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Chapter

Eleven

“ T ry not to stab yourself,” Theo grumbles.

My lips twitch. “Nothing a spell in the healing pools won’t solve.”

“I’ll be holding her this time,” Malachi says.

My face heats at the thought. Maybe getting stabbed wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen.

“Smart ass. Now she’s actively plotting to injure herself,” Theo snaps.

“No plotting required,” I remind them. “I’m lucky to make it a turn without injury.”

The spider’s legs stomp on the ground, kicking up dust. “She has returned. Creatures of Misery’s End assemble and welcome the maiden of my tale back into my bosom.”

A spider has a bosom? Where?

The doors of the huts open, and out pour a terrifying group of creatures. My broom hides behind my back, and the knights move to circle me once more.

“What have you gotten us into?” Hart asks. There is a hint of amusement in his tone that I haven’t heard before. He told the truth when he said he looked forward to my chaos.

The people creep closer to us. But these are no ordinary fairy-tale creatures—they’re a ragtag group of villainous villagers.

Unidentifiable folks mingle with more obvious ones.

A tall man in a tattered black cape mutters to himself as he kicks over a bucket of dirty water.

A woman in a dress made entirely of ravens’ feathers scowls at the sun like it personally insulted her.

There are a few witches with rainbow-colored skin and pointy noses, and a scowling man wearing a pirate hat with a silver hook sticking out from under his coat sleeve.

From the other side of the stream, a gnome-like man with a golden hue appears. A slow grin spreads across his face. “Pretty girl.”

“Avert your lecherous gaze, or I will remove your eyes,” Hart snarls.

Behind him is a beautiful woman wearing a crown. Her eyes narrow on me as she flicks her hair over her shoulder. “What is that?” she snaps.

“Ignore her,” the spider advises. “She is self-obsessed and hates the thought of anyone being prettier than her.”

I get it. In a land that holds the superficial ideal of outward beauty in high regard, it’s easy to get swept away with the social crowd. Sad, but true.

Another man appears with a flute in his hand. He tilts his head. “You are too old,” he declares.

“For what?” I wonder.

“That’s the pied piper,” Nash informs me. “He’s employed to collect unpaid debts or he will lure their children away.” Well, that’s terrifying.

A huge wolf man is the next to leave his hut. Behind him follows an older woman, who is busy tucking her hair into a ponytail. I don’t want to know. The gray wolf’s eyes zero in on me, and his pupils blow wide.

I gulp and glance down at myself to check what set him off. He lets loose a growl, tenses his legs, and leaps forward. Theo jumps in front of me, arms outstretched. “She’s not Red,” he snaps. “Get control of yourself.” The wolf bares his teeth, but backs off.

Oh boy, the red dress. Stupid choice. More and more villains pour out of their homes and come to sit on the stone benches surrounding us. One thing is clear; these poor people are miserable. It’s written in everything from their threadbare clothing to their posture and petty squabbling.

I lower my sword, not sensing any sort of violent intent from the mysterious creatures surrounding us.

“I am Mordis,” the spider declares. “And this is the League of Failed Villains.”

There’s a rumble of disquiet around the circle. I don’t think they enjoy their group name. Calling someone failed is bound to start them out on a bad foot each and every diurnal.

“Who is this?” the older woman who followed the wolf demands.

“I’m Daphne, and I mean you no harm.”

“You are waving a giant sword around,” the beautiful woman points out.

I glare at Excalibur. While it might be a conversation piece, it is not welcome right now. “Go back,” I whisper. The sword hums, making my fingers tingle. “Don’t argue with me. Return to the knights’ chambers. We shall be along shortly.” The metal vibrates but fails to disappear.

“Who is she talking to?” the pied piper snarls.

“I do not need saving right now,” I tell Excalibur.

“Her sword,” Malachi answers. “Don’t interrupt or she will have to start again.”

I arch a brow at the steel in my hand. “Yes, I’m healed. No, you are not a failed villain. You cannot join them. You are wanted.” I shift on my feet. “I’m not trying to get rid of you exactly. I am trying to extricate myself from the legend where I die.”

The sword sighs and then disappears. I look up, finding a range of amusement and wariness on the faces surrounding me.

Mordis raises her forelegs and gestures to a gap on the stone benches. The knights back up slowly toward the offered seating. Nash’s hand wraps around my waist, and he lifts me off my feet to sit on his lap.

I glance over my shoulder at him. “I’m not planning to cause chaos. You don’t need to hold me.”

“It’s not for you, it’s for me. I just need to reassure myself you are okay.”

My heart melts into a puddle at his feet, and I lean back against his hard chest. He runs his lips over the spot behind my ear, eliciting a shiver. “Threefold, Daphne. I hope you are ready.”

My eyes widen. I am so ready.

“Why is she staying?” the beautiful woman snarls. “We don’t need a maiden here to witness our failures.”

I blow out a long breath. “I may be a maiden, but I am not fair, gentle, graceful, or smart. I take the narrative and turn it on its head without meaning to.”

The woman in the raven feather dress leans forward and squints at me. “You are failed?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think like that. Predictability and compliance has its place, but not in my life. I might not conform to the Idols’ expectations, but I am carving my own path in the realm.”

Nash’s hand tightens against my stomach, stirring heat below.

“You are with this knight?” the man in the tattered cloak asks. “You have found true love?”

I glance at either side of me, meeting the gaze of each of my knights as my hand covers Nash’s. “I am with all of them, and I have found something deeper than love.”

“Greedy,” the golden-hued man says, rubbing his hands together.

“What is deeper than love?” the beautiful woman asks. “Hate?”

“Acceptance,” I tell them.

