stopped in the doorway. “What?”

“Get out. You’re exhausted, Nyfain. Go to sleep.”

He shook his head and started forward again. “Three people were expected to die this last week in one of the villages. Because of your elixir, they are hanging on. This is important, what we’re doing.”

“I know. But they need you in that wood. I can handle this. You handle that.”

He stalled at the end of the table. “I can do both, Finley. Finally I feel like I’m doing some real good. I see hope flashing in people’s eyes. Just wait until you make the other elixir for them.”

“I get that, Nyfain. I do. But a body needs sleep. Go to bed. I’ll see you in the afternoon.”

His jaw set stubbornly. “I’m good.”

I straightened up and squared off with him. “Go to bed,” I growled. Power whipped through the shed. My animal turned over within me and stirred.

His muscles flared. He swayed a little, his eyes hard. I pulled more power, my animal pumping it out for me.

“Now,” I said in a firm voice.

He took a step back that he clearly didn’t want to, judging by the jerkiness of his movements. Humor filled the bond.

“As you command,” he finally said, turning for the door. “And Finley?” He stopped and glanced back. “Please join me this evening before I leave. I’d like to show you the library. You’ve been reading, and I have not. I miss it.”

I pushed the hair out of my face. “Okay.”

“And get those clothes sorted out. We need to get the villages up to speed so you can do…other things.”

I frowned at him, but he left.

What other things?

By late afternoon, I’d made all the elixir starter, as I was calling it, that I could with the leaves we’d dried and harvested. We’d need to harvest more. The problem was, because I wasn’t directly seeing the effects of the elixir, I had no idea if the one harvested at dawn worked any better than the usual. Though I supposed it didn’t matter. It was the crowded plant that would provide the cure, if there was one. The slight difference in potency of the drying times wouldn’t make enough difference to matter.

I walked to the wall around the queen’s garden and hopped up. I knew how to get there through the castle, and Nyfain had given me a key to access the room, but I was dirty and tired and didn’t want to go through the trouble of traipsing through the castle when it was faster to reach it from outside.

At the top of the wall, I paused before walking around the side. A crew of three were working diligently, Hadriel the only one I recognized. The blackberry bushes were long gone, the vines and brambles had been cleared away, and now they were weeding and tilling the ground.

“Wow, you guys.” I jumped down, marveling at the transformation. “This is great!”

Hadriel looked up from his patch of tilled dirt, his face red and sweat streaming down his temples. “I haven’t worked this hard in…” He puckered his lips in thought.

“That’s the reason you’re still alive,” a grizzled older man said. White whiskers hung down the sides of his brown, wrinkled face. He wore a faded denim shirt and dirt-stained trousers.

“This coming from the only gardener still going, Jawson?” Hadriel drawled. “I wonder how we can possibly explain that? Mediocrity, maybe? Hmm…” He tapped his chin in a pantomime of deep thought.

“Because I know how to keep my head down, that’s why. I don’t parade around the castle in nothing but a fancy thong screaming about goddess knows what.”

“Ah, you noticed how fancy my thongs are.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Caught you looking…”

“I never did see a butler who does so little butlerin’,” a ruddy-faced man said. He wore a wide sun hat punched through with holes in the bill. I wasn’t quite sure what the point of it was. “We’re gettin’ real close, miss.” He straightened up with a wince and put a hand to his hip. He didn’t look a day over thirty-five, but he stood like he was eighty years old, stooped a little, somewhat crooked.

“That’s Gyril, the horse master.” Hadriel hooked a thumb the man’s way. “He’s gotten thrown a few times. No one wonders why he’s still alive.”

“The horses are all spooked about the curse, that’s all.”

“What were they before the curse, then?”

“Awful cunts,” Gyril grumbled.

I hazarded a guess that he hadn’t been the horse master before the curse. He’d probably stepped into the role because everyone else was gone. That seemed to be the situation around here.

I wandered around, getting a feel for the space. The rosebushes lining the back were still wild, big, thick bushes with shoots every which way. All the other flowers and plants had long since died.

“I have a map of what it looked like back before the queen died,” Jawson said, leaning on his shovel. “Don’t know if that would be any help to ya.”

“It would, actually, thanks. What do we do for seeds and things around here?”

