Jude And Cardan Quotes

Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It's disgusting, and I can't stop.

Mock me all you like. Whatever I imagined then, now it is I who would beg and grovel for a kind word from your lips." His eyes are black with desire. "By you, I am forever undone.

So I am to sit here and feed you information,” Cardan says, leaning against a hickory tree. “And you’re to go charm royalty? That seems entirely backward.” I fix him with a look. “I can be charming. I charmed you, didn’t I?” He rolls his eyes. “Do not expect others to share my depraved tastes.

Yes, my great villan, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can

You really do want me,' I say, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath as it hitches. 'And you hate it.

There you are," Cardan says as I take my place beside him. "How has the night been going for you? Mine has been full of dull conversation about how my head is going to find itself on a spike.

But kissing Locke never felt the way that kissing Cardan does, like taking a dare to run over knives, like an adrenaline strike of lightning, like the moment when you've swum too far out in the sea and there is no going back, only cold black water closing over your head.

The odd thing about ambition is this: You can acquire it like a fever, but it is not so easy to shed.

He's flint, you're tinder.

Cardan looks at me as though he's never seen me before. He looks at me as though no one has ever spoken to him like this. Maybe no one has.

My sweet nemesis , how glad I am that you returned

I wasn't kind, Jude. Not to many people. Not to you. I wasn't sure if I wanted you or if I wanted you gone from my sight so that I would stop feeling as I did, which made me even more unkind. But when you were gone—truly gone beneath the waves—I hated myself as I never have before.

Cardan grins at me as though we've been great friends all our lives. I forgot how charming he can be--and how dangerous that is.

I raise a plastic glass. “To family.” “And Faerieland,” says Taryn, raising hers. “And pizza,” says Oak. “And stories,” says Heather. “And new beginnings,” says Vivi. Cardan smiles, his gaze on me. “And scheming great schemes.” To family and Faerieland and pizza and stories and new beginnings and scheming great schemes. I can toast to that.

She's my wife," Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. "The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile.

You have only seen the least of what I can do.

He rises from the throne. “Come, have a seat.” His voice is replete with danger, lush with menace. The flowering branches have sprouted thorns so thickly that petals are barely visible. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks. “What you sacrificed everything for. Go on. It’s all yours.

Go ahead. Insult me.” His eyebrows go up. “I don’t take commands from mortals,” he says with his customary cruel smile. “So you’re going to say something nice? I don’t think so. Faeries can’t lie.

You didn’t hear the story I told,” he goes on. “A shame. It featured a handsome boy with a heart of stone and a natural aptitude for villainy. Everything you could like.

Sharpen your heart.

The curse is broken. The king is returned." He's every bit as terrifying as any serpent. I don't care. I run into his arms. Cardan's fingers dig into my back. He's trembling, and whether it is from ebbing magic or horror, I am not sure. But he holds me as though I am the only solid thing in the world.

Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you must. Just come home. Cardan

Guard your mortal heart.

Whoever controls the king, controls the kingdom

Vivi blows a noisemaker. “Here,” she says, passing out paper crowns for us to wear. “This is ridiculous,” I complain, but put mine on. Cardan looks at his reflection in the door of the microwave and adjusts his crown so it’s at an angle. I roll my eyes, and he gives me a quick grin.

The next time you want to make a point,' Jude says, 'I beg you not to make it so dramatically.' His shoulder hurts, and she may be right about the iron poisoning. He certainly feels as though his head is swimming. But he smiles up at the trees, the looping electrical lines, the streaks of clouds. 'So long as you're begging,' he says.

You think I don’t deserve him,” I say to Cardan. He smiles slowly, like the moon slipping beneath the waves of the lake. “Oh no, I think you’re perfect for each other.

It's you I love," he says. "I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn't have one at all. Even now, it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours.

And you think it was sunrise I was waiting for and not my queen. Do you not hear her footfalls? She has never quite managed the trick of hiding them as well as one of the Folk. Surely you've heard of her, Jude Duarte, who defeated the redcap Grima Mog, who brought the Court of Teeth to their knees? She's forever getting me out of scrapes. Truly, I don't know what I would do without her.

Have I told you how hideous you look tonight?' Cardan asks, leaning back in the elaborately carved chair, the warmth of his words turning the question in to something like a compliment. 'No,' I say, glad to be annoyed back in to the present. 'Tell me.' 'I cannot,' he says, then frowns.

Jude. You are in no mood for games, very well. I am in no mood for them, either. Let me write it outright; You are pardoned. I revoke your banishment. I rescind my words. Come home. Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you must. Just come home.

Cardan is lying on the bed, bandaged and sulking, in a magnificent dressing gown. “I hate being unwell,” he says. “You’re not sick,” Jude tells him. “You are recovering from being stabbed—or rather, throwing yourself on a knife.” “You would have done the same for me,” he says airily. “I would not,” Jude snaps. “Liar,” Cardan says fondly.

Jude, Since I cannot imagine there is much in the human lands to interest you, I can only suppose your continued absence in Elfhame is due to me. I urge you: come be angry at a nearer distance. Cardan.

He cuts his gaze toward his unpredictable, mortal High Queen, whose wild brown hair is blowing around her face, whose amber eyes are alight when she looks at him. They are two people who ought to have, by all rights, remained enemies forever. He can't believe his good fortune, can't trace the path that got him here.

Cardan gazes at a rosebush with petals so black and glossy they look like patent leather. ¨It was terrifying,¨ he says, ¨watching you fall. I mean, you´re generally terrifying, but I am unused to fearing for you. And then I was furious. I am not sure I have ever been that angry before.¨ ¨Mortals are fragile,¨ I say. ¨Not you,¨ he says in a way that sounds a little like a lament. ¨You never break.¨ Page 159

What I want is him back, him standing beside me, him laughing at all this. I would settle for even his worst self, his cruellest trickster self, if only he could be here.

But I can't pretend that I don't like the sound of him screaming my name.

Harden your heart.

Jude, You are in no mood for games. Very well. I am in no mood for them, either. Let me write it outright: you are pardoned. I revoke your banishment. I rescind my words. Come home. Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you must. Just come home. Cardan

Jude, Not even responding to my missives is ridiculous and beneath you and I hate it. Cardan

Go ahead. Insult me." His eyebrows go up. "I don't take commands from mortals," he says with his customary cruel smile.

Get down here before you’re recognized.” “Playing hide-and-seek under the table? Crouching in the dirt? Typical of your kind, but far beneath my dignity.” He laughs unsteadily, like he expects I am going to laugh, too. I don’t. I ball up my fist and punch him in the stomach, right where I know it will hurt. He staggers to his knees. The goblet drops to the dirt, making a hollow clanking sound. “Ow!” he shouts, and lets me tug him under the table.

I hate you," I breathe into his mouth. "I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.

¨Clap her in chains,¨ Says Randalin. I feel a guards hand close on my arm. Then Cardans voice comes. ¨Do not touch her. She is my wife,¨ Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. ¨The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile.¨ Page 147

I would speak with Oak for a moment,” Cardan says. “Alone.” Jude looks surprised but then shrugs. “I’ll be outside, yelling at people.” “Try not to enjoy it too greatly,” says Cardan as she goes out.

¨Yes, my sweet villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can.¨ And with that, he kisses me on the mouth. I feel a cacophony of things at once. Page 284

Have I ever told you how much you sound like Madoc when you talk about murder?” Cardan said, opening one eye. “Because you do.” Oak expected his sister to be angry, but she only laughed. “That must be what you like about me.” “That you’re terrifying?” he asked, his drawl becoming exaggeratedly languorous, almost a purr. “I adore it.” She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. The king’s arms came around her, and she shivered once, as though letting something fall away.

He leans in and closes his eyes. ¨Most of all, i hate you because i think of you. Often. Its disgusting, and I cant stop.¨ I am Shocked into silence.

I missed you," I whisper against his skin and feel dizzy with the intimacy of the admission, feel more naked than when he could see every inch of me. "In the mortal world, when I thought you were my enemy, I still missed you." "My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned." He pulls my body against his, cradling my head against his chest. We are still lying on the floor, although a perfectly good bed is right next to us.

He looks at me and blinks, as through a fog. "This is an absolutely terrible idea," he says with a kind of amazement in his voice. "Yes," I tell him, kicking off my boots. -Cardan and Jude

Tell me again what you said at the revel," he says, climbing over me, his body against mine. "What?" I can barely think. "That you hate me," he says, his voice hoarse. "Tell me that you hate me." "I hate you," I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." He kisses me harder. "I hate you," I breathe into his mouth. "I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.

He closes his eyes. When he opens them, he releases my hand and turns so I cant see his face. ¨I can see why you thought what you did. I suppose I am not an easy person to trust. And maybe I ought not to be trusted, but let me say this: i trust you.¨ Page 162

You could still be lying,” says the Roach. He turns to Cardan. “Try her.” “Your pardon?” Cardan says, drawing himself up, and the Roach seems to suddenly remember to whom he’s speaking in such an offhanded way. “Don’t be such a prickly rose, Your Majesty,” the Roach says with a shrug and a grin. “I’m not giving you an order. I’m suggesting that if you tried to glamour Jude, we could find out the truth.” Cardan sighs and walks toward me. I know this is necessary. I know that he doesn’t intend to hurt me. I know he can’t glamour me. And yet I draw back automatically. “Jude?” he asks. “Go ahead,” I say. I hear the glamour enter his voice, heady and seductive and more powerful than I expected. “Crawl to me,” he says with a grin. Embarrassment pinks my cheeks. I stay where I am, looking at all their faces. “Satisfied?” The Bomb nods. “You’re not charmed.

JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE PLEASE JUDE

I hope Cardan misses me. page 225

I think of Madoc, dozing away upstairs, all his dreams of murder. I think of Oriana and Oak being forced apart for years. I think of Cardan and how he will hate me. I think of what it means to make myself the villain of the piece. "For the next full minute, I command you not to move," I whisper back.

¨But i am going to take out her stitches, and I dont think youd want to watch that.¨ ¨Oh I dont know,¨ I say. ¨Maybe he´d like to hear me scream.¨ ¨I would,¨ Cardan says, standing. ¨And perhaps one day I will.¨ On his way out, his hand goes to my hair. A light touch, barely there, and then gone. Page 166

We have lived in our armor for so long, you and I. And now I am not sure if either of us knows how to remove it.” — “I think of his riddle. How do people like us take off our armor? One piece at a time.

