A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales – B&tB Book 1)
A Ruin of Roses: Chapter 15

Two hours later, I sat on Sable’s bed covered in bandages, looking at Nyfain as he squirmed and thrashed. His fists clenched and unclenched. His head turned from one side to the other. He groaned, his forehead and back slicked with sweat.

I’d told my family the whole story, from the second I left the house to the second I returned, omitting only a few things. They’d gleaned that Nyfain was important, but they didn’t know he was a prince. They thought he was a noble who had survived and had the fate of the kingdom resting on his shoulders. I hoped they were as gullible as I had been. And while they knew about the castle of nightmares, I obviously hadn’t gone into detail about the nature of those nightmares. The kids were present, after all. But they got the general picture. I was sure Hannon connected the dots, given his knowledge of the demons that infested our village.

When I was finished, Sable asked, “But why is he covered in pain?”

The question took me aback. “Because he thinks he killed his mother and failed in protecting his kingdom.”

“No.” She screwed up her face. “That thing with his mother is just silly. Women don’t die of broken hearts. That’s just something people say to hide the neglect and mistreatment the women actually died of. But you said his momma thought of herself as a rosebush. Well, rosebushes don’t give in to anybody. You can cut the hell out of them, think you killed them, and they grow a new shoot and come back from the dead. Rosebushes die from being stifled and cut off from the things they love, like water and sunshine. I bet it’s the dad’s fault. The dad killed her to bring the son back and then trap him. You tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’ve been reading too many mysteries,” Hannon murmured.

“Better than Dash’s stupid picture novels,” she said, and Dash threw a pillow at her. “Anyway, no, I wasn’t talking about what his father did to him. That’s obvious. I meant, why does he have all the scrapes and stuff all over his body? Is that what warriors always look like?”

More time passed as I watched Nyfain, moving as slowly as cold honey, Sable sleeping on the couch and just him and me in the room. More stirring from the bed. He lay facedown again, and I found myself looking at those thick indents running down his back. At the zigzags slicing through his flesh.

“Why do you really patrol the Forbidden Wood?” I said softly, leaning over to trace one of those wide scars. He shivered and moaned a little, stilling.

I got onto my knees beside the bed, tracing to the bottom of the scar and starting at the top again. He breathed deeply and turned his face my way, his eyes fluttering. It seemed to soothe him for some reason.

“It’s because you’re protecting all of us, isn’t it? That’s your duty.” I surveyed the black lines from the poison, receding from his skin. The crowded everlass was working. If those lines weren’t nearly gone in another hour and a half, I’d give him a tiny bit more of the elixir.

I thought back over the years. Back then, we’d had visitors more violent than the incubi. Those creatures had terrorized the town and killed anyone they could. I remembered the fear and panic. My parents had made us hide under the bed until the threat was gone, just in case they busted into the house. We’d been religious about locking the doors and closing the shutters.

Over time, that threat had diminished, though. I couldn’t remember the last time it had happened.

Now I realized it was because of Nyfain. He’d clearly gone through a steep learning curve, and now he patrolled the wood every night, killing the violent creatures before they could reach the villages.

“The demon king is playing a game with you, right?” I asked, smoothing his tousled hair from his high forehead. “He made it so you couldn’t go into the villages but his creations could. At the start, at least. The game is that you need to find and kill them before they make it into the villages and prey on the people. Your people.”

What a slimy snake. No, calling the demon king a snake was a disservice to snakes.

“I wish I could help you.” I traced his strong jaw and then down the scar along the edge of his full, shapely lips. “I wish I could shift and help you. I know my animal would be all for it.”

His eyes fluttered open. Hooded and drowsy but open.

A rush of excitement ran through me. I moved a little closer to his head.

“Hey,” I whispered, tears stinging the backs of my eyes. “How are you feeling?”

He opened his hand closest to me and moved it a little in my direction. I took it, stroking the back with my thumb.

“Will a pain reducer mess with the everlass?” I asked, putting my other hand on his head now and gently stroking his forehead. “I might be able to figure some stuff out, but the rest is trial and error. I’d rather not try with you right now and mess up.”

“Please.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. Scratchier than normal.

“Water, right? Do you need water?” I moved to get up, but his hand held me firm, still incredibly strong.

“Stay with me,” he rasped.

I cupped his hand. “Of course I will. I’m watching you to see if you need more of the draught. We’ll get you out of this, okay? You will live to fight another day.”