“I have a store of seeds up at the shed. The master can get some starter plants from the wood or the other villages if you need those,” Jawson answered. “We don’t have a nursery anymore. Everything kinda fell apart when the curse came and the king died.”

That was understandable. I nodded, turning toward the queen’s quarters.

“Wait, love.” Hadriel followed me.

“You should call her miss, milady, or Miss Finley,” Gyril said.

“You should learn not to stand behind temperamental horses and scratch your nuts. Besides, you don’t know what we’ve been through. We’re on friendship terms now.”

“We know what she goes through every day having to deal with you,” Jawson said. “It’s enough to drive someone to drink.”

“Nice working with you peckers,” Hadriel called out over his shoulder.

“Lick rust,” Gyril yelled back.

Hadriel and I walked through the glass doors into the cool room. The enchanted rosebush continued to wither in the middle of the floor, only two buds still in bloom and one branch moderately healthy. The kingdom was in bad shape.

“Great guys,” Hadriel said as I peered down at the dome for a moment. “They had a soft spot for the queen. We all did, but they volunteered to help bring the garden back. It’s nice, actually.” He held out his hands, the dirt crusted on his fingers and ground into his palms. “I’ve never gardened before, but it’s much better than watercolors or half of that other crap people around here are into.”

“Well, there is still a lot of work to be done, so I appreciate the help.”

He nodded as I made for the exit, intent on heading to my room to change. I wanted to get down to the library finally and take a nice, long look around.

“We need to visit the seamstresses,” Hadriel said. “You are in dire need of clothes.”

I groaned. “They already took my sizes.”

“Yes, lovely, and now they have to fit you. You’re long overdue. The master requested we get a move on. You can’t go waltzing into the most influential villages wearing…that. If you do, it won’t matter that you’re on the prince’s arm—they won’t take you seriously.”

“Does Nyfain put on fancy clothes?”

“No. He doesn’t need to. He’s the prince. You, however, are a nobody. As far as they are concerned, anyway.” He put his hand out flat, his pinky pressing against my arm. “You knew he was the prince, right? You’ve figured that out? I can’t remember what stop we’re on in the drama train. I’m no good at secrets. They give me indigestion.”

“I know that, yes. And yes, they will take me seriously. Healing a loved one tends to open people’s minds.”

“Yes, sure, but when the master isn’t looking, they’ll treat you like garbage. Wear something nice and wow them. They won’t even notice your surly ‘fuck off or I’ll cut you’ attitude. They are very shallow, those people. Back in the day, the nobles were the worst. Always walking around with their noses stuck in the air. Arrogant bastards. They thought that they were the prizes of the kingdom because they were dragons.”

“They were, though.”

“Yeah, but hello? Maybe a little humility? Anyway, let’s get washed up, and we’ll visit the seamstresses. I’ll go find Leala.”

“I can wash myself. I don’t need to bother her.”

“Sweetie, you need to let her do her job. She loves it. She’s one of the few people left who likes to work. Let her help you. It has put a hop in her step and a smile on her face.”

I sighed. “Fine. Tell her to hurry up. Nyfain is finally showing me the library, and I want all the time I can get in it.”

Hadriel took off at a run, the first time I’d ever seen him hurry this much. Up in my room, I’d barely gotten undressed before Leala bustled in with a pleasant smile.

“Hello, milady, how was working the everlass? Did you get it all done?” She stood behind me and helped get me out of the very intense binding.

“Yes. Done for now. Demon draught is done, too. I’ll probably help with the garden until we can harvest some more.”

“Oh yes, the garden.” She gestured me into the washroom and poured a bowl of warm water for quick washing. On the way, she stopped at the windows and looked down. “It really is coming along. I remember the queen’s garden back in the day. It was beautiful. Those roses are really overgrown. Will you be able to tame them, or will you need to pull them out and replace them?”

“Just prune them way back in a way that allows for new growth. Like a haircut. The only way to tame them is to strip the thorns from their flowers and decorate your table with them. I wouldn’t dream of it. Decorating a table is a job for daisies or tulips or something. I’ll keep the roses outside and wild.”

“I think the master would be happy to hear it.”