I hate him more than all the others. I hate him so much that sometimes when i look at him I can hardly breathe. page 30

Have I told you how hideous you look tonight?" Cardan asks, leaning back in the elaborately carved chair, the warmth of his words turning the question into something like a compliment. "No," I say, glad to be annoyed back into the present. "Tell me." "I cannot," he says, then frowns.

Jude, you cant really think I dont know its you. I knew it was you from the moment you stepped into the brugh. Page 69

Instead of being afraid, I will become something to fear.

I hate you," I whisper before he can speak. He tilts my face to his. "Say it again," he says as the imps comb my hair and place the ugly, stinking crown on my head. His voice is low. The words are for me alone. I pull out of his grip, but not before I see his expression. He looks as he did when he was forced to answer my questions, when he admitted his desire for me. He looks as though he's confessing.

To the High Queen of Elfhame, Above me is the same silvery moon that shines down on you. Looking at it makes me recall the glint of your blade pressed against my throat and other romantic moments. I do not know what keeps you from returning to the High Court—whether it is vexation with me, or whether, having spent time in the mortal world, you have come to believe that a life free of the Folk is better than one ruling over them. In my most wretched hours, I believe you will never come back. Why would you, save for your ambition? You have always known exactly what I am and seen all my failings, all my weaknesses and scars. I flattered myself that at moments you had feelings for me other than contempt, but even were that true, they would be but watered wine beside the feast of your other, greater desires. And yet my heart is buried with you in the strange soil of the mortal world, as it was drowned with you in the cold waters of the Undersea. It was yours before I could admit it, and yours it shall ever remain. Cardan

That´s one reason I didnt want to believe you´d joined up with Madoc. The other is that i want you here by my side, as my queen. Page 163

¨You really do want me.¨ I say, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath as it hitches. ¨And you hate it.¨ page 307

What is a king without a crown? That’s a riddle, but one to which we all know the answer: no king at all.

Jude, he'd said, running a hand up my calf, are you afraid of me?

My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned.

¨Jude Duarte, you will leave the High Kings side,¨ Balekin says. At that tone, Cardan´s focus narrows. ¨She will not,¨ he says. Page 287

Never is like forever, I think, and then am angry to be reminded of anything Cardan has ever said, especially now.

He reaches up and presses my hand to his face. ¨Its funny, isnt it, how i mocked you for your mortality when you´re certain to outlive me.¨ ¨You´re not going to die,¨ I insist. Page 289

I hate you," I whisper before he can speak. He tilts my face to his. "Say it again," he says as the imps comb my hair and place the ugly, stinking crown on my head.

She didnt have to command me, Jude. She didnt have to use any magic. I trust you. I trusted you. Page 300

Let Cardan not be shot. Let the Ghost be clumsy. Let me get inside easily. Let me stop him. I do not pause to ask myself to ask why I am in such a panic to save someone for whom I swore I rooted out every feeling. I will not think about that. Page 141

Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It’s disgusting, and I can’t stop. - Cardan Greenbriar

that's my wife!

What was it like?" I ask. "Being a serpent." He hesitates. "It was like being trapped in the dark," he says. "I was alone, and my instinct was to lash out. I was perhaps not entirely an animal, but neither was I myself. I could not reason. There was only feelings--hatred and terror and the desire to destroy." I start to speak, but he stops me with a gesture. "And you." He looks at me, his lips curving in something that's not quite a smile; it's more and less than that. "I knew little else, but I always knew you." And when he kisses me, I feel as though I can finally breathe again.

I hate the way I cling to him, the nails of one hand digging into his back, my thoughts splintering, and the single last thing in my head: that I like him better than I've ever liked anyone and that of all the things he's ever done to me, making me like him so much is by far the worst.

The Roach shakes his head. “I can learn from Jude’s example, though. I can ask for a promise. If we’re spotted, if we’re set upon, promise to go back to Elfhame immediately. You must do everything in your power to get to safety, no matter what.” Cardan glances toward me, as though for help. When I am silent, he frowns, annoyed with both of us. “Although I am wearing the cloak Mother Marrow made me, the one that will turn any blade, I still promise to run, tail between my legs. And since I have a tail, that should be amusing for everyone. Are you satisfied?

I imagine what it would be like to have my own crown, my own power. Maybe I wouldnt have to be afraid to love him. Page 305

You may win in the end, you may ensorcell me and hurt me and humiliate me, but I will make sure you lose everything I can take from you on the way down.

El te odia. Incluso si te desea, te odia. Tal vez te odia más por eso.

Jude Duarte, you will leave the High King's side,' Balekin says. At that tone, Cardan's focus narrows. I can see him straining to concentrate. 'She will not,' he says.

I don't know what to apologise for first,' I say. 'Cutting off your head or hesitating so long to do it. I didn't want to lose what little there was left of you. And I can't quite think past how wonderous it is that you're alive.' 'You don't know how long I've waited to hear those words,' he says. 'You don't want me dead.' 'If you joke about this, I am going to-' 'Kill me?' he asks, raising both black brows. I think I might hate him after all.

¨Kiss me again,¨ he says, drunk and foolish. ¨Kiss me until I am sick of it.¨ I feel those words, feel them like a kick to the stomach. He sees my expression and laughs, a sound of full mockery. I cant tell which of us he´s laughing at. ¨He hates you. Even if he wants you, he hates you. Maybe he hates you the more for it.¨

It's ridiculous the way everyone acts like killing a king is going to make someone better at being one," Vivi says. "Imagine if, in the mortal world, a lawyer passed the bar by killing another lawyer.

You will make an interesting High King,' I tell him. He looks alarmed. 'I most definitely will not. The Folk adore Cardan and they're terrified of my sister, two excellent things. I hope they rule Elfhame for a thousand years and then pass it down to one of a dozen offspring. No need for me to be involved.

¨Jude,¨ he´d said, running a hand up my calf, ¨are you afraid of me?¨ page 207

¨I will lie down,¨ he says, letting me guide him toward his enormous bed. Once there, he does not let go of my hand. ¨Ïf you lie with me.¨ Page 308

He leans in and closes his eyes. ¨Most of all, i hate you because i think of you. Often. Its disgusting, and I cant stop.¨ I am Shocked into silence.” page 307

Si tú eres la enfermedad, supongo que no puedes ser también la cura.

Kiss me. Kiss me until I'm sick of it.” ― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

,,,I decided to play the hero. See how it felt. To try.' 'And?' she asks. 'I didn't like it,' he admits. 'Henceforth, I think we should consider our roles as monarchs to be largely decorative. It would be better for the low Courts and the solitary Folk to work things out on their own.' 'I think you have iron poisoning,' she tells him, which could possibly be true but is still a hurtful thing to say when he is making perfect sense.

I look at him again, at his soft mouth and his high cheekbones, at the cruel beauty of his face. page 142

Cardan's fingers dig into my back. He's trembling, and whether it is from ebbing magic or horror, I am not sure. But he holds me as though I am the only solid thing in the world.

Well, wife,' he says to me, a chill in his voice. 'It seems you have kept at least one secret from your dowry.

¨You come from nothing, and it is to nothing you will return,¨ he whispers against my neck. ( judes dream ) Page 48

You didn't hear the story I told," he goes on. "A shame. It featured a handsome boy with a heart of stone and a natural aptitude for villainy. Everything you could like." She laughs. "You really are terrible, you know that? I don't even understand why the things you say make me smile." He lets himself lean against her, lets himself hear the warmth in her voice. "There is one thing I did like about playing the hero. The only good bit. And that was not having to be terrified for you." "The next time you want to make a point," Jude says, "I beg you not to make it so dramatically." His shoulder hurts, and she may be right about the iron poisoning. He certainly feels as though his head is swimming. But he smiles up at the trees, the looping electrical lines, the streaks of clouds. "So long as you're begging," he says.

She's going to want to wear your skull for a hat,' Oak warns. There is an uncomfortable shifting among the ex-falcons. Perhaps they are recalling their own choice to denounce her, their own punishment. 'And Cardan is going to laugh and laugh when she does.

There you are,' Cardan says as I take my place beside him. 'How has the night been going for you? Mine has been full of dull conversations about how my head is going to find itself on a spike.

My palm is smeared with gold. When I look at him, I see the remaining powder has been smudged over his cheekbones by the strike of my hand. I cant stop staring at it, cant stop thinking about the way he looked at me when he caught my fingers. That´s the only excuse I have for not noticing that hes led me back to his rooms, which are, I suppose, also mine since we´re married. Page 163

Though I would not delight to see the straps sink into your skin, neither would I mourn.' 'Enough blustering,' he says. 'You've already won. Look.' He takes me by the shoulders and turns me so that I can see where the great body of the serpent lies. A jolt of horror goes through me, and I try to wrench out of his grip. And then I notice the fighting has ebbed, the Folk are staring. From within the body of the creature emanates a glow. And then, through that, Cardan steps out. Cardan, naked and covered in blood. Alive. Only out of his spilled blood can a great ruler rise. ... Cardan takes a step forward and little cracks appear from his footfalls. Fissures in the very earth. He speaks with a boom that echoes through everyone gathered there. 'The curse is broken. The king is returned.' He's every bit as terrifying as any serpent. I don't care. I run into his arms.

I raise a plastic glass. 'To family.' 'And Faerieland,' says Taryn, raising hers. 'And pizza,' says Oak. 'And stories,' says Heather. 'And new beginnings,' says Vivi. Cardan smiles, his gaze on me. 'And scheming great schemes.' To family and Faerieland and pizza and stories and new beginnings and scheming great schemes. I can toast to that.

I exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world. Until and unless she is pardoned by the crown, let her not step one foot in Faerie or forfeit her life.' 'I gasp. 'But you can't do that!' He looks at me for a long moment, but his gaze is mild, as though he's expecting me to be fine with exile. As though I am nothing more than one of his petitioners. As though I am nothing at all. 'Of course I can,' he replies. ... Our eyes meet, and the odd smile on his face is clearly meant for me. I remember what it was to hate him with the whole of my heart, but I've remembered too late.

Algunos entre nosotros no encuentran a los mortales hermosos. De hecho, algunos de ustedes podrían jurar que Jude es poco atractiva. Pero yo creo que es sólo que su belleza es... única. Enloquecedora. Alarmante. Angustiante.