“Please. Keep talking. It helps me know that…I am still part of this world. The other side is sucking at me. I long to give in. But for you, I would have already. The last sixteen years…have been misery. Each day has been worse than the last. I am so tired, Finley. I am so tired of this nightmare.”

Fear pierced my heart. I squeezed his hand between mine.

“More everlass, then? Do you need more now? I know you promised your mother not to voice the family secret, and we will absolutely fight about that when you are well, but you need to help me help you right now, okay? She wouldn’t want you to die so young. I know you think you’re responsible for her death, but Sable said something, and I’ve been thinking about it. Your mother loved you. She would’ve wanted you to be happy. She missed her home”—I was assuming that part from the things he’d said—“and she wouldn’t begrudge you for leaving. She ended up in a loveless marriage with a mad husband and wasn’t even allowed to speak her ancestral language. Why the hell would she want that for you? I mean, look at me. I am not like the other women in this village. I’m wild, and I hunt, and I take risks, and I come home a bloody mess. I don’t care about pretty dresses with ruffles or whether the town hunk wants to marry me…”

His hand squeezed mine, and his body tensed. I blew out a slow breath, checking over those lines on his back again. They were still receding. Maybe there were just a few jolts of pain as they did so.

I kept talking.

“I’ve been this way since I was a kid. People used to tell my mom that she shouldn’t allow me to hang out with Hannon so much. That I was a bad influence on him because he’s gentle and kind and lovely. But she could be as stubborn as a rock. She ruled this house. She would not allow anyone to cow me. She let me wear whatever I wanted. She let me do as I pleased, so long as I was respectful. She trusted me to make the right choices. That’s what mothers do—they guide. They strengthen. They support, and they never stop loving their children. Never. I doubt a rosebush would begrudge her son his wild spirit.”

Tears filled my eyes. “I miss her so much,” I confessed, leaning forward and laying my cheek against the pillow by his head. “I couldn’t save her. The recipe for the nulling elixir wasn’t as good back then. I ran out of time. But you know what? I have to remember that it ultimately wasn’t my fault. The curse and the sickness killed her. I couldn’t beat it at that time, but I will beat it in time for Father. I will. I will not lose another.”

I stroked his cheek, my other hand still around his.

“You know, they were right about Hannon being nicer than me. My mom always argued I’d be a lost cause without him. He hates hunting and fishing and drinking pints in the pub with the lads. He thinks they are all thickheaded apes. He’s right, obviously. He’d actually like the whole hobby situation at the castle. He could probably make a really pretty watercolor. He’s super good at sewing and needlepoint. And you’ve seen how he can nurse people. He and I are as opposite as opposites could be. It’s why we make an excellent team. I’m good at all the things he hates, and he’s good at all the things I hate.”

“He needs a strong mate,” Nyfain rasped.

I startled. Then blushed in embarrassment. He’d said to keep talking, true, but I hadn’t realized he’d sift through each word.

“Yeah. But there are none in this village. I mean, that’s not true. I’m sure there are strong women; they just won’t go against the grain. No one has approached me, for example, to learn how to hunt. Except Sable. I was teaching her about traps and small game before meeting you. But she also likes frilly dresses and looking pretty, so she can hide her weirdness a little better than I could.”

“I like your weirdness.”

“I didn’t think you liked anything of mine.”

“Water, please.”

“Right. Yes, of course.” I pushed back to get up, but one of my legs had fallen asleep. It gave out, and I dropped like a stone, hitting the edge of Sable’s bed and clattering to the floor. “Dang it.”

He jerked and then groaned, his eyes peeling open to peer over the bed.

“I’m good.” I gave him a thumbs-up as I crawled onto the bed. “All good.”

The bedroom door opened, and Hannon stuck in his bleary face. “What happened?”

“I need water for him. My leg fell asleep, and I fell on my head.”

He rolled his eyes and moved across the room to the water pitcher. He picked it up and filled a tin cup. As he bent to give it to Nyfain, I lifted back onto the bed and started to pound the feeling back into my leg.

“Can you sit up, or should we help you?” Hannon asked.

Nyfain tried to lift himself, but his arms gave out, and he fell back down to the mattress. “This bed is as hard as rocks.”

“Same denseness as your head, then,” I said without meaning to.

He grinned as Hannon moved to the other side and waited for me.

“You will go sit at the right hand of the goddess when you die, Hannon,” Nyfain said as I got up to help. Invisible pins and needles stabbed my leg. “You deserve the highest honor in death for dealing with a sister like that all your life.”

