The Mortal Queen | The Cruel Prince / Wicked King Fanfic

Eleven

Jude

Cardan continues to surprise me. I thought I'd be long past the surprises by now, but he's got a lot of cleverness in him, and I'm in awe of how quickly he's grown into his role as High King. True, he's been King for a little while now, but the way he's speaking to me now is making it very apparent he's every bit the leader he never thought he could be. And he's not the only one who didn't believe in him.

I remember all the times I didn't take him seriously, and instead saw him as a silly Prince who could never be a decent King—spoiled, selfish, and cruel. Perhaps he was that once, but that time is long gone. I feel ashamed and disgusted with myself for not believing in him. I almost feel sick with the guilt that has settled into my very core.

"Jude? You look like you're going to be sick." Cardan says suddenly. Hmm, sick indeed.

The concern in his voice snaps me from my thoughts, and I look at him. "Sorry, just distracted. You were saying?"

He slides my drink over to me, but is hesitant to say anything.

When we had arrived at the pier, we talked for a long time before we both decided we were too hungry to keep going, so we ducked into one of the cafes near the entrance.

Cardan told me more about Orlagh. Her army, her motives, and her obsession with making her daughter Queen, to which I just laughed. I couldn't imagine having a mother push me on someone with so much intensity that I'd likely be disowned if I didn't succeed. Of course, it's easy for me to brush this off because I happen to have snagged the King for myself. Also, I no longer have a mother, and the next closest thing has all but been barred from me, no thanks to Madoc's betrayal.

Madoc. Cardan told me about him too. And with that came the discussion about Taryn, whom I've made it a point to keep out of my thoughts all these months. Her betrayal is one I still cannot bring myself to process. So instead of working that puzzle out, I've buried it deep in the darkest corners of my mind. I more or less just pretend I have ever only had one sister. If I let myself think anything otherwise, that's when the frustration and tears come. So I just don't.

It took some convincing for Cardan to tell me much about Madoc and Taryn. I think he somehow knew I wouldn't want to talk about it. But I told him I wanted to know what they were up to, and that I wouldn't let it get to me. He had to stop the discussion a few times when it seemed like I was going to erupt into a fit of rage. I just couldn't believe their behavior, and wanted even more to hear that Taryn had regretted her decision to help Madoc steal Cardan's army out from under him, but she didn't. She and Locke have been scarce around Faerie ever since.

Oh, and Locke. How I would love to strangle his neck with my bare hands to punish him for all the pain and trouble he's caused. But, if he's not able to plan all those revels he's now banned from, that may be punishment enough. I'm fairly certain he needs those revels like he needs air to breathe. With any luck he's suffering a slow, painful drama-free death. Good.

I feel Cardan's hand at the back of my neck, trying to soothe me. His touch brings me back to the present, so I look at him.

"I'm okay. Just—"

"Processing?" He finishes for me. The look on his face is so concerned and serious it almost hurts to look at him.

"Yes. It's just a lot all in one day. I'm fine, I promise." I tell him, and pat his leg next to mine beneath the table.

"Listen." He says, taking a sip from his cup. "I've told you some things that no one else knows, for a reason. But I understand how that can be overwhelming." He looks down at the table in front of us, and I get the sense that he's feeling guilty for unloading everything on me.