He takes a step toward me. ¨The other night---¨"I cut him off.¨I did it for the same reason that you did. To get it out of my system.¨ ¨And is it?¨ he asks. ¨Out of you system?¨ I look him in the face and lie. ¨Yes.¨ Page 181

The very thought of being there, of seeing Cardan, speeds my heart. Page 39

I wish I could punch him in his smug face and show him how undeterred I am by his exile.

You want me to stay the heir while you two go off somewhere? And then I can step down, be de-princed, whatever?” “Exactly that,” says Cardan. “Like on a vacation?” Cardan snorts. “I don’t understand,” Oak says. “Where are you going?” “A diplomatic mission,” says Cardan, leaning back on the cushions. “After that last little rescue, Nicasia has demanded we honor our treaty, meet her suitors, and witness the contest for her hand and crown. And so Jude and I are headed to the Undersea, where we will go to a lot of parties and try very hard not to die.

I can feel the moment he gives in and gives up, pulling me to him despite the threat of the knife. He kisses me hard, with a kind of devouring desperation, fingers digging into my hair. Our mouths slide together, teeth over lips over tongues. Desire hits me like a kick to the stomach. Its like fighting, except what we´re for is to crawl inside each other´s skin. page 309

¨Tell me again what you said at the revel,¨ he says, climbing over me,his body against mine. ¨What?¨ I can barely think. ¨That you hate me,¨ he says, his voice hoarse.¨Tell me that you hate me.¨ ¨I hate you,¨ I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what i really feel. ¨I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.¨He kisses me harder. ¨I hate you,¨ I breathe into his mouth. ¨I hate you so much that sometimes I cant think of anything else.¨ At that, he makes a harsh, low sound. One of his hands slides over my stomach, tracing the shape of my skin. He kisses me again, and its like falling off a cliff. Like a mountain slide, building momentum with ever touch, until there is only crashing destruction ahead. I have never felt anything like this. He begins to unbutton my doublet, and i try not to freeze, try not to show my inexperience. I dont want him to stop. page 144-145

I wasnt kind, Jude. Not to many people. Not to you. I wasnt sure if I wanted you or if I wanted you gone from my sight so that i would stop feeling as I did, which made me even more unkind. But when you were gone---truly gone beneath the waves---I hated myself as i never have before.

I turn away from him and walk, swiftly and completely directionless through the garden. He runs after me, grabbing my arm. I haul around and slap him. Its a stinging blow, smearing the gold on his cheekbone and causing his skin to redden. We stare at each other for long moments, breathing hard. His eyes are bright with something entirely different from anger. I am in over my head. I am drowning. ¨I didnt mean to hurt you.¨ He grabs my hand,possibly to keep me from hitting him again. Our fingers lace together. ¨No, it not that, not exactly. I didnt think I could hurt you. And i never thought you would be afraid of me.¨ ¨And did you like it?¨"I ask. He looks away from me then, and I have my answer. Maybe he doesnt want to admit to that impulse, but he has it. ¨Well, I was hurt, and yes, you scare me.¨ Even as I am speaking, I wish I could snatch back the words. Perhaps it is exhaustion or having been so close to death, but the truth pours out of me in a devastating rush. ¨You´ve always scared me. You gave me every reason to fear your capriciousness and your cruelty. I was afraid of you even when you were tied to that chair in the court of shadows. I was afraid of you when i had a knife to your throat. And i am scared of you now.¨ Cardan looks more suprised then he did when I slapped him. He was always a symbol of everything about Elfhame that I couldnt have, everything that would never want me. And telling him this feels a little like throwing off a heavy weight, except that weight is supposed to be my armor, and without it, I am afraid I am going to be entirely exposed. But i keep talking anyway, as though I no longer have control of my tongue. ¨You despised me. When you said you wanted me, it felt like the world has turned upside down. Page 160-161

My gaze cuts toward Cardan. I walk over to him, squat down, and begin to prize off his royal ring. He tries to pull his hand out og my grasp, but hes tied in such a way that he cant. I yank it off his finger. I hate how i feel around him, the irrational panic when i touch his skin. page 262

¨I hate you,¨ I whisper before he can speak. He tilts my face to his. ¨Say it again,¨ he says as the imps comb my hair and place the ugly, stinking crown on my head. His voice is low. The words are for me alone. I pull out of his grip, but not before I see his expression. He looks as he did when he was forced to answer my questions, when he admitted his desire for me. He looks as though he´s confessing. page 104-105

Jude never loved Locke.' My face feels hot, but my shame is an excellent cover to hide behind. 'She loved someone else. He's the one she'd want dead.' I am pleased to see Cardan flinch. 'Enough,' he says before I can go on. 'I have heard all I care to on this subject-

The hardest thing- the impossible thing- is to get past the memory of Cardan telling me he loved me. He said those words, and I didn't answer him. I thought there would be time. And I was happy- despite everything- I was happy, just before everything went so terribly wrong. We won. Everything was going to work out. And he loved me.

Have I ever told you how much you sound like Madoc when you talk about murder?' Cardan said, opening one eye. 'Because you do.' Oak expected his sister to be angry, but she only laughed. 'That must be what you like about me.' 'That you're terrifying?' he asked, his drawl becoming exaggeratedly languorous, almost a purr. 'I adore it.

But how did she make you agree?' I demand. 'She had no power. She could pretend to be me, but she couldn't force you-' He puts his head in his long-fingered hands. 'She didn't have to command me, Jude. She didn't have to use any magic. I trust you. I trusted you.' And I trusted Taryn.

¨Love is stupid. All we do is break one another´s hearts.¨ ¨Yeah,¨ I say, thinking again of Cardan. page 31-32

This is my room. And that's my wife.

He continues looking at me in this strange way, as though he's never seen me before or as though he thought he'd never see me again.

The last room Cardan occupied caught fire,' I call back to the Bomb. 'Let me rephrase. It caught fire because he lit it on fire.

We're enemies, no matter how many jokes he tells or how friendly he seems. Charmers are charming, but that's all they are.

¨Hear my judgment,¨ Cardan says, authority ringing in his voice. ¨I exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world. Until and unless she is pardoned by the crown, let her not step one foot in Faerie or forfeit her life.¨ I gasp. ¨But you cant do that!¨ He looks at me for a long moment, but his gaze is mild, as though hes expecting me to be fine with exile. As though I am nothing more than one of his petitioners. As though i am nothing at all. ¨Of course I can,¨ he replies. ¨But im the Queen of Faerie,¨ I shout, and for a moment, there is silence. Then everyone around me begins to laugh. I can feel my cheeks heat. Tears of frustration and fury prick my eyes as, a beat too late, Cardan laughs with them. At that moment, knights clap their hands on my wrists, Sir Rannoch pulls me down from the horse. For a mad moment i consider fighting him as though two dozen knights arent around us. ¨Deny it, then,¨ I yell. ¨Deny me!¨ He cannot, of course, so he does not. Page 316-317

It feels like a geas. It has all the sinister pleasure of sneaking out of the house, all the revolting satisfaction of stealing. It reminds me of the moment before I slammed a blade through my hand, amazed at my own capacity for self-betrayal.

I didn't enjoy being a snake, and yet I appear to be doomed to be reminded of it for all eternity,' Cardan was saying, black curls falling across his face. He held a three-pronged fork aloft, as though to emphasise his point. 'The excess of songs hasn't helped, nor has their longevity. It's been what? Eight years? Nine? Truly, the celebratory air about the whole business has been excessive. You'd think I never did a more popular thing than sit in the dark on a throne and bite people who annoyed me. I could have always done that. I could do that now.' 'Bite people?' echoed Jude from the other end of the table. Cardan grinned at her. 'Yes, if that's what they like.' He snapped his teeth at the air as though to demonstrate. 'No one is interested in that,' Jude said, shaking her head.

And I decided to play the hero. See how it felt. To try." "And?" she asks. "I didn't like it," he admits. "Henceforth, I think we should consider our roles as monarchs to be largely decorative. It would be better for the low Courts and the solitary Folk to work things out on their own." "I think you have iron poisoning," she tells him, which could possibly be true but is still a hurtful thing to say when he is making perfect sense.

-if you live your life always afraid, always with danger on your heels, it is not so difficult to pretend away more danger. I know that, but I didn't think, of all people, Cardan would, too.

... all I want to do is walk in to his arms. I want to drown my worries in his embrace. I want him to say something totally unlike himself, about things being okay. 'Nice dress,' he says instead.

I wanted to show you that you could trust me, that you didn't need to give me orders for me to do things. I wanted to show you that I believed you'd thought it all through. But that's no way to rule. And it's not really even trust, when someone can order you to do it anyway.

Jude and I had a misunderstanding,” Cardan says carefully. “But we’re not enemies. And I am not your enemy, either, Taryn.” “You think everything’s a game,” she says. “You and Locke.” “Unlike Locke, I never thought love was a game,” he says. “You may accuse me of much, but not that.

High King Cardans presence seems to infect the very air I breathe. For a wild moment, I consider turning and getting out of there before he spots me. I dont know if I can do this. I feel a little dizzy. I dont know if I can look at him and not show on my face any of what I am feeling. Page 60

You really hate me, don't you?' he asks, his smile growing. 'Almost as much as you hate me,' I say, thinking of the page with my name scratched on it. Thinking of the way he looked at me when he was drunk in the hedge maze. The way he's looking at me now. He lets go of my hand. 'Until we spar again,' he says, making a bow that I cannot help feel is nothing but mockery.

...he kisses me, sweet and raw. 'I missed you,' I whisper against his skin and feel dizzy with the intimacy of the admission, feel more naked than when he could see every inch of me. 'In the mortal world, when I thought you were my enemy, I still missed you.' 'My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned.' He pulls my body against his, cradling my head against his chest.

The knife is my hand is useless. I throw it at the desk, barely registering as the point sinks into the wood. He pulls back from me at the sound, startled. His mouth is pink, his eyes dark. He sees the knife and barks out a startled laugh. page 309

I hate being unwell,' he says. 'You're not sick,' Jude tells him. 'You are recovering from being stabbed- or rather, throwing yourself on a knife.' 'You would have done the same for me,' he says airily. 'I would not,' Jude snaps. 'Liar,' Cardan says fondly.

