A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #2)(115)

He was right to worry.

All good things would come to an end, and the demon king had noticed our efforts.





Twenty-Four





I woke before dawn, shivering from the cold. My blankets were still wrapped around me, but the furnace that was Nyfain was absent.

I frowned, glancing at the somewhat lightening sky, black shifting to a bruised purple. He definitely should’ve been back from his rounds by now.

A deep, soul-crushing misery radiated through the bond. Pain, but not of the physical variety. This was of the heart.

I threw back the covers and lit a candle, intending to go to my wardrobe and dress, but before I made it more than a couple of steps, a light knock sounded at the door. I paused, listening.

“It’s just me, milady,” Leala said in a somber voice, not usual for her.

With shaking hands, I turned over the lock and pulled open the door. She held hangers in both hands, additional clothes for me. Her expression was tight with worry.

“Good morning, milady,” she said, waiting for me to get out of the way and let her in as normal.

“What’s happened? What’s going on?”

She set the clothes on the bed and pulled open the wardrobe before starting to rearrange everything.

“We have a new visitor in the castle,” she said in clipped tones. “The demon king has come for an inspection, as he does. The master ran into him last night in the wood.”

Cold dripped down my spine. Suddenly, the emotions through the bond made a lot more sense.

I raised my chin. We couldn’t both go to pieces.

“And what usually happens when he comes?” I asked as she put the new clothes away, leaving out a dress. “And what is this?”

“The master thought it would be best if you tried to blend in with the servants. At least at first. You’ll be subject to more ill treatment from the demon minions, but at least you won’t have the eyes of the demon king on you.”

I contemplated that for a moment. Getting one’s bearings was certainly a good strategy in response to a new threat. But with some things, like hunting wild boar, you could have your bearings and still the fuckers managed to blindside you. I had a feeling the demon king would be very like a wild boar: cunning, ruthless, and dangerous.

“Give me Nyfain’s old clothes.”

Unlike many, I’d never shied away from hunting wild boar, bastards though they were.

She turned around slowly, alarm on her face.

“Nyfain’s old clothes, Leala. The more ill-fitting, the better. I’ll do my own hair, too. I want to feel like myself, and I was always a hot mess before Nyfain polished me up. I’ll wear the dagger, too. The fine one. It works better.”

“I really don’t advise you to start any trouble with him, milady. He isn’t like the normal demons here. He is much more powerful.”

“I’m not the one starting trouble. I’m not the one who showed up uninvited and lorded over someone else’s kingdom, causing death and ruin. Fuck that guy. If he wants to come after me, then he gets what he gets. I’ve never backed down from anyone in my life. I do not intend to start now.”



After breakfast, I made my way to the queen’s garden as the sun crested the horizon. I took my usual route around the grounds, noticing a distinct lack of bird calls. The Forbidden Wood waited in the distance, still and dark and full of monsters.

Nearly at the garden wall, I noticed a shape standing off to the side. A male, judging by the width of his shoulders and slim hips. He stood straight and stoic, his build wiry and height on the shorter side, compared to my six feet, anyway. It didn’t take long for his gaze to swing my way, rooting to me and watching me advance.

I’d never seen him before, but his funky smell gave him away. A demon, quite strong in power. I guessed these bastards weren’t fully contained by the night.

Kill him, my animal snarled.

It would be a fine hello.

He wore a black button-up shirt with the arms buttoned tightly at the wrists and around the neck. His black slacks were pleated beneath the black belt. His black shoes had been polished up to a mirror shine, and his bleach-blond hair in a bowl cut just confused me.

He angled his body so that he was directly facing me now, waiting for me to draw near. As I did, he sidestepped so that he was standing directly in my way.

“What are you doing out here, wandering the grounds?” he asked in a highish voice with a strange lilt.

“Looking for you, actually. I was hoping for some fashion advice. My goal is to confuse everyone while also making them pity me. This is my start…” I flowed my hand down my front. “And I can only assume you’ll be my finish. Nice pleats.”

“You smell…off.”

“You look ridiculous.”

His eyebrows dipped. “Is this your pathetic means of rebelling?” Claws elongated from his fingers, shiny black things. I got the feeling he meant it as a threat.

My animal took it as an invitation.

I drifted my hand toward my dagger, careful to keep her far enough down that my eyes wouldn’t glow. I wanted his death to be a surprise.

“Rebelling?” I said nonchalantly. “Kind of like what you’re doing with that hair? The demon king must have a sense of humor.”

“Your kind are to remain in the castle until the king can assess who is left.”