I knew he would. The roses reminded him of his mother, and I wanted him to view them with fondness. With pride. I was positive I could make that happen—I just needed tools and time.

After dressing me in a plain, flowing dress with no shape and no undergarments, Leala led me out of the room.

“I was told to escort you down to the seamstresses. They’ll have undergarments ready for you. You can stop using mine.”

She meant that I could stop ruining hers. Nyfain wasn’t kind on panties.

“They’re excited to unveil their work for you,” she added, her words sending a shock through me.

“I’m just a commoner from a poor village.”

“Every great person started somewhere, milady. Just because you grew up common doesn’t mean you need to dress common. You’ll be going onto the battlefield soon—the social battlefield—and you’ll need your armor.”

We first visited Eliza, the good-natured seamstress who smiled and cooed about all the wonderful working attire she’d made. There was not a single dress in sight. Instead, she’d made formfitting trousers with a little stretch to them and blouses that cinched at the waist but gave ample room around my bosom. They fit like a dream, and I could move with ease in them.

I absolutely loved them all! They were feminine while still being tough, pretty but usable and durable. The material was as fine as I’d ever seen, soft and supple on my skin, and decorated with lovely, flattering designs—flowers along the sleeves, vines twining along the seam. The binding around my breasts was tight but still flattering, and a sort of wire had been sewn in so I had two boobs and not one flattened uni-boob across my chest.

Hadriel and Leala both agreed that Eliza had outdone herself, and she’d better keep a very low profile for a while or her expertise might get her noticed by the demons and killed.

While we were on the way to the seamster, something occurred to me.

“That tower used to be Nyfain’s retreat, right?” I said, noticing the light starting to dim through the arched windows overlooking the grounds. Hadriel and Leala nodded. “Well, whose dresses were those, then? They were too small in the waist and shoulder to be something Nyfain played dress-up in.”

Hadriel and Leala exchanged a look, and I got a weird pang in my chest.

“Spill it,” I said.

“Those were his ex-fiancée’s dresses,” Leala said. “He had the dresses made to her measurements because he was planning to bring her home to meet the king and queen. He wanted to surprise her, I guess. But the queen died before the trip, and so he had to rush home for the funeral. The fiancée—”

“Ex-fiancée,” Hadriel corrected her.

“Right, the ex-fiancée was supposed to follow, but then…the curse.”

The breath went out of me. It felt like a horse had kicked me in the sternum and I should be walking crooked like Gyril. I’d known Nyfain had wanted to marry for love. I’d conveniently forgotten about his probably having a fiancée before the curse.

My eyes stung with unshed tears. I blinked profusely to keep them at bay. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What’s that, milady?” Leala asked softly.

I shook my head. I didn’t really want to talk about it, although that didn’t keep my brain from thinking about it.

Of course he didn’t want to have sex with me. He was already promised to another. A non-shifter, which was why his dragon was leaning my way. But Nyfain’s heart was probably still with her, and I was playing hell on his self-control because he’d been abstinent for sixteen years.

I felt like such an asshole. I’d been goading him on. Our animals had done the same. We’d been preying on a guy who was clearly losing hope. All that “I’ll ruin you” stuff made so much more sense now. Goddess forbid I fall for him, only for him to rip my heart out by leaving me for another woman the moment the curse ended (if it ended). That would kill me. I knew we couldn’t be together in the long term—he was a prince—but I didn’t want to see him move on so soon. That had already happened with my ex, and it wasn’t fun.

“This situation is so fucked up,” I said, lost to my thoughts as we entered the chaos of the seamster’s workroom.

“Well, it is about time you showed up,” Cecil said. His apron hung down his front, not tied, smeared with various stains and stuck through with needles. How he got stains from working with fabric, I did not know. “I have been waiting for you for ages.”

He stepped to the side, blocking me from walking past him.

“Uh-oh, you’re sad. No, this will not work for my designs. Get happy, immediately.”

“You can’t tell a woman to just change her emotions in a moment.” Leala took my arm. Gently she said, “Come on, milady. And don’t fret about the master. He’s never mentioned her since the curse. Not once.”

“Who?” Cecil put his closed fist on his hip, the measuring tape sticking out on either side. “Who has done this to her?”

“It’s fine.” I waved them away. “I just didn’t know they’d been engaged, that’s all.”