Exactly,' Cardan says, reaching out a finger to trace the shape of my ear. The curve, I realise. I shudder, eyes closing against the hot spike of shame. He keeps talking, but he seems to realise what he's been doing and snatches his hand away. Now we're both ashamed.

This is what you wanted, isn't it? he asks. What you sacrificed everything for. Go on. It's all yours.

If I am undressed, he will know me.

He's so beautiful, so perfectly, horribly, inhumanely beautiful that I can barely breathe.

His every movement is languorous. It feels dangerous to rest my gaze on him for too long, as though he is so thoroughly debauched that it might be contagious.

Jude frowned. “If she steps from that Citadel, I will cut her throat from ear to ear.” Cardan drew a dramatic line across his throat and then slumped exaggeratedly over, eyes closed, mouth open. Playing dead. Jude scowled. “You need not make fun.” “Have I ever told you how much you sound like Madoc when you talk about murder?” Cardan said, opening one eye. “Because you do.” Oak expected his sister to be angry, but she only laughed. “That must be what you like about me.” “That you’re terrifying?” he asked, his drawl becoming exaggeratedly languorous, almost a purr. “I adore it.” She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. The king’s arm came around her, and she shivered once, as though letting something fall away.

Cardan lies on the rug with one arm propping up his head and the other slung across Jude's waist. He understands everything and nothing he sees on the screen- just as he understands everything and nothing about being here with her family. He feels like a feral cat that might bite out of habit.

The problem with coming through something terrible and big is that afterward, you're left feeling all the feelings that you shoved down and pushed away. For many long days, I have been terrified, and now, when I ought to be feeling great, what I want to do is hide under a table in the brugh with Cardan until I can finally convince myself he's all right. And maybe make out with his face, if he's feeling up to that.

You didn’t trust me.” “Having spent a great deal of time playing the fool myself,” Cardan says, “I recognized your game. Not at first, but long before Jude. She didn’t want to believe me, and I am never going to tire of crowing about being right.” “So you didn’t think I was really allied with Randalin?” Cardan smiles. “No,” he says. “But I wasn’t certain which of your allies were actually on your side. And I was rather hoping you’d let us lock you up and protect you.” “You could have given me some sort of hint!” Oak says. Cardan raises a single eyebrow. Oak shakes his head. “Yes, well, fine. I could have done the same. And fine, you were losing blood.” Cardan makes a gesture as though tossing off Oak’s words. “I have little experience of dispensing brotherly wisdom, but I know a great deal about mistakes. And about hiding behind a mask.” He saluted with his wineglass. “Some might say that I still do, but they would be wrong. To those I love, I am myself. Too much myself, sometimes.” Oak laughs. “Jude wouldn’t say that.” Cardan takes a deep swallow of plum-dark wine, looking pleased with himself. “She would but she’d be lying. But, most important”—he raises a single finger— “I knew what you were up to before she did.” The a second. “And if you decide you want to risk your life, perhaps you could also risk a little personal discomfort and let your family in on your plans.” Oak lets out a long sigh. “I will take that under advisement.

Cardan stands over me. His jacket is thrown on a nearby chair, the velvet soaked through with some dark substance. His white sleeves are rolled up, and he's washing my hands with a wet cloth. Getting the blood off them. I try to speak, but my mouth feels like it is full of honey. I slide back into the syrupy dark.

He cuts his gaze toward his unpredictable mortal High Queen, whose wild brown hair is blowing around her face, whose amber eyes are alight when she looks at him. They are two people who ought to have, by all rights, remained enemies forever. He can't believe his good fortune, can't trace the path that got him here.

Marry me,' he says. 'Become the Queen of Elfhame.' I feel a cold shock come over me, as though someone has told a particularly cruel joke, with me its target. As though someone looked in to my heart and saw the most ridiculous, most childish desire there and used it against me. 'But you can't.' 'I can,' he says. 'Kings and queens don't often marry for something other than a political alliance, true, but consider this a version of that. And were you queen, you wouldn't need my obedience. You could issue all your own orders. And I would be free.

I feel a guard's hand close on my arm. Then Cardan's voice comes. "Do not touch her." A terrible silence follows. I wait for him to pronounce judgement on me. Whatever he commands will be done. His power is absolute. I don't even have the strength to fight back. "Whatever can you mean?" Randalin says. "She's-" "She is my wife," Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. "The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile.

The problem with coming through something terrible and big is that afterward, you're left feeling all the feelings that you shoved down and pushed away. For many long days, I have been terrified, and now, when I ought to be feeling great, what i want to do is hide under a table in the brugh with Cardan until i can finally convince myself he's all right.

Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It's disgusting, and I can't stop.' I am shocked in to silence. 'Maybe you should shoot me after all,' he says, covering his face with one long-fingered hand. ... He doesn't look up as I walk around the desk to him. I place the tip of the blade against the bottom of his chin, as I did the day before in the hall, and I tilt his face toward mine. He shifts his gaze with obvious reluctance. The horror and shame on his face look entirely too real. Suddenly, I am not so sure what to believe. I lean toward him, close enough for a kiss. His eyes widen. The look in his face is some commingling of panic and desire. It is a heady feeling, having power over someone. Over Cardan, who I never thought had any feelings at all. 'You really do want me,' I say, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath as it hitches. 'And you hate it.' I change the angle of the knife, turning it so it's against his neck. He doesn't look nearly as alarmed by that as I might expect. Not nearly as alarmed as when I bring my mouth to his.

We should have called truce, he'd said, brushing back his ink-black hair impatiently. We should have called truce long before this. But neither of us called it, not then, not after. Jude, he'd said, running a hand up my calf, are you afraid of me?

Oak got mixed up with the wrong people, that’s all,” Jude said wearily. Cardan smiled, a curl of black hair falling in front of his face. “He’s more like you than you want to see. Clever. Ambitious.” “If what’s happening is anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” Jude said with another sigh. “For not ordering Lady Nore’s execution when I had the chance.” “All the obscene snake songs must have been greatly distracting,” Cardan said lightly, moving on from the discussion of Oak. “Generosity of spirit is so uncharacteristic in you.

I put both of my hands on the desk. 'Just tell me why you hate me. Once and for all.' His long fingers smooth over the wood of Dain's desk. 'You really want honesty?' 'I am the one with the crossbow, not shooting you because you promised me answers. What do you think?' 'Very well.' He fixes me with a spiteful look. 'I hate you because your father loves you even though you're a human brat born to his unfaithful wife, while mine never cared for me, though I am a prince of Faerie. I hate you because you don't have a brother who beats you. And I hate you because Locke used you and your sister to make Nicasia cry after he stole her from me. Besides which, after the tournament, Balekin never failed to throw you in my face as the mortal who could best me.' ... 'Is that all?' I demand. 'Because it's ridiculous. You can't be jealous of me. You don't have to live at the sufferance of the same person who murdered your parents. You don't have to stay angry because if you don't, there's a bottomless well of fear ready to open up under you.' I stop speaking abruptly, surprised at myself. I said I wasn't going to be charmed, but I let him trick me in to opening up to him. As I think that, Cardan's smile turns in to a more familiar sneer. 'Oh, really? I don't know about being angry? I don't know about being afraid? You're not the one bargaining for your life.' 'That's really why you hate me?' I demand. 'Only that? There's no better reason?' For a moment, I think he's ignoring me, but then I realise he's not answering me because he can't lie and he doesn't want to tell the truth. 'Well?' I say, lifting the crossbow again, glad to have a reason to reassert my position as the person in charge. 'Tell me!' He leans in and closes his eyes. 'Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It's disgusting, and I can't stop.' I am shocked in to silence. 'Maybe you should shoot me after all,' he says, covering his face with one long-fingered hand.

You're going to be okay,' I say. 'You know,' he says, hanging on to me, 'that ought to be reassuring. But when mortals say it, it doesn't mean the same thing as when the Folk do, does it? For you, it's an appeal. A kind of hopeful magic. You say I will be well because you fear I won't be.

He waves away a knight who proffers his cloak, despite being clad only in blood. 'I haven't worn anything in days,' the High King drawls, and if there is something brittle in his eyes, nearly everyone is too awed to notice. 'I don't see why I ought to start now.' 'Modesty?' I force out, playing along, surprised he can joke about the curse, or anything. He gives me a dazzling, insouciant smile. The kind of smile you can hide behind. 'Every part of me is a delight.' My chest hurts, looking at him. I feel like I can't breathe. Though he is in front of me, the pain of losing him hasn't faded.

Vivi blows a noisemaker. 'Here,' she says, passing out paper crowns for us to wear. 'This is ridiculous,' I complain, but put mine on. Cardan looks at his reflection in the door of the microwave and adjusts his crown so it's at an angle. I roll my eyes, and he gives me a quick grin. And my heart hurts a little because we are all together and safe, and it wasn't something I'd known how to want. And Cardan looks a little shy in the face of all this happiness, as unused to it as I am. There will be struggles to come, I am certain, but right now I am equally sure we will find our way through them.

It's okay to want something that's going to hurt, I remind myself. I move toward him, so we are close enough to touch. He takes my hand in his, fingers lacing together, and bends towards me. There is plenty of time for me to pull away from the kiss, but I don't. I want him to kiss me. My weariness evaporates as his lips press against mine. Over and over, one kiss sliding in to the next. 'You looked like a knight in a story tonight,' he says softly against my neck. 'Possibly a filthy story.' I kick him in the leg, and he kisses me again, harder. We stagger against the wall, and I pull his body to mine. My fingers glide up under his shirt, tracing up his spine to the wings of his shoulder blades. His tail lashes back and forth, the furred end stroking over the back of my calf.

