A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #1) Read Online K.F. Breene

Categories Genre: Dark, Dragons, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Deliciously Dark Fairytales Series by K.F. Breene
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
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Fire kindled deep inside of me. My animal moved within my chest, the first time it had happened without the beast—Nyfain—close at hand.

“I won’t say a word. Chances are I’ll still say something that’ll piss Nyfain off—” I stopped at her flinch. “What?”

“It’s just…” She curtsied, something I’d never actually seen done before. “We don’t call him by his birth name. We call him master.”

“You can call him whatever you like. I’ll call him by his name, and if he doesn’t like that, I’ll call him a ballbag fuckbumper. I’ll let it be his choice.”

She made a face like “oh!”

“Anyway, the chances are that I’ll piss off the ballbag fuckbumper very quickly, and he’ll kill me in rage.”

“Oh now, milady. I doubt he’ll…” She pulled her lips to the side as she looked through a chest of drawers Hadriel had poked through last night. “He does have a temper, sure, but…”

“He grabbed me by my throat last night when I wouldn’t answer his question.”

“Hadriel mentioned the master had been stabbed. Did you stab him then, milady?”

“Yeah. It’s why he let me go.”

I didn’t elaborate. Her look of triumph made me feel good about myself. I didn’t want to ruin it by telling her that I hadn’t been in control.

“You’ll do just fine, then.” She pulled out a set of leather pants and held them up in front of her. “The master said you might like a pair of trousers instead of a dress for day-to-day activities. Was he correct? I hope so, because there aren’t any dresses suitable for your beauty. They are all designed to add flourishes for someone with a plain face. Also, they will nowhere near fit. Much too small.”

I hadn’t realized such considerations went into fashion. Then again, Mom had made our clothes, and she didn’t care about such things. Hannon had taken over that duty after she had died, and he cared even less.

“Trousers, yes,” I said as dangerous tingles worked up my spine.

Nyfain must’ve been paying pretty close attention to me the last time he chased me out of the Forbidden Wood. How else would he know what sort of attire I preferred?

“Well, then.” She laid them out on the bed and looked through another drawer. “Thankfully you’re a tall girl, or you’d have to stay in your room until we had something made up. Which reminds me. I’ve booked you appointments with both seamstresses for later today. They can start working on your clothing right away. They were very excited to have the opportunity to do something new. All they work on now is party costumes and servants’ clothes.”

“I won’t be needing any party costumes,” I said quickly. Too quickly. I needed to pry my fingers away from those pearls.

She gave me a comforting smile. “Of course not. The master has forbidden you to leave your room after dark.”

That brought me up short, remembering what Hadriel had said last night as well. I wasn’t allowed to go out after dark.

Nyfain thought he could rule me, did he? That I would obey him?

Clearly he didn’t realize that Hadriel had given me the key and I could essentially do as I pleased. Maybe I wouldn’t wear a costume, and I damn sure wouldn’t partake in the festivities, but I would definitely leave my room after dark.

I just had to make that demon-be-gone draught first. These demons seemed more powerful than the ones in my village.

The pants were too loose at the waist and short in the leg, with extra room in the crotch and not enough room in the ass. The shirt was hanging off my shoulders and very loose around my neck, tight at my bust and then loose again. This was even after having the binding around my breasts.

“I’m wearing clothes for a male,” I stated.

“Yes, milady. It’s all we have, I’m afraid. Females around here don’t exactly dress…”

She paused, and I knew she was searching for a word that wouldn’t hurt my feelings.

Before I could help by assuring her that I had no feelings, she finished, “For comfort.”

“I’m a bit of a social pariah for dressing how I dress,” I admitted as she refolded the clothes she’d been looking at and shut the drawers.

“That just means you don’t conform to the way you’ve been told to live your life. That takes courage, milady. In these times, we need people with courage. There aren’t enough of them left.”

Humbled, I sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the windows at the breathtaking view. A warm glow infused my heart.

She got me. She wasn’t judging—she was supporting.

She suddenly straightened up and said, “Oh!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her spin and curtsey. A blast of fresh fragrance assaulted my senses, pine and lilac with a hint of honeysuckle, so delicious I wanted to lick the air. It reminded me of balmy days in the sunshine as a child, memories full of happiness and laughter.


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