“Finley, love, no.” Hadriel rubbed my back, stepping in the way of an inquisitive Cecil. “It was nothing. Truly.”

“You don’t propose to someone if it was nothing.” I rolled my eyes. “But it’s fine. It doesn’t matter. He was always going to marry a princess or a noble or a queen or something. I’ve always known that.”

“Oh, you’re carrying on about that plain faerie lady I made all those dresses for, eh? Is that what this is about? Bah!” Cecil batted at the air. “What was he doing with a faerie, anyway? I’ll never know. Especially one who tried to cover up her plainness with hideous dresses. I saw the pictures. My eyes bled making those dresses. They bled. I had to take breaks just so I could see again, they were so clouded by the terrible designs.”

“Okay, overdramatic, calm down a bit,” Hadriel mumbled.

“Overdramatic? What do you know about it, you wispy-haired fuckbumper? You were stuck in the back stables trying to suck your own dick when this was all coming to pass. You didn’t know what was going on.”

“And I would’ve been able to suck my own dick if I’d been lounging around as much as you do,” Hadriel replied.

“No. The master did not want that woman for himself—he wanted her to spit in his father’s eye, that’s what he wanted,” Cecil went on, shooing the others away and herding me toward the stand in the center of the room.

“I don’t think he expected the faerie noble to spit in his father’s eye,” Hadriel drawled.

“It is an expression, you no-love-monkey-punch. An expression!”

“I have only had a no-love-monkey-punch once, you awful jackass, and it wasn’t on purpose.” Hadriel held up his fist, his face turning red. “How was I supposed to know he’d called my name just so he could shoot jizz on my face! I didn’t know why he’d pulled out and then called my name, so I looked back. Anyone would’ve done it! Just that one time, though. I don’t care what you’ve heard. It was just that one time! I learned my lesson, damn it!”

Cecil leaned back and guffawed.

“Wait…a what?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“The master was just rebelling,” Leala said, looking through the dresses hung on a stand in the corner. Not a frill or flourish could be found on any of them. They looked like plain fabric waiting for the seamster’s touch. I hoped that was the case, too. It meant I wouldn’t have to wear them anytime soon.

“Yes. Rebelling. I heard all the gossip from the ladies in waiting.” Cecil winked up at me. “That faerie had her own motives. She wanted his touch with the everlass. His song. If he resided in their kingdom, the everlass would follow. He has a special way with it. It responds to his touch, his song even more than it did to the queen. He was always the golden son, and it showed with the everlass.”

“Well, she might’ve been using him, or so people thought, but he wasn’t using her.” I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. He’s been very clear on where he stands. I just need to accept the truth.”

“What truth?” Leala asked, and the others slowed their chatter, looking at me.

“There is nothing between us,” I said.

“But he bit you,” Hadriel said.

“No.” Cecil straightened up and leaned way too close, grabbing the plain dress I’d worn in at the shoulder and pulling it wide. “No bite…”

“On her neck.” Leala tapped her own neck. “The mark is gone now—it wasn’t a claiming mark. He’s done it twice, though. The temptation is there.”

“The neck?” Cecil’s face pinched. “Why the neck? The neck does no good.”

“He will not be claiming me,” I said. “Can we hurry this along, Cecil? I want to get to the library.”

“Why not?” Hadriel asked. “He likes you. I’ve seen how he looks at you. How he treats you.”

“Because he has a fiancée.” Anger was starting to rise, and my animal roiled within me. “Because I don’t want him to. Because I’m common. Because this could never work. Take your pick. The only reason anything has ever happened between us is because of our animals. The animals want each other.”

So do the humans, my animal thought, and I ignored her.

“Well, that is good. Our beasts always know.” Cecil grabbed my dress at the bottom and started to work it up over my head.

I clutched at it. “Um…no.”

Cecil paused. “What do you mean, no? I need to see my dresses on you. You can’t wear some sort of…artist smock while I fit you.”

“It’s one of my outing dresses, thank you very much,” Leala muttered. I curled my lips under, not having known that.

“I need to see your form,” he persisted.

“Then use a slip or some undergarments like Eliza did,” I said. “I’m not getting naked in front of you.”