There’s a ripple of agreement around the circle. For a gang of folks declaring themselves as failed, they understand the weight of people loving you for all you are, not trying to change you. Longing is the look I see in their eyes.

“You can find your future with someone,” I tell them. “But first, you need to do something. Otherwise, you cannot hope to find love.”

“And what is that?” the wolf growls. He still looks a split tempo away from tearing me to pieces.

“You have to love yourselves,” I tell them.

Nash’s forehead leans against my back, and he shakes with laughter.

“Please tell me she’s not staging an intervention with the League of Failed Villains,” Hart growls low.

“They need my help,” I decide.

“There’s nothing to love,” the golden man says.

“Speak for yourself,” the beautiful woman snaps back.

“You don’t love yourself,” he counters. “If you did, you wouldn’t cry into the mirror every night. Don’t deny it. We all hear your wails of despair.”

Her eyes flash in anger, but also fear that they see through her brittle exterior.

“How do we love ourselves when everyone fears and hates us?” Mordis asks.

“Become the best you can be, and the masses won’t have a choice but to fall for you.”

“I am feared across the realm,” the woman in the feathered dress declares.

“Help them see beyond the narrative. Introduce yourself to them as a person, not as a character with a purpose. But also have fun and don’t take everything so seriously. The tempo you stop trying to force your destiny, you can put out into the universe what you want to receive.”

“It cannot be that easy,” the old woman snaps.

I shrug. “You’ll never know unless you try it. Let’s start with two brave folks who want to share why they feel they belong in the League of Failed Villains.”

Everyone looks around, wondering who is going to take a leap of faith and tell us what they are feeling, and where their fear comes from.

The man in the tattered cloak jumps to his feet. “I…” He hesitates, looking around at the others. “I always forget my evil monologues. It’s embarrassing.”

“And how does that make you feel?” I ask. As someone who constantly says the wrong thing and only thinks of good comebacks several turns later, I can emphasize.

“Inadequate,” he mutters. “Like no one will take me seriously as a villain.”

“You could practice on me,” the beautiful woman says, glancing at the ground like she’s ready for his rejection.

He blinks. “I would love that. Thank you.”

She lifts her head and smiles, her features etched less with evil intent and more of one of acceptance.

“Thank you for sharing,” I say, nodding encouragingly. Nobody else seems to step up. Perhaps a little push? “What about you with the raven feathers?”

“My name is Malady, and I don’t need help.”

“Denial,” I whisper loudly to the golden-hued man, who snickers. “Malady, have you considered diversifying your wardrobe? Feathers are lovely, but maybe they’re not sending the message you want.”

“What message is that?” she snaps.

I smile. “That you’re approachable and open to new ideas. Right now, you look like you’d hex someone for sneezing near you.”

“I would,” she agrees as she narrows her gaze on me thoughtfully.

The guy with the hook for a hand swallows as he stands.

“Everyone judges my missing hand, so I covered it with a hook. Better to be frightening than laughed at, but...” He yanks off the metal hook, revealing the end of his arm and his missing hand.

Tears fill his eyes. “I hate it. I just want to be loved.”

“We love you.” One of the rainbow-colored witches jumps to her feet and kisses him on his stump. The guy blushes and sits with a gasp. My heart squeezes. These folks had all the acceptance right on their doorstep. They just didn’t notice it.

The witch waves. “I am Jen, and although we are the trifecta of terror, it looks like a unicorn farted on our faces. Nobody runs screaming in terror. Children ask to touch us, and pregnant women wonder if we are a sign of good health.”

I tap my chin thoughtfully. “I believe this makes you stand out from the crowd. Do you know how many green-skinned witches I’ve met in my lifetime? Each one blurs into another, nondescript villains without a purpose. Just think—you can wear any color, no matter the seasonal fashions.”

She glances at her fellow witches with a frown. “She has a point.”

“Also, does terrifying people bring you joy?”

Jen’s mouth flops open and then snaps closed. Her sisters join her sides. “We hate it,” they agree. “But the Idols demand it.”

I wave my hand. “Don’t fret about the Idols, as I’m keeping them busy with my chaos. Do what makes your heart happy.”

“I’ve always wanted to open an ice cream parlor,” Jen whispers.

I throw my hands in the air. “Then do so. I bet it will be the best ice cream in the realm.”

The wolf jerks to his feet. “I’m a vegetarian.”

Everyone gasps. Apparently, this is the biggest revelation of the diurnal. “I’m also in love with Granny.”

The older woman flushes. “It’s true,” she whispers.

“Your diet choices are your own. If you aren’t a fan of sausage, then that’s okay,” I declare.

All the more for me. Theo snorts. Oops. “There’s a growing trend of vegetarian food in the realm.

Perhaps you should head up your own line?

Also, who we love, even when it is not conventional, as long as it’s consensual, is nobody else’s business. ”

The intervention continues for a turn or two. By the end, the League of Failed Villains are nodding and murmuring to each other about group hugs and trust falls.

“That went well, don’t you think?” I ask my knights as we leave the village, now stocked with supplies and a basket of muffins Malady baked as a thank you.

“Define ‘well,’” Theo mutters, his smile betraying his words.

Malachi chuckles. “You, Daphne Stone, are a one-woman storm of delightful chaos.”

I curtsy, nearly tripping over a rock. “Why, thank you! Now, let’s get back to the castle before Gwyneth kills Charming.”

An echo of laughter drifts among the trees.

My brows lower as I glare at the gloomy forest. Malice stalks us even now.

I can sense it in my bones. Her envy. Her anger.

Her intent to steal from me. I glance around at my knights.

Not happening. I have found acceptance, just like the villains, and that is worth all the gold in the realm.