He calls again and again for his cabochon-encrusted goblet to be refilled with a pale green liquor. I’m sure he enjoys that part of it-the kisses, the bowing and scraping. Mostly, his obligations appear to be allowing his ring-covered hands to be kissed and accepting the blandishments of the Folk. But surely Cardan isn’t that, not with his commitment to being a layabout who does none of the real work of governance. They are the lifeblood and the beating heart of their realm in some mystical way that I don’t fully understand. Now a year and a day seems like no time at all.Īnd despite having put Cardan on the throne through my own machinations, despite scheming to keep him there, I cannot help being unnerved by how comfortable he looks.įaerie rulers are tied to the land. Long enough to give Oak a chance to have what I didn’t: a childhood. But now I must figure out how to keep him in my power-and out of trouble-for longer than that. Then, a year and a day seemed like forever. It was thrilling to trick Cardan into promising to serve me for a year and a day, exhilarating when my plan came together. It seemed like a good trade-a very faerie trade, even: put someone who despised me on the throne so that Oak would be out of danger. It’s been five months since I forced Cardan onto the throne of Elfhame as my puppet king, five months since I betrayed my family, since my sister carried my little brother to the mortal realm and away from the crown that he might have worn, since I crossed swords with Madoc.įive months since I’ve slept for more than a few hours at a stretch. They intercepted a communication from the Tower of Forgetting, where Cardan’s brother is jailed, and are bringing it to me instead of to its intended recipient. Scanning the crowd, I look for a spy from the Court of Shadows. I am supposed to be High King Cardan’s most trusted advisor, and so I play that part, rather than my real role-the hand behind the throne, with the power to compel him to obey should he try to cross me. I stand to one side of him, in the honored position of seneschal.
It makes him look every bit the jerk that he is. His most ostentatious decoration, however, is his soft, sullen mouth. An earring shines from the peak of one pointed ear. The new High King of Faerie lounges on his throne, his crown resting at an insouciant angle, his long, villainously scarlet cloak pinned at his shoulders and sweeping the floor.
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