A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #2)(39)

I opened my eyes to find him staring at my neck. I covered the bite mark with my palm, my cheeks warming.

“It’s nothing,” Leala insisted, draping my hair over the mark. “She slipped and fell.”

“On the master’s teeth?” Hadriel quirked a brow. “Who are you trying to fool, Leala? I’m not one of them. I know to keep my mouth shut. The master said he’d pull off my arms if I didn’t”—his eyes widened—“and I believe him.”

“You’re drunk. You are a horrible gossip when you drink and don’t have a dick in your mouth,” she mumbled.

“Not about the master’s affairs, I’m not. So, doll, tell me everything. I know he got hurt saving you, and you nursed him back to life.” He braced his elbow on his knee and his chin on his fist. “Then what? He’s a closed book, that one. I’m dying to know how you ended up back at the castle. I honestly thought he was going to let you go, what with the way he was moping around, snapping at everyone, scaring the staff half to bits. The demons thought it was because you got away. So that’s good, at least. And you did, except now you’re back. Tell me, did you miss him, is that why?”

“Hadriel,” Leala said with a note of warning in her voice.

“I’ll tell you everything after I get a few hours’ sleep,” I said.

Hadriel made a disgruntled sound. “I hate when the party has to end.”

“I don’t know why, with the amount you party,” Leala said, putting the brush aside and moving to turn down my bed.

“What else do I have to do?” Hadriel stood and staggered as he put the chair back.

“Help me with the garden, for one,” I said. “Playtime is over. There’s an entire kingdom that needs our support, and you’re going to help me cater to them. Nyfain can’t be expected to hold this place up on his shoulders alone. It’s time we pitch in and do our part.”

“I suddenly think I need another drink,” Hadriel muttered as he wandered out.



Later that afternoon, I did as I’d said and put Hadriel to work. Nyfain had already started him on the garden, with help from some of the other staff, so I let them continue that. I visited the small herb garden on the east side of the castle, something the cook apparently took care of for the food and what little supplies Nyfain needed to add to his subpar healing remedies.

“This is it?” I asked, standing at the edge and looking it over.

Jessab, a round-bellied man with a white mustache and thin lips, puffed out his chest. “That is all I need to make the food. You want I take care of plants I don’t need so that I don’t make the food?”

He was clearly not from this kingdom, but I didn’t want to waste time asking about his past. It didn’t matter in the present. Also, I had a feeling he’d say something unsavory about my nosiness.

For some reason, it felt like I was on a timer. It felt like I had to get the kingdom healthy before doom struck us. Again. I had no idea what form that doom would take, but I had a suspicion it had to do with the demon king.

“Don’t you have a gardener? I thought someone told me there was still a gardener left in the castle.”

“The gardener, he tends the everlass plants with the master. He has no need to be messing with no herbs for cooking.”

“Right. Well, I’ll need some starter sprigs from you. I’ll be creating a larger herb garden for elixirs and whatnot.”

“Listen here, honey. I no answer to you. If you want starter sprigs or whatever, you ask the master—”

He cut off as I leaned toward him, a few inches taller and a whole lot meaner. I dropped my voice and upped my menace.

“I will take what I need, and I’ll do it as I need to. Do we understand each other?”

He turned a little and pulled his arms up, as though my words were poisonous darts and he was trying to protect his chest. He didn’t answer. Not that I’d expected him to. I gave a last look at the herbs and headed out to the everlass field. I’d plant an herb garden in the queen’s garden so everything was in the same spot. There was no sense wandering all around the castle trying to keep everything watered, when I could do it all in the one place. She’d had space for it anyway, I seemed to recall.

The everlass shed was clean and immaculately organized. Leaves had been set out to dry, and a cup sat in the middle of the first worktable, halfway full. I picked it up and smelled it. The nulling elixir, I’d know that scent anywhere. Cold, though. Old. It wasn’t good anymore.

I turned toward the door to toss out the contents and jumped. My hand jerked, and liquid sloshed over it.

Nyfain stood in the doorway, watching me. The guy was incredibly light of step for having such a big frame.

“Hey,” I said with a shaky release of breath.

“Well?” he asked, clearly still in a shit mood.

I ignored it. “It’s great. It’ll definitely work. This batch is old, though. It does best when it’s fresh.”

“It’ll work…meaning it’s not quite right?”

I brushed past him and poured the contents out. I set the cup in the wash station and looked over the spread-out leaves. “When were these dried?”

He walked up behind me, pointing at the first batch. “At dawn to try that out…” He pointed down the way. “In the evening.”