I let go of him and remain standing. I promised myself I would do this, if I ever had the chance again.. I promised I would do this the first moment I could. 'I love you,' I say, the words coming out in an unintelligible rush. Cardan looks taken aback. Or possibly I spoke so fast he's not even sure what I said. 'You need not say it out of pity,' he says finally, with great deliberateness. 'Or because I was under a curse. I have asked you to lie to me in the past, in this very room, but I would beg you not to lie now.' My cheeks heat at the memory of those lies. 'I have not made myself easy to love,' he says, and I hear the echo of his mother's words in his. When I imagined telling him, I thought I would say the words, and it would be like pulling off a bandage- painful and swift. But I didn't think he would doubt me. 'I first started liking you when we went to talk to the rulers of the low Courts,' I say. 'You were funny, which was weird. And when we went to Hollow Hall, you were clever. I kept remembering how you'd been the one to get us out of the brugh after Dain's coronation, right before I put the knife to your throat.' He doesn't try to interrupt, so I have to choice but to barrel on. 'After I tricked you into being High King,' I say. 'I thought once you hated me, I could go back to hating you. But I didn't. And I felt so stupid. I thought I would get my heart broken. I thought it was a weakness that you would use against me. But then you saved me from the Undersea when it would have been much more convenient to just leave me to rot. After that, I started to hope my feelings were returned. But then there was the exile-' I take a ragged breath. 'I hid a lot, I guess. I thought if I didn't, if I let myself love you, I would burn up like a match. Like the whole matchbook.' 'But now you've explained it,' he says. 'And you do love me.' 'I love you,' I confirm. 'Because I am clever and funny,' he says, smiling. 'You didn't mention my handsomeness.' 'Or your deliciousness,' I say. 'Although those are both good qualities.' He pulls me to him, so that we're both lying on the couch. I look down at the blackness of his eyes and the softness of his mouth. I wipe a fleck of dried blood from the top of one pointed ear. 'What was it like?' I ask. 'Being a serpent.' He hesitates. 'It was like being trapped in the dark,' he says. 'I was alone, and my instinct was to lash out. I was perhaps not entirely an animal, but neither was I myself. I could not reason. There was only feelings- hatred and terror and the desire to destroy.' I start to speak, but he stops me with a gesture. 'And you.' He looks at me, his lips curving in something that's not quite a smile; it's more and less than that. 'I knew little else, but I always knew you.' And when he kisses me, I feel as though I can finally breathe again.

Cardan looks at me with helpless rage... The fury in his eyes is familiar, the glitter of them like banked fire, like coals burning hotter than flames ever could. This time I deserve it. I promised he was going to be able to walk away from the Court and all its manipulations. I promised he would be free from all this. I lied.

Cardan half-turns, and I shove him so hard that his back hits one of the trees. His eyes go wide. ¨I dont know what you said to her, but you dont ever go near my sister again,¨ I tell him,my hand still on the front of his velvet doublet.¨You gave her your word.¨ I can feel the eyes of all the other students on me. Everyones breath is drawn. For a moment, Cardan just stares at me with stupid, cow-black eyes. Then one corner of his mouth curls. ¨Oh,¨ He says. ¨You´re going to regret doing that.¨ page 66

I am going to give you orders.' 'Oh, indeed,' he said. On his brow, the gold crown of Elfhame caught the light of the sunset. I took a breath and began. 'You're never to deny me an audience or give an order to keep me from your side.' 'Whysoever would I want you to leave my side?' he asked, voice dry. 'And you may never order me arrested or imprisoned or killed,' I said, ignoring him. 'Not hurt. Not even detained.' 'What about asking a servant to put a very sharp pebble in your boot?' he asked, expression annoyingly serious.

Tell me again what you said at the revel,' he says, climbing over me, his body against mine. 'What?' I can barely think. 'That you hate me,' he says, his voice hoarse. 'Tell me what you hate me.' 'I hate you,' I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel. 'I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.' He kisses me harder. 'I hate you,' I breathe in to his mouth. 'I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.' At that, he makes a harsh, low sound.

He gives me one of his most awful smiles. 'I suppose she'll have to be searched.' ... 'My husband was murdered,' I say. 'And whether or not you believe me, I do mourn him. I will not make a spectacle of myself for the Court's amusement when his body is barely cold.' Unfortunately, the High King's smile only grows. 'As you wish. Then I suppose I will have to examine you along in my chambers.

You want to know what I did to make him raise me up?' I ask, leaning toward her, close enough that she can feel the warmth of my breath. 'I kissed him on the mouth, and then I threatened to kiss him some more if he didn't do exactly what I wanted.' 'Liar,' she hisses. 'If you're such good friends,' I say, repeating her own words back to her with malicious satisfaction, 'why don't you ask him?

Cardan gazes at a rosebush with petals so black and glossy they look like patent leather. 'It was terrifying,' he says, 'watching you fall. I mean, you're generally terrifying, but I am unused to fearing for you. And then, I was furious. I am not sure I have ever been that angry before.' 'Mortals are fragile,' I say. 'Not you,' he says in a way that sounds a little like a lament. 'You never break.' Which is ridiculous, as hurt as I am. I feel like a constellation of wounds, held together with string and stubbornness. Still, I like hearing it. I like everything he's saying all too well. That boy is your weakness.

He stalks toward me, close enough that I can feel his breath stirring my hair. ¨Are you commanding me?¨ ¨No¨ I say, startled and unable to meet his gaze. ¨Of course not.¨ His fingers come to my chin, tilting my head so I am looking up into his black eyes, the rage in them as hot as coals. ¨You just think I ought to. That I can. That i be good at it. Very well, Jude. Tell me how its done. Do you think she´d like it if i came to her like this, if i looked deeply into her eyes?¨ My whole body is alert, alive with sick desire, embarassing in its intensity. He knows. I know he knows. ¨Probably,¨ I say, my voice coming out a little shakily. ¨Whatever it is you usually do.¨ ¨Oh, come now,¨ he says, his voice full of barely controlled fury. ¨If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit on your advice.¨ His beringed fingers trace over my cheek, trace the line of my lip and down my throat. I feel dizzy and overwhelmed. ¨Should I touch her like this?¨ he asks, lashes lowered. The shadows limn his face, casting his cheekbones into stark relief. ¨I dont know,¨ I say, but my voice betrays me. It´s all wrong, high and breathless. He presses his mouth to my ear, kissing me there. His hands skim over my shoulders, making me shiver. ¨And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her? I can feel his mouth shape the light words against my skin. ¨Do you think it would work?¨ I dig my fingernails into the meat of my palm to keep from moving against him. My whole body is trembling with tension. ¨Yes.¨ Then his mouth is against mine, and my lips part. I close my eyes against what im about to do. My fingers reach up to tangle in the black curls of his hair. He doesnt kiss me as though hes angry; his kiss is soft, yearning. Everything slows, goes liquid and hot. I can barely think. Ive wanted this and feared it, and now its happening, I dont know how i will ever want anything else. We stumble back to the low couch. He leans me against the cushions, and I pull him down over me. His expression mirrors my own, suprise and a little horror. Page 143-144

Inside the carriage, Cardan slumps. I stare at him, at the blood drying in tide lines over his body and crusting in his curls like tiny garnets. I force myself to look out the window instead. 'How long have I-' he hesitates. 'Not even three days,' I tell him. 'Barely any time at all.' I do not mention how long it has seemed. Nor do I say how he might have been trapped as a serpent for all time, bridled and bound. Or dead.

You should go.' 'This is my room,' he points out, affronted. 'And that's my wife.' 'So you keep telling everyone,' the Bomb says. 'But I am going to take out her stitches, and I don't think you want to watch that.' 'Oh, I don't know,' I say. 'Maybe he'd like to hear my scream.' 'I would,' Cardan says, standing. 'And perhaps one day I will.' On the way out, his hand goes to my hair. A light touch, barely there, and then gone.

Cardan comes over, stepping on my star chart, kicking over the ink-pot with his silver-tipped boots, sending the blood spilling across the paper, blotting out my marks. 'Come with me,' he says imperiously. 'I knew you liked her,' says Locke. 'That's why I had to have her first. Do you remember the party in my maze garden? How I kissed her while you watched?' 'I recall that your hands were on her, but her eyes were on me,' Cardan returns. 'That's not true!' I insist, but I remember Cardan on a blanket with a daffodil-haired faerie girl. She pressed her lips to the edge of his boot, and another girl kissed his throat. His gaze had turned to me when one of them began kissing his mouth. His eyes were coal-bright, wet as tar. The memory comes with the slide of Locke's palm over my back, heat in my cheeks, and the feeling my skin was too tight, that everything was too much.

Yes,' I say, but my voice fails me. It comes out all breath. 'Yes.' He leans forward in the chair, eyebrows raised, but he doesn't wear his usual arrogant mien. I cannot read his expression. 'To what are you agreeing?' 'Okay,' I say. 'I'll do it. I'll marry you.' He gives me a wicked grin. 'I had no idea it would be such a sacrifice.' Frustrated, I flop over on the couch. 'That's not what I mean.' 'Marriage to the High King of Elfhame is largely thought to be a prize, an honour of which few are worthy.' I suppose his sincerity could last but only so long. I roll my eyes, grateful that he's acting like himself again, so I can better pretend not to be overawed by what's about to happen.

The off curve of her ear was what he had noticed first. A roundness echoed in her cheeks and her mouth. Then it was the way her body looked solid, as though meant to take up space and weight in the world. When she moved, she left behind footprints in the forest floor. Because she didn't know how to glide silently, to disturb no leaf of branch. He felt smug to see how bad she was at even such an easy thing. It was only later that it disturbed him to think back on the shape of her boot in the soil, as though she was the only real thing in a land of ghosts. He had seen her before, he supposed. But at the palace school, he really looked. He noted her skirts, spattered with mud, and her hair ribbons, partially undone. He saw her twin sister, her double, as though one of them were a changeling child and not human at all. He saw the way they whispered together while they ate, smiling over private jokes. He saw the way they answered the instructors, as though they had any right to this knowledge, had any right to be sitting among their betters. To occasionally better their betters with those answers. And the one girl was good with a sword, instructed personally by the Grand General, as though she was not some by-blow of a faithless wife.

So I am going to run away from Faerie. Like you.' That's not how I'd thought of myself, as a runaway. I was someone with nowhere to go. Waiting until I was older. Or less afraid. Or more powerful. 'The Prince of Elfhame can't up and disappear.' 'They'd probably be happier if I did,' he told me. 'I'm the reason my father is in exile. The reason my mother married him in the first place. My one sister and her girlfriend had to take care of me when I was little, even though they were barely more than kids themselves. My other sister almost got killed lots of times to keep me safe. Things will be easier without me around. They'll see that.' 'They won't,' I told him, trying to ignore the intense surge of envy that came with knowing he would be missed.

