A Kingdom of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales Book 3)(73)

I heard Govam’s huff of derision, but he didn’t comment. I wondered what kind of life the officer thought he led.

In the washroom, I let the attendants clean me up without speaking, but I wanted to ask what this was about. What was happening. How long it would take. I just didn’t think I could manage it without a quaver in my voice. Without giving away my urgency to hurry it up. I was a prisoner; I should have all the time in the world.

My hair was arranged simply, a change from normal, and very little makeup was applied to my face. The dress was hideous, as usual, and they stalled as they went to put on footwear.

“What would you like for her?” the attendant asked.

Govam frowned, looking at my feet. “Shoes…of some sort. I don’t know.”

“Well, we can go with a pump that matches the dress, or a sandal—”

“Sir.” Denski hurried into the room, out of breath. He glanced at me. “The king has received some unexpected visitors, and the current guard staff are lacking. Those who were punished for the party have not been replaced. They’ve requested your aid.”

Govam studied my face for a long moment. “You don’t intend to cause trouble and be killed this evening, do you, Finley? Denski is just as capable as I am.”

I tried to play it cool but couldn’t keep the relief out of my voice. “If I don’t have to see Dolion, I’ll be a lamb.”

Govam nodded at Denski and then strode away.

“Right, put her back in her usual clothes,” Denski demanded. “Hurry, I want to be on hand in case I’m needed. I don’t have time to dally with a dragon.”

“We’re out of fresh slips, sir,” one of the attendants said. “There are men’s clothes?”

“Fine,” Denski said, and I stifled a laugh at how fitting that was. I’d come here in men’s clothes, after all. Might as well leave that way.

“And her shoes, sir?” the attendant asked. “I have…slippers and…worn-in boots.”

“I don’t care. Boots.” Glancing at me, he added, “That way you can give your cellmate a kick to stop him from sniveling. He was the most irksome pet we’ve had. He didn’t seem to understand the power dynamic.”

They gave me socks that had only one hole each, then strapped me into boots slightly too small but good enough.

Denski grabbed my elbows. “Do I need cuffs?” he asked. “I’m not sure why we bother, since you can break out of them anyway.”

“I was wondering the same thing, and no, I don’t. I wasn’t lying—if I’m not going to the king, I don’t intend to cause trouble.”

“Then let’s hope he doesn’t send for you after his guests leave.” He shoved me forward, and I wondered if that was a possibility. If so, we’d have zero time to lose.

He spoke to me as he led the way along the corridor, his tone bored and conversational. “He’s not at all pleased about that party, by the way.”

“I’ve heard that from several people. It seems he doesn’t like when the shoe is on the other foot.”

“No, he does not. Interestingly, his guests all raved. I heard that attendance for the next party will be higher than any of the previous ones. Word has spread. That means purchase prices will go up. He’ll disappoint everyone, including his treasurer, if he reins in the party dynamics.”

“Maybe he’ll rein in the parties but leave the after-parties untouched.”

“Maybe. Hopefully not. It’s tough to watch some of that. It puts me off sex entirely.” He paused for a moment. “I heard you were requested to urinate on someone.”

“You heard that, did you?” I said dryly.

“Yes. He’s dead now, by the way. I’d say you got the last laugh but…well, I doubt you were laughing.”

“No.”

“Which is what I find interesting.”

Huh. I’d had no idea he was capable of this level of chatting. Govam really dried up his words when they were working together.

“You are not appreciative of those party dynamics either. You didn’t participate in the antics at your castle, if what I’ve heard is true. Why would you work to change the parties here?”

“Revenge?”

He was quiet a moment as we reached the top level of the dungeon. “Yes, I suppose there is that. Though that doesn’t seem like your speed.”

“No? And what is my speed, Mr. Jailer?”

We walked down the center of the columns in the grand room. Near the end, several of the officers were lounging in their chairs and on their pillows, their heads thrown back and their arms dangling to the sides, hanging limply. Another officer, holding a cup, lay on his side on the ground, his head behind the couch. The space was deathly quiet except for a high-pitched sort of keening echoing through the space.

“What is going on here?” Denski said quietly, slowing.

My heart started to thump. I looked at the scene in feigned confusion, playing it off like I hadn’t poisoned them. Clearly the crowded everlass in our cells was much heartier than its free-growing friend. It would work in all settings and in all situations. Now I knew.

I loved it even more.

Too bad it might get us caught before we had even tried to escape.