A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #2)(80)

The council convened in a small white building with a spire and carefully cultivated grounds. A little play structure existed for well-fed and clothed children, who played with smiles on their faces and not a care in the world. Quite the difference from the other side of the village. Or from my entire village.

Dabnye stayed very close to me, pulling gazes to her like bees to bright flowers. I marched through the village center, rage pumping through me, power barely kept at bay. The crowd parted, confused, then scowled at Dabnye.

“Excuse me, but what is the meaning of this?”

A man with a large mustache and dark circles under his eyes stopped in front of me. Clearly he’d gotten some of the nulling elixir. The signs of weakness showed, but he was bouncing back. For now.

“What is the meaning of what?” I stopped for a moment, topping his height by a few inches and beating his scowl from experience.

“Well…” He chuckled softly, trying to hide his sudden wariness. “This little girl looks like she is far from home. Is she troubling you?”

“No.”

He waited for more. I didn’t provide it.

“Yes… Well, you see, the thing is, we don’t allow beggars—”

I slapped him in the dick. Not too hard—just enough to bend him over and quickly release his breath. I could’ve gone for the face, but that wasn’t unique enough. I wanted him to remember me. Now he would.

“She’s not begging,” I told him in a firm tone, loud enough to carry. “She is looking for the nulling elixir that is her due. And I am wondering why she has not gotten it. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I grabbed him by the shoulders and bodily moved him out of the way, a little rougher than was absolutely necessary.

Surprised gasps sounded from the quickly gathering crowd, and I sure hoped it was because of my violence and not because they could feel my power. Still, I wasn’t totally na?ve—I’d firmed up my place in the rumor mill. Oh well. A reckoning with the demon king was inevitable anyway, right? What was the difference if he came sooner or later?

I cranked the bronze handle in the wide double doors and shoved them open, walking through. A little kitchen sat off to one side with two women busy preparing pots of water and tea sets. How quaint. On the other side of a half wall, eight men and women sat in couches or chairs, facing Nyfain, who sat seemingly relaxed in a seat a few paces before a stage. Various musical instruments waited on the stage, and I assumed this was a place for dances or concerts or the goddess knew what. We didn’t have anything like it in my village.

Nyfain looked up from above steepled fingers. Intense wariness flowed through the bond. He knew this wouldn’t be good. Amazingly, though, he wasn’t getting up to stop me.

Hadriel was nowhere to be seen. He’d probably stayed outside with the horses.

The council members turned or glanced my way.

I wasn’t sure how to start. Yell? Throw something? Try to overturn one of the couches they were sitting in? My rage begged for all of those things. My animal wanted violence to match my mood.

“Hello.” I put my hand up for Dabnye to stay by the door. She didn’t need to be a prop in this.

My boots thunked against the wood as I made my way to Nyfain. He watched me the whole way, not offering any emotion.

I stood next to him, where everyone could see me.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked.

“What is the meaning of this?” a middle-aged woman said in an outraged voice. Her fine dress said she had money, and her attitude said she was not used to being interrupted. The others were one and the same.

“I’ll take that as a no.” I braced my hand on the back of Nyfain’s chair, shaking because I was so angry. I tried to stay calm and give them a chance to do the right thing. “I am Finley from Lark Crest village.” A few narrowed their eyes, looking at Nyfain for the meaning of this outrage. My village clearly wasn’t looked upon favorably. “I am the creator of the nulling elixir.”

Surprise lit their faces. Delight.

“Oh, that potion is genius—”

“It has saved countless people—”

“We are so thankful—”

“Enough!” I barked, and power pulsed through the room. This time I knew the gasp was because I’d revealed my hand.

A few faces went slack.

Not much I could do about it now.

“I gave you that elixir in good faith. It was supposed to be distributed to the sickest among you. Why wasn’t it?”

“Well, it was,” the middle-aged woman from before said, her stupid hat propped high on her coiffed head. “We cured all the sickest we had, and it worked like a charm.”

I pointed to the door—I was doing an awful lot of pointing in this village. “The guy I just ran into out there was not the sickest in this village. Not even remotely. There are people on their deathbeds in the cheap section. You should’ve given it to them first.”

An older man with a pressed suit and a gray comb-over offered me a slick smile. “Ah, but you see, young lady, his highness gave us the…elixir in good faith, not you. And his highness knows that in our tithe we have a certain way of doing things. The villagers who offer the most to the village will receive it before those who offer the least.”

Rage boiled and bubbled. It coiled within me, a living thing.