Vivi and Heather take them out for bubble tea. There are no actual bubbles. Instead, he is served toothsome balls soaked in a sweet, milky tea. Vivi orders grass jelly, and Heather gets a lavender drink that is the colour of the flowers and just as fragrant. Cardan is fascinated and insists on having a sip of each. Then he eats a bite of the half-dozen types of dumplings they order- mushroom, cabbage and pork, cilantro and beef, hot-oil chicken dumplings that numb his tongue, then creamy custard to cool it, along with sweet red bean that sticks to his teeth. Heather glares at Cardan as though he bit the head off a sprite in the middle of a banquet. 'You can't eat some of a dumpling and put it back,' Oak insists. 'That's revolting.' Cardan considers villainy takes many forms, and he is good at all of them. Jude stabs the remainder of the bean bun with a single chopstick, popping it into her mouth and chewing with obvious satisfaction. 'Gooh,' she gets out when she notices the others looking at her. Vivi laughs and orders more dumplings.

The brugh is full of turned-over tables and rotting fruit. A crack runs through the ground to the split throne, with its wilted flowers. Cardan spreads his hands, and the earth heals along the seam, rock and stone bubbling up to fill it back in. Then he twists his fingers, and the divided throne grows anew, blooming with briars, sprouting into two separate thrones where there was once only one. 'Do you like it?' he asks me, which seems a little like asking if someone enjoys the crown of stars they conjured from the sky. 'Impressive,' I choke out.

His fingers come to my chin, tilting my head so I am looking up into his black eyes, the rage in them as hot as coals. 'You just think I ought to. That I can. That's I'd be good at it. Very well, Jude. Tell me how it's done. Do you think she'd like it if I came to her like this, if I looked deeply in to her eyes?' My whole body is alert, alive with sick desire, embarrassing in its intensity. He knows, I know he knows. 'Probably,' I say, my voice coming out a little shakily. 'Whatever it is you usually do.' 'Oh, come now,' he says, his voice full of barely controlled fury. 'If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit of your advice.' His beringed fingers trace over my cheek, trace the line of my lip and down my throat. I feel dizzy and overwhelmed. 'Should I took her like this?' he asks, lashes lowered. The shadows limn his face, casting his cheekbones in to stark relief. 'I don't know,' I say, but my voice betrays me. It's all wrong, high and breathless. He presses his mouth to my ear, kissing me there. His hands skim over my shoulders, making me shiver. 'And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her?' I can feel his mouth shape the light words against my skin. 'Do you think it would work?' I dig my fingernails in to the meat of my palm to keep from moving against him. My whole body is trembling with tension. 'Yes.' Then his mouth is against mine, and my lips part. I close my eyes against what I'm about to do. My fingers reach up to tangle in the black curls of his hair. He doesn't kiss me as though he's angry; his kiss is soft, yearning. Everything slows, goes liquid and hot. I can barely think. I've wanted this and feared it, and now that it's happening, I don't know how I will ever want anything else.

The parlour is as I remember it from Council meetings. It carries the scent of smoke and verbena and clover. Cardan himself lounges, his booted feet resting on a stone table carved in the shape of a griffin, claws raised to strike. He gives me a quicksilver conspiratorial grin that seems completely at odds with the way he spoke to me from the throne. 'Well,' he says, patting the couch beside him. 'Didn't you get my letters?' 'What?' I am confused enough that the word comes out like a croak. 'You never replied to a one,' he goes on. 'I began to wonder if you'd misplaced your ambition in the mortal world.' This must be a test. This must be a trap. 'Your Majesty,' I say stiffly. 'I thought you brought me here to assure yourself I had neither charm nor amulet.' A single eyebrow rises, and his smile deepens. 'I will if you like. Shall I command you to remove your clothes? I don't mind.' 'What are you doing?' I say finally, desperately. 'What are you playing at?' He's looking at me as though somehow I am the one who's behaving strangely. 'Jude, you can't really think I don't know it's you. I knew you from the moment you walked into the brugh.' I shake my head, reeling. 'That's not possible.

My hands are shaking. he captures them and kisses my knuckles with a kind of reverence. ¨I want to tell you so many lies,¨ he says. I shudder, and my heart hammers as his hands skim over my skin,one sliding between my thighs. I mirror him, fumbling with the buttons of his breeches. He helps me push them down, his tail curling against his leg then twisting to coil against mine, soft as a whisper. I reach over to slide my hand over the flat plane of his stomach. I dont let myself hesitate, but my inexperince is obvious. His skin is hot under my palm, against my calluses. His fingers are too clever by half. I feel as though i am drowning in sensation. His eyes are open, watching my flushed face, my ragged breathing. I try to stop myself from making embarassing noises. Its more intimate than the way hes touching me, to be looked at like that. I hate that he knows what hes doing and i dont. I hate being vulnerable. I hate that I throw my head back, barring my throat. I hate the way i cling to him, the nails of one hand digging into his back, my thoughts splintering, and the single last thing in my head: that i like him better than ive ever liked anyone and that of all the things hes ever done to me, making me like him so much is by far the worst. pages 145-146

The High King is tied to the land and to his subjects. A king is a living symbol, a beating heart, a star upon which Elfhame's future is written.' He speaks quietly, and yet somehow his voice carries. 'Surely you have noticed that since his reign began, the isles are different. Storms come in faster. Colours are a bit more vivid, smells are sharper. 'Things have been seen in the forests,' he goes on. 'Ancient things long thought gone from the world, come to peer at him. 'When he becomes drunk, his subjects become tipsy without knowing why. When his blood falls, things grow. Why, High Queen Mab called Insmire, Insmoor, and Insweal from the sea. All the isles of Elfhame, formed in a single hour.' My heart speeds faster the longer that Baphen talks. My lungs feel as though they cannot get enough air. Because none of this can be describing Cardan. He cannot be connected to the land so profoundly, cannot be able to do all that and yet be under my control.

I feel a guard's hand close on my arm. Then Cardan's voice comes. 'Do not touch her.' A terrible silence follows. I wait for him to pronounce judgement on me. Whatever he commands will be done. His power is absolute. I don't even have the strength to fight back. 'Whatever can you mean?' Randalin says. 'She's-' 'She is my wife,' Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. 'The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile.' The shocked roar of the crowd rolls around me, but none of them are more shocked than I am. I try to open my eyes, try to sit up, but darkness crowds in at the edges of my vision and drags me under.

Get down on your knees,' Cardan says, looking insufferably pleased with himself. His fury has transmuted in to gloating. 'Beg. Make it pretty. Flowery. Worthy of me.' ... 'Beg? I echo. For a moment, he looks surprised, but that's quickly replaced by even greater malice. 'You defied me. More than once. Your only hope is to throw yourself on my mercy in front of everyone. Do it, or I will keep hurting you until there is nothing left to hurt.' ... There is no shame in surrender. As Taryn said, they're just words. I don't have to mean them. I can lie. I start to lower myself to the ground. This will be over quickly, every word will taste like bile, and then it will be over. When I open my mouth, though, nothing comes out. I can't do it. Instead I shake my head at the thrill running through me at the sheer lunacy of what I'm about to do. It's the thrill of leaping without being able to see the ground below you, right before you realise that's called falling. 'You think because you can humiliate me, you can control me?' I say, looking him in those black eyes. 'Well, I think you're an idiot. Since we started being tutored together, you've gone out of your way to make me feel like I'm less than you. And to coddle your ego, I have made myself less. I have made myself small, I have kept my head down. But it wasn't enough to make you leave Taryn and me alone, so I'm not going to do that anymore. 'I am going to keep on defying you. I am going to shame you with my defiance. You remind me that I am a mere mortal and you are a prince of Faerie. Well, let me remind you that means you have much to lose and I have nothing. You may win in the end, you may ensorcell me and hurt me and humiliate me, but I will make sure you lose everything I can take from you on the way down. I promise you this'- I throw his own words back at him- 'this is the least of what I can do.' Cardan looks at me as though he's never seen me before. He looks at me as though no one has ever spoken to him like this. Maybe no one has.

Sometimes I think about Cardan when I am lying there. I think about what it must have been like to grow up as an honoured member of the royal family, powerful and unloved. Fed on cat milk and neglect, To be arbitrarily beaten by the brother you most resembled and who most seemed to care for you. Imagine all those courtiers bowing to you, allowing you to hiss and slap at them. But no matter how many of them you humiliated or hurt, you would always know someone had found them worthy of love, when no one had ever found you worthy. ... I would be stupid to think I knew Cardan's heart from his story. But I wonder at it. I wonder what would have happened if I'd admitted he wasn't out of my system.

Oh ho,' he says. 'My darling seneschal. Let us take a turn around the room.' He grabs me and pulls me toward the dance. He can barely stand. Three times he stumbles, and three times I have to hold most of his weight to keep him upright. 'Cardan.' I hiss. 'This is no meet behaviour for the High King.' He giggles at that. I think of how serious he was last night in his rooms and how far he seems from that person. 'Cardan,' I try again. 'You must not do this. I order you to pull yourself together. I command you to drink no more liquor and to attempt sobriety.' 'Yes, my sweet villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can.' And with that, he kisses me on the mouth.

Oak gave up his room so they could sleep there, and although the bed is small, Cardan cannot mind when he takes Jude in his arms. 'You're probably missing your fancy palace right about now,' she whispers to him in the dark. He traces the edge of her lip, runs his finger over the soft human hair of her cheek, pausing on a freckle and comes to rest on a tiny scar, a line of pale skin drawn there by some blade. He considers explaining how much he despised the palace as a child, how he dreamed of escaping Elfhame. She knows most of that already. Then he considers reminding her that the fancy palace is now as much hers as his. 'Not in the least,' he says instead, and feels her smile against his skin. But once he starts recalling his desire to leave Elfhame, he can't help but also recall how desperately she wanted to stay. And how difficult that had been, how hard she had fought, how hard she was still fighting, even now that she didn't have to. 'Why didn't you hate everyone?' he asks. 'Everyone, all the time.' 'I hated you,' Jude reassures him, bringing her mouth to his.