“Apparently you’re feeling better,” I grumbled as Hannon and I turned him over and propped him up.

“How do you feel?” Hannon asked, turning nurse again. “Has the pain receded?”

“A bit. It is biting deep into my bones, but it is no longer throbbing. Small miracles.”

“Do you need more elixir?” I asked, taking the cup from Hannon. Nyfain’s clumsy hand came up to take it, and I batted it away. “You’ll end up spilling it. You’re an invalid—act that way.”

His lips tweaked upward. “Yes, ma’am.”

He drank the contents, spilling the last bit out the corner of his mouth.

“That’s enough for now,” Hannon said softly.

I put the cup on the ground, and we turned Nyfain back over. He let out a ragged cough and gripped the pillow, but settled down, his face still angled to look at me.

“I’m in the next room if you need me,” Hannon said, holding out his hand.

I deposited the cup into his waiting palm. He nodded and made his way out the door.

“What will he do with it?” Nyfain asked, coughing a little more and then groaning.

“With what, the cup?” I got a weak nod. “Wash it. There’s another up there. When that one is clean, he’ll bring back the first. He’s really big on cleanliness when it comes to nursing people.”

“As he should. You two do make a good team.”

“Yeah. We were raised in hard times, with very few people to lean on.”

“No, no more elixir for now. I could use some of your power, though.”

I prodded my animal, and a wave of power washed through me and into Nyfain. When it washed back, we caught it in confusion, and it diffused through my middle and sank down deep. I sucked in a startled breath. It felt like I was still connected to Nyfain through the power, or maybe magic. Or maybe just our animals, I didn’t know. And while I couldn’t specifically feel him, I could feel his essence. His imposing presence taking root deep inside of me. It was something I should probably be annoyed about, or worried about maybe, but right now I just wanted him whole again. The kingdom needed him. I’d deal with the repercussions when he was well.

I sighed and slunk down next to him.

“You should get a haircut,” I said, laying my head on my arm this time as I twirled his hair with my fingers.

“I haven’t cared about my appearance in a really long time. There has been no one to impress. No one I wanted to impress, at any rate.”

“Well, thank you very little.” I laughed softly. “I had a boyfriend once, and a couple of times I tried to dress up. I wanted to feel sexy and turn him on.”

“What happened?”

“He got really weird about it. He said he didn’t want to take me out around people looking like that. I wasn’t exposed or anything. I didn’t understand his problem. He came clean when he dumped me. He apparently thought that I’d flaunted my appearance to make him look lesser. Like he didn’t deserve me. I guess he wanted me to kneel so he could stand taller. I was heartbroken at the time, so I didn’t punch him for that as I ought to have…”

“Why would he look lesser for dating someone more attractive than him? I’d think other men would be clapping him on the back in congratulations.”

“I don’t know. I can only assume it had something to do with Jedrek, this dickface in the village. He wants to mate me mostly because of my appearance, I think. He’s likely been thinking about this for a while. I bet he spread rumors or picked on my ex. Men’s egos are so fragile. No offense.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten far if I took offense every time someone spoke the truth.”

I laughed, trailing my fingers down his cheek. “That whole ‘pretty’ thing annoys me. Everyone’s one and only compliment to me has always been about my appearance. It’s all I get to be.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m so much more than my appearance. We all are. I’m as well read as I can be in this village. I’m smart and strong and good at problem solving. I have courage—mostly. I’ve created various healing remedies people use, not to mention the one that keeps their family members alive. But I only get praise for being pretty. It feels like, in this village, if you’re beautiful, you’ve reached the highest level of achievement for a woman—something none of us can control. Something given to me and that I didn’t work for or have any choice in. And if you aren’t perceived as beautiful, or if you don’t play up your beauty, you’re constantly told ways to fix yourself to look better—hair, makeup, clothes, whatever. As if we somehow need fixing because someone else doesn’t like us the way we are. As if we should care what others think over what we think of ourselves. It’s bullshit.”

He didn’t respond. I heaved out a sigh.

“I want to be known for what I do, not how I look. I want to be praised for my achievements. But in this village, I feel like all I am is pretty and full of flaws. I just… I just want something more, I guess.”

“You will have it,” he whispered, and I could tell his strength was failing him. He needed sleep. “You were meant for great things, Finley. Things this kingdom cannot provide you. One day you will see a crack in your cage, and you will fly.”