He rolled his eyes. “I have seen it. I have seen large breasts, small breasts, breasts that hang down low, man breasts, hairy man breasts…all kinds. I’ve seen vagins, too. Do you want to know all the vagins I have seen that I didn’t want to see these past…too many years? Bald vagins, hairy vagins, vagins with strange designs—”

“Vah-gine-ah, you illiterate prick,” Hadriel said, looking at his nails in the corner of the room. “Get it right. It’s the toughest body part in the known world. It takes a beating, grins, and says more, please. Straight guys trying out men for the first time hammer into your ass like they have a vendetta. No, thank you. I am sensitive, unlike the mighty vagina.”

“You are a vagine-ah,” Cecil told him.

“I wish I were, I’ll tell you that much. I wouldn’t fear the demons then. I’d get bloody and be like—come at me! I can do this for days, no problem. Bleeding does not mean I’m dying; it means I’m readying to duplicate and come at you with an army!”

“Just…here.” Leala bustled over with a lacy thing that looked like it would cover most of my torso while revealing all of it. There was no crotch, either.

“I…don’t think that is better?” I said.

“Amateurs.” Cecil stalked across the room and grabbed a tiny little slip of red silk. The bust was red lace and nearly see-through, and the hem would barely reach beyond my crotch. It was slinky and sexy and felt divine in my fingers. “There. That will cover you. It is for when you bed the master.”

“Are you hard of hearing? She isn’t bedding the master.” Hadriel flashed his teeth at Cecil.

Cecil stared back with a flat face. “If the master were to employ a sack of shit, would he have to pay it as much as he does you?” Hadriel narrowed his eyes. “She can use it to seduce the master, then, whatever. Put it on. I will turn around.”

I pulled it on under the dress, removing my arms from the dress sleeves so I could hike it up. Leala pulled the dress off over my head, and I put my arms through the slip while Cecil waited with his back turned, sighing in annoyance.

“I have seen all the stomachs. Fat stomachs, skinny stomachs, stretch-marked stomachs, bulbous stomachs, stomachs with no ab muscles that men want me to pretend have ab muscles…”

“Please stop. Seriously,” Hadriel said. “You’ve seen a lot of naked people. We get it. She doesn’t want to be one of those people. Move on.”

“Asses,” Cecil said. “The problem is asses…”

Leala gave me some sparkly thong underwear, and it was definitely clear that I would need to do something about the lady beard growing up out of it. That was embarrassing.

“I cannot create a good pair of slacks with asses that do not exist,” Cecil muttered. “I can clothe wide asses, or saggy asses, or bubble asses, but no ass? What do I do with no ass? Men come in with no asses all the time. I wish I could turn them away. Are they afraid of ass work?”

“I need to visit the salon, I think,” I whispered to Leala. “But, like…not for the demons. Just to…landscape things a bit.”

She winked at me as Cecil moved on to penises.

“Men have no shame when they come in here. They do not even wash the peen half the time. They swing it around, they play, they laugh when they get hard while I try to measure—it is annoying, dealing with the peen. And the big peens?” He made an exasperated sound. “One of the dragons had a peen so big, I had to make extra room in the clothes. I had to make them extra durable. And he got hard all the time. It nearly poked me in the eye when I measured his legs.”

“Are you talking about Nyfain?” I asked.

“The master— Can I turn around now? How long does it take to put on a teddy? This is a problem. Any person will lose interest if it takes you this long to undress.”

“Yes, you can turn around,” Hadriel said. “We would’ve told you sooner, but you were having such a wonderful time commenting on all the body parts you’ve seen.”

“Not the master, no. He needs a bit more room, yes. He’s bigger than the average dragon.”

“And the average dragon is a lot bigger than the average anyone else,” Hadriel said. “It’s an eye-widener.”

Leala nodded with a small smile.

“Yes, but the master is not terrible,” Cecil said. “He has a good ass, too. Good, strong bubble. Easy to design for him. No, this was another dragon—he’s dead—with a huge peen. It was a job hazard. My eyes!”

His dead-serious tone made me giggle helplessly. The guy was a trip.

“Now. Here. You try this.” He held up a slip of material that didn’t look like anything special. The second I put it on, though, I knew I was working with a genius.