I didn't mean to hurt you.' He grabs my hand, possibly to keep me from hitting him again. Our fingers lace together. 'No, it's not that, not exactly. I didn't think I could hurt you. And I never thought you would be afraid of me.' 'And did you like it?' I ask. He looks away from me then, and I have my answer. Maybe he doesn't want to admit to that impulse, but he has it. 'Well, I was hurt, and yes, you scare me.' Even as I am speaking, I wish I could snatch back the words. Perhaps it is exhaustion or having been so close to death, but the truth pours out of me in a devastating rush. 'You've always scared me. You gave me every reason to fear your capriciousness and your cruelty. I was afraid of you even when you were tied to that chair in the Court of Shadows. I was afraid of you when I had a knife to your throat. And I am scared of you now.' Cardan looks more surprised than he did when I slapped him. He was always a symbol of everything about Elfhame that I couldn't have, everything that would never want me. And telling him this feels a little like throwing off a heavy weight, except that weight is supposed to be my armour, and without it, I am afraid I am going to be entirely exposed. But I keep talking anyway, as though I no longer have control over my tongue. 'You despised me. When you said you wanted me, it felt like the world had turned upside down. 'But sending me into exile, that made sense.' I meet his gaze. 'That was an entirely right-side-up Cardan move. And I hated myself for not seeing it coming. And I hate myself for not seeing what you're going to do to me next.' He closes his eyes. When he opens them, he releases my hand and turns so I can't see his face. 'I can see why you thought what you did. I suppose I am not an easy person to trust. And maybe I ought not to be trusted, but let me say this: I trust you.

...kissing Locke never felt the way that kissing Cardan does, like taking a dare to run over knives, live an adrenaline strike of lightning, like the moment when you've swum too far out in the sea and there is no going back, only cold black water closing over your head. Cardan's cruel mouth is surprisingly soft, and for a long moment after our lips touch, he's still as a statue. His eyes close, lashes brushing my cheek. I shudder, as you're supposed to when someone walks over your grave. Then his hands come up, gentle as they glide over my arms. If I didn't know better, I'd say his touch was reverent, but I do know better. HIs hands are moving slowly because he is trying to stop himself. He doesn't want this. He doesn't want to want this. He tastes like sour wine. I can feel the moment he gives in and gives up, pulling me to him despite the threat of the knife. He kisses me hard, with a kind of devouring desperation, fingers digging in to my hair. Our mouths slide together, teeth over lips over tongues. Desire hits me like a kick to the stomach. It's like fighting, except what we're fighting for is to crawl inside each other's skin. That's the moment when terror seizes me. What kind of insane revenge is there in exulting in his revulsion? And worse, far worse, I like this. I like everything about kissing him- the familiar buzz of fear, the knowledge I am punishing him, the proof he wants me. The knife in my hand is useless. I throw it at the desk, barely registering as the point sinks in to the wood. He pulls back from me at the sound, startled. HIs mouth is pink, his eyes dark. He sees the knife and barks out a startled laugh. Which is enough to make me stagger back. I want to mock him, to show up his weakness without revealing mine, but I don't trust my face not to show too much. 'Is that what you imagined?' I ask, and am relieved to find that my voice sounds harsh. 'No,' he said tonelessly. 'Tell me,' I say. He shakes his head, somewhere chagrined. 'Unless you're really going to stab me, I think I won't. And I might not tell you even if you were going to stab me.' I get up on Dain's desk to put some distance between us. My skin feels too tight, and the room seems suddenly too small. He almost made me laugh there.

On the throne, the remaining flowers turn the same inky black as Cardan's eyes. Then the black bleeds down his face. He turns to me, opening his mouth, but his jaw is changing. His whole body is changing- elongating and ululating. ... The monstrous thing seems to have swallowed up everything of Cardan. His mouth opens wide and then jaw-crackingly wide as long fangs sprout. Scales shroud his skin. Dread has rooted me in place. ... In the place where the High King was, there is a massive serpent, covered in black scales and curved fangs. A golden sheen runs down the coils of the enormous body. I look in to his black eyes, hoping to see recognition there, but they are cold and empty. 'It will poison the land,' cries the smith. 'No true love's kiss will stop it. No riddle will fix it. Only death.

His grin widens, shows teeth. 'I don't think I will be a good king. I never wanted to be one, certainly not a good one. You made me your puppet. Very well, Jude, daughter of Madoc, I will be your puppet. You rule. You contend with Balekin, with Roiben, with Orlagh of the Undersea. You be my seneschal, do the work, and I will drink wine and make my subjects laugh. I may be the useless shield you put in front of your brother, but don't expect me to start being useful.' I expected something else, a direct threat, perhaps. Somehow, this is worse. He rises from the throne. 'Come, have a seat.' His voice is replete with danger, lush with menace. The flowering branches have sprouted thorns so thickly that petals are barely visible. 'This is what you wanted, isn't it?' he asks. 'What you sacrificed everything for. Go on. It's all yours.

Jude never loved Locke.” My face feels hot, but my shame is an excellent cover to hide behind. “She loved someone else. He’s the one she’d want dead.” I am pleased to see Cardan flinch. “Enough,” he says before I can go on. “I have heard all I care to on this subject—” “No!” Nicasia interrupts, causing everyone under the hill to stir a little. It is immense presumption to interrupt the High King. Even for a princess. Especially for an ambassador. A moment after she speaks, she seems to realize it, but she goes on anyway. “Taryn could have a charm on her, something that makes her resistant to glamours.” Cardan gives Nicasia a scathing look. He does not like her undermining his authority. And yet, after a moment, his anger gives way to something else. He gives me one of his most awful smiles. “I suppose she’ll have to be searched.” Nicasia’s mouth curves to match his. It feels like being back at lessons on the palace grounds, conspired against by the children of the Gentry. I recall the more recent humiliation of being crowned the Queen of Mirth, stripped in front of revelers. If they take my gown now, they will see the bandages on my arms, the fresh slashes on my skin for which I have no good explanation. They will guess I am not Taryn. I can’t let that happen. I summon all the dignity I can muster, trying to imitate my stepmother, Oriana, and the way she projects authority. “My husband was murdered,” I say. “And whether or not you believe me, I do mourn him. I will not make a spectacle of myself for the Court’s amusement when his body is barely cold.” Unfortunately, the High King’s smile only grows. “As you wish. Then I suppose I will have to examine you alone in my chambers.

I take another step toward the serpent. And then another. This close, I am stunned all over again by the creature's sheer size. I raise a wary hand and place it against the black scales. They feel dry and cool against my skin. Its golden eyes have no answer, but I think of Cardan lying beside me on the floor of the royal rooms. I think of his quicksilver smile. I think of how he would hate to be trapped like this. How unfair it would be for me to keep him this way and call it love. You already know how to end the curse. 'I do love you,' I whisper. 'I will always love you.' I tuck the golden bridle into my belt. Two paths are before me, but only one leads to victory. But I don't want to win like this. Perhaps I will never live without fear, perhaps power will slip from my grasp, perhaps the pain of losing him will hurt more than I can bear. And yet, if I love him, there's only one choice. I draw the borrowed sword at my back. Heartsworn, which can cut through anything. I asked Severin for the blade and carried it into battle, because no matter how I denied it, some part of me knew what I would choose. The golden eyes of the serpent are steady, but there are surprised sounds from the assembled Folk. I hear Madoc's roar. This wasn't supposed to be how things ended. I close my eyes, but I cannot keep them that way. In one movement, I swing Heartsworn in a shining arc at the serpent's head. The blade falls, cutting through scales, through flesh and bone. Then the serpent's head is at my feet, golden eyes dulling. Blood is everywhere. The body of the serpent gives a terrible coiling shudder, then goes limp. I sheath Heartsworn with trembling hands. I am shaking all over, shaking so hard that I fall to my knees in the blackened grass, in the carpet of blood. I hear Lord Jarel shout something at me, but I can't hear it. I think I might be screaming.

Tell me, could you love me?' he asks, seemingly out of nowhere. 'Of course.' I laugh, not sure of the answer I am supposed to give. But the question is so oddly phrased that I can hardly deny him. I love my parents' murderer; I suppose I could love anyone. I'd like to love him. 'I wonder,' he says. 'What would you do for me?' 'I don't know what you mean.' This riddling figure with flinty eyes isn't the Locke who stood on the rooftop of his estate and spoke so gently to me or who chased me, laughing, through its halls. I am not quite sure who this Locke is, but he has put me entirely off balance. 'Would you forswear a promise for me?' He is smiling at me as though he's teasing. 'What promise?' He sweeps me around him, my leather slippers pirouetting over the packed earth. In the distance, a piper begins to play. 'Any promise,' he says lightly, although it is no light thing he is asking. 'I guess it depends,' I say, because the real answer, a flat no, isn't what anyone wants to hear. 'Do you love me enough to give me up?' I am sure my expression is stricken. He leans closer. 'Isn't that a test of love?' 'I- I don't know,' I say. All this must be leading up to some declaration on his part, either of affection or of a lack of it. 'Do you love me enough to weep over me?' The words are spoken against my neck. I can feel his breath, making the tiny hairs stand up, making me shudder with an odd combination of desire and discomfort. 'You mean if you were hurt?' 'I mean if I hurt you.' My skin prickles. I don't like this. But at least I know what to say. 'If you hurt me, I wouldn't cry. I would hurt you back.' His step falters as we sweep over the floor. 'I'm sure you'd-' And then he breaks off speaking, looking behind him. I can barely think. My face is hot. I dread what he will say next. 'Time to change partners,' a voice says, and I look to see that it's the worst possible person: Cardan. 'Oh,' he says to Locke. 'Did I steal your line?

Whatever you do to me,' I say, too angry to stay quiet, 'I can do worse to you.' 'Oh,' he says, fingers tight on mine. 'Do not think I forget that for a moment.' 'Then why?' I demand. 'You believe I planned your humiliation?' He laughs. 'Me? That sounds like work.' 'I don't care if you did or not,' I tell him, too angry to make sense of my feelings. 'I just care that you enjoyed it.' 'And why shouldn't I delight to see you squirm? You tricked me,,' Cardan says. 'You played me for a fool, and now I am the King of Fools.' 'The High King of Fools,' I say, a sneer in my voice. Our gazes meet, and there's a shock of mutual understanding that our bodies are pressed too closely. I am conscious of my skin, of the sweat beading on my lip, of the slide of my thighs against each other. I am aware of the warmth of his neck beneath my twined fingers, of the prickly brush of his hair and how I want to sink my hands in to it. I inhale the scent of him- moss and oakwood and leather. I stare at his treacherous mouth and imagine it on me. Everything about this is wrong.

