A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #2)(46)

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.