The Cruel Prince: Chapter 26–Epilogue

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.

What kind of insane revenge is there in exulting in his revulsion?

What kind of insane revenge is there in exulting in his revulsion?

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.”

When I look back, I see Cardan’s hands are deftly splitting the deck of cards, but his glittering black eyes are on me.

I pour myself a cup of bracing and bitter fennel tea.

That’s clearly not what he was expecting me to say. For a moment, his insouciant swagger fails him.

“Fine,” I say incredulously. “I will find a way to work it out.”

“I can. I do. And I promise we will thwart Balekin. We will get the crown of Faerie,” I tell him heedlessly.

“Very well,” he says impatiently, not sounding in the least like a vassal about to swear to his lady. “Jude Duarte, daughter of clay, I swear myself into your service. I will act as your hand. I will act as your shield. I will act in accordance with your will. Let it be so for one year and one day...and not for one minute more.”

They had pitched tents, some in motley, some in diaphanous silks.

They had pitched tents, some in motley, some in diaphanous silks.

If my plan is going to succeed, I need someone at that feast who is on the side of a new king, preferably someone with the power to keep a dinner party from devolving into another slaughter if things go sideways.

“Do not expect others to share my depraved tastes.”

“I command you to stay here and wait until I am ready to leave this forest, there is imminent danger, or a full day has passed. While you wait, I command you to make no sound or signal to draw any others to you. If there is imminent danger or a day has passed without my return, I command you to return to the Court of Shadows, concealing yourself as well as you are able until you are there.”

“Very well, tarry with us awhile. I bet your bones would crunch sweetly.” The troll is all sharp teeth and mild threat.

I am surprised at the thought of his sitting with the rest of his retinue before a fire, but I recover quickly enough to remember to bow.

“I see.” His affect is impassive, but his gaze is drawn to the ring.

“I see.” His affect is impassive, but his gaze is drawn to the ring.

“And I can promise you that your Court will be recognized as sovereign, if you help us. No threat of conquest from the new High King. Instead, we offer you an alliance.”

I am unused to such scrupulous politeness being afforded to me—he’s doing me the courtesy of not asking for my true name.

I think he’s a coward to kill his sisters and father in what appeared to be a fit of pique.

After I’m done speaking, he removes a roll of vellum and a nibbed pen from one of the cabinets and notes down who ought to be where at what point for the plan to work.

With reluctance, I leave behind the stuffed animals from my bed. I leave slippers and books and favorite baubles. I step out of my second life the same way I stepped out of my first, holding too few things and with great uncertainty about what will happen next.

Never have I walked through the front doors of Hollow Hall. Always before I have come skulking through the kitchens, dressed as a servant.

The thought of stealing it, in front of everyone, daunts me. And yet, having to search Hollow Hall for it would have been daunting, too.

Her black hair is tied to a crown festooned with more pearls, appearing like webbing above her head.

I am sure he wishes he could rail at Cardan, could beat him into doing what he wants, but since the rest of their family died at swordpoint, Balekin must have learned his lesson about needing a willing participant in a coronation.

I give him my best blithe smile, like a girl who thinks she has solved everyone’s problems.

She is feigning calm, like the rest of us. I am sure that she thought Cardan had to be dead, or worse.

“Did I?” he asks with a haughty condescension, as though she has shown herself to be less clever than he had hoped.

My hands are sweating, but this has the feeling of inevitability, as though this is what I was careening toward the whole time, my whole life.

“Oh, yes, let me tell you my whole plan. You’ve goaded me right into it.”

He has never fought me like this, full out. This will be no genteel exchange of blows.

Lord Roiben looks at me askance. Beside him, the green pixie whispers something in his ear, and he shakes his head.

There are only three mortals here—Taryn, me, and the redhead with Severin—and from the way she regards us, Orlagh is imagining mice presiding over a convocation of cats.

His hand is pinioned to the dining table by a crossbow bolt.

Still, it is with a heavy heart and leaden steps that I make my way to the royal rooms.

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.

His voice is replete with danger, lush with menace.