A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #2)(112)

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.

I reached for the sliding glass door, but Nyfain got there first and slid it open for me. He waited for me to go inside before following me and letting the door shut behind us. He didn’t stop when I did, though, instead walking on to the center of the room.

Stopping in front of the enchanted rosebush coming up out of the floor, he said, “Look at this,” his voice rough.

My stomach flipped, and unease rolled through me. It felt like fear drove holes through my center.

I stopped opposite him and stared down without seeing.

“What do you see?” he prodded.

I shook my head, willing myself to focus, but it felt like waiting for a guilty verdict. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

“Finley, look,” he barked, power riding his command.

I stepped back and wiped my forehead with my forearm, pushing back on his command. If he kept it up, I’d give him one of my own, and we both know mine landed a helluva lot harder.

“Please,” he said softly. “Look at the rosebush.”

Gritting my teeth, hating all the unsaid words hovering between us, I did as he said.

“What do you see?” he repeated.

“The enchanted rosebush, Nyfain, I don’t know. What am I supposed to see?”

He pointed at the trunk, sparkling with color. Then a branch that supported five full blooms with little specks of pixie light floating around them.

“This is your village, I now realize.” He kept pointing. “For a long time, it was the only branch with any blooms. The rest had wilting flowers or outright dead. But this…” He pointed to a different branch. The wilting roses were magically lifting back into full blooms. The branch was turning from a cracked, weather-beaten brown into a vibrant, new-growth green. “This is the village we recently helped. This…” He pointed at the base, where the stem was changing color. “This is the castle, I think. I’m not sure what it means, since we don’t get sick, but it looks like life is resurging here, too. Your everlass elixir is changing the fate of the kingdom. It’s showing in the rosebush.”

I stared at it in wonder.

“This is great news, obviously,” Nyfain said, his voice subdued, “but now we enter the race.”

“What race? What do you mean?”

“The demon king monitors the progress of his efforts. We’re going to need to heal as many as we can, as fast as we can, before he shows up and attempts to find a way to stop us.”

“But…” I stared at him, not comprehending. “Do you really think he cares? We were worried about Jedrek, and nothing seems to have come of that. And now this… He hasn’t been here in how long?”

“When the curse was fresh, he used to show up for progress updates every few months. While he was here, he’d do whatever he could to make it harder for us. He’d kill anyone who angered him. He’d battle wills with me when I tried to stop it. Then, as we began to deteriorate, it was twice a year. Then once a year. We haven’t seen him in over three years, I think. The kingdom is fading, and he’s happy to let it. But now, suddenly…”

He looked at the rosebush.

Anger rose, an easier emotion than the fear and uncertainty and now dread firing within me. “You’re using the threat of the demon king to hurry me up? Because you assume you’ll lose your healer when he comes, right? I better get it all done before you sacrifice me to your cause.”

A line formed between his eyebrows.

I heaved a sigh. “I’m sick of hearing that he might show up. Might being the operative word. I’m sick of you hinting or outright saying that I’ll need to make a deal with him—meaning I’ll obviously need to leave. I’m sick of letting demons rule my life. Just sick to hell of it. Let him come. Fuck him. In the meantime, yeah, I’ll heal everyone I can. That was always the end game. I don’t need a rose and a curse and the threat of the demon king to do it as quickly as possible. I’ll do it to save lives.”

I turned to go.

“Finley, wait.”

“Nah.” I pushed out through the sliding glass door.