Jude ought to be cowed. She was supposed to bow and scrape, to submit and acknowledge his superiority. A little grovelling wouldn't have gone amiss. He would have very much liked it if she begged. 'Give up,' Cardan said, fully expecting that she would. 'Never,' Jude wore an unnerving little smile in the corners of her mouth, as though even she couldn't believe what she was saying. The most infuriating part was that she didn't have to mean it. She was mortal. She could lie. So why wouldn't she? In this, there was no winning for her. And yet, after he told her all the soft, menacing things he could think of, after he left her clambering back up onto the riverbank, he realised he was the one who had retreated. He was the one who backed down. And all through that night and for many nights after, he couldn't rid his thoughts of her. Not the hatred in her eyes. That he understood. That he didn't mind. It warmed him. But the contempt made her feel as though she saw beneath all his sharp and polished edges. It reminded him of how his father and all the Court had seen him, before he learned how to shield himself with villainy. And doomed as she was, he envied her whatever conviction made her stand there and defy him. She ought to be nothing. She ought to be insignificant. She ought not to matter. He had to make her not matter. But every night, Jude haunted him. The coils of her hair. The calluses on her fingers. An absent bite of her lip. It was too much, the way he thought about her. He knew it was too much, but he couldn't stop. It disgusted him that he couldn't stop. He had to make her see that he was her better. To beg his pardon. And grovel. He had to find a way to make her admire him. To kneel before him and plead for his royal mercy. To surrender. To yield.

Please,' she says, her head bent. 'Please. You must try to break the curse. I know that you are the queen by right and that you may not want him back, but-' If anything could have increased my astonishment, it was that. 'You think that I'd-' 'I didn't know you, before,' she says, the anguish clear in her voice. There is a hitch in her breath that comes with weeping. 'I thought you were just some mortal.' I have to bite my tongue at that, but I don't interrupt her. 'When you became his seneschal, I told myself that he wanted you for your lying tongue. Or because you'd become biddable, although you never were before. I should have believed you when you told him he didn't know the least of what you could do. 'While you were in exile, I got more of the story out of him. I know you don't believe this, but Cardan and I were friends before we were lovers, before Locke. He was my first friend when I came here from the Undersea. And we were friends, even after everything. I hate that he loves you.' 'He hated it, too,' I say with a laugh that sounds more brittle than I'd like. Nicasia fixes me with a long look. 'No, he didn't.' To that, I can only be silent. 'He frightens the Folk, but he's not what you think he is,' Nicasia says. 'Do you remember the servants that Balekin had? The human servants?' I nod mutely. Of course I remember. I will never forget Sophie and her pockets full of stones. 'They'd go missing sometimes, and there were rumours that Cardan hurt them, but it wasn't true. He'd return them to the mortal world.' I admit, I'm surprised. 'Why?' She throws up a hand. 'I don't know! Perhaps to annoy his brother. But you're human, so I thought you'd like that he did it. And he sent you a gown. For the coronation.' I remember it- the ball gown in the colours of the night, with the stark outlines of trees stitched on it and the crystals for stars. A thousand times more beautiful than the dress I commissioned. I had thought perhaps it came from Prince Dain, since it was his coronation and I'd sworn to be his creature when I'd joined the Court of Shadows. 'He never told you, did he?' Nicasia says. 'So see? Those are two nice things about him you didn't know. And I saw the way you used to look at him when you didn't think anyone was watching you.' I bite the inside of my cheek, embarrassed despite the fact that we were lovers, and wed, and it should hardly be a secret that we like each other. 'So promise me,' she says. 'Promise me you'll help him.' I think of the golden bridle, about the future the stars predicted. 'I don't know how to break the curse,' I say, all the tears I haven't shed welling up in my eyes. 'If I could, do you think i would be at this stupid banquet? Tell me what I must slay, what I must steal, tell me the riddle I must solve or the hag I must trick. Only tell me the way, and I will do it, no matter the danger, no matter the hardship, no matter the cost.' My voice breaks. She gives me a steady look. Whatever else I might think of her, she really does care for Cardan. And as tears roll down my cheeks, to her astonishment, I think she realises I do, too. Much good it does him.

I slip in to Cardan's room. Though it is not yet dawn, I am lucky. The room is empty of revelry. No courtiers doze on the cushions or in his bed. I walk to where he sleeps and press my hand over his mouth. He wakes, fighting against my grip. I press down hard enough that I can feel his teeth against my skin. He grabs for my throat, and for a moment, I am scared that I'm not strong enough, that my training isn't good enough. Then his body relaxes utterly, as though realizing who I am. He shouldn't relax like that. 'He sent me to kill you,' I whisper against his ear. A shiver goes through his body, and his hand goes to my waist, but instead of pushing me away, he pulls me in to the bed with him, rolling my body across him on to the heavily embroidered coverlets. My hand slips from his mouth, and I am unnerved to find myself here, in the new High King's new bed- one I am still too human to lie in, beside someone who terrifies me the more I feel for him. 'Balekin and Orlagh are planning your murder,' I say, flustered. 'Yes,' He says lazily. 'So why did I wake up at all?' I am awkwardly conscious of his physicality, of the moment when he was half awake and pulled me against him. 'Because I am difficult to charm,' I say. That makes him give a soft laugh. He reaches out and touches my hair, traces the hollow of my cheekbone. 'I could have told my brother that,' he says, with a softness in his voice I am utterly unprepared for.

When I came here, pretending to be Taryn, you said you'd sent me messages,' I say. 'You seemed surprised I hadn't gotten any. What was in them?' Cardan turns to me, hands clasped behind his back. 'Pleading, mostly. Beseeching you to come back. Several indiscreet promises.' He's wearing that mocking smile, the one he says comes from nervousness. I close my eyes against frustration great enough to make me scream. 'Stop playing games,' I say. 'You sent me in to exile.' 'Yes,' he says. 'That. I can't stop thinking about what you said to me, before Madoc took you. About it being a trick. You meant marrying you, making you queen, sending you to the mortal world, all of it, didn't you?' I fold my arms across my chest protectively. 'Of course it was a trick. Wasn't that what you said in return?' ''But that's what you do,' Cardan says. 'You trick people. Nicasia, Madoc, Balekin, Orlagh. Me. I thought you'd admire me a little for it, that I could trick you. I thought you'd be angry, of course, but not quite like this.' I stare at him, openmouthed. 'What?' 'Let me remind you that I didn't know you'd murdered my brother, the ambassador to the Undersea, until that very morning,' he says. 'My plans were made in haste. And perhaps I was a little annoyed. I thought it would pacify Queen Orlagh, at least until all promises were finalised in the treaty. By the time you guessed the answer, the negotiations would be over. Think of it: I exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world. Until and unless she is pardoned by the crown.' He pauses. 'Pardoned by the crown. Meaning by the King of Faerie. Or its queen. You could have returned any time you wanted.' Oh. Oh. It wasn't an accident, his choice of words. It wasn't infelicitous. It was deliberate. A riddle made just for me. Maybe I should feel foolish, but instead, I feel furiously angry. I turn away from him and walk, swiftly and completely directionless through the garden. He runs after me, grabbing my arm. I haul around and slap him. It's a stinging blow, smearing the gold of his cheekbone and causing his skin to redden. We stare at each other for long moments, breathing hard. His eyes are bright with something entirely different from anger. I am in over my head. I am drowning.

Cardan turns back to me, gazing down at me as he did in my imaginings. 'When you forced me into working for the Court of Shadows, I never thought of the things I could do- frightening people, charming people- as talents, no less ones that might be valuable. But you did. You showed me how to use them to be useful. I never minded being a minor villain, but it's possible I might have grown into something else, a High King as monstrous as Dain. And if I did- if I fulfilled the prophecy- I ought to be stopped. And I believe that you would stop me.' 'Stop you?' I echo. 'Sure. If you're a huge jerk and a threat to Elfhame, I'll pop your head right off.' 'Good.' His expression is wistful. 'That's one reason I didn't want to believe you'd joined up with Madoc. The other is that I want you here by my side, as my queen.' It's a strange speech, and there's little of love in it, but it doesn't seem like a trick, either. And if it stings a little that he admires me primarily for my ruthlessness, well, I suppose there should be some comfort that he admires me at all. He wants me with him, and maybe he wants me in other ways, too. Desiring more than that from him is just greed. He gives me a half smile. 'But now that you're High Queen and back in charge, I won't be doing anything of consequence anyway. If I destroy the crown and ruin the throne, it will only be through neglect.' That startles a laugh out of me. 'So that's your excuse for not doing any of the work? You must be draped in decadence at all times because if you aren't kept busy, you might fulfil some half-baked prophecy?' 'Exactly.

I have thought and thought since you were gone, and there is something I wish to say.' Cardan's face is serious, almost grave, in a way that he seldom allows himself to be. 'When my father sent me away, at first I tried to prove that I was nothing like he thought me. But when that didn't work, I tried to be exactly what he believed I was instead. If he thought I was bad, I would be worse. If he thought I was cruel, I would be horrifying. I would live down to his every expectation. If I couldn't have his favour, then I would have his wrath. 'Balekin did not know what to do with me. He made me attend his debauches, made me serve wine and food to show off his tame little prince. When I grew older and more ill-tempered, he grew to like having someone to discipline. His disappointments were my lashing, his insecurities my flaws. And yet, he was the first person who saw something in me he liked- himself. He encouraged all my cruelty, inflamed all my rage. And I got worse. 'I wasn't kind, Jude. Not to many people. Not to you. I wasn't sure if I wanted you or if I wanted you gone from my sight so that I would stop feeling as I did, which made me even more unkind. But when you were gone- truly gone beneath the waves- I hated myself as I never have before.' I am so surprised by his words that I keep trying to find the tick in them. He can't truly mean what he's saying. 'Perhaps I am foolish, but I am not a fool. You like something about me,' he says, mischief lighting his face, making its planes more familiar. 'The challenge? My pretty eyes? No matter, because there is more you do not like and I know it. I can't trust you. Still, when you were gone I had to make a great many decisions, and so much of what I did right was imagining you beside me, Jude, giving me a bunch of ridiculous orders I nonetheless obeyed.' I am robbed of speech. He laughs, his warm hand going to my shoulder. 'Either I've surprised you or you are as ill as Madoc claimed.