Chapter Text
He’d made it only a couple of steps before she rounded the corner. The soft glow of the dawn sky seeped through a high window, painting her in gold as she walked beneath it.
She came to a stop two paces from him and Cardan felt his stomach flip.
“Where are your guards?” Jude asked. If she was at all surprised to see him, she didn’t show it.
“And well met to you, too,” Cardan said, dipping his head as he evaded her question.
Jude seemed less than amused. “Why are you here? You should be asleep.”
“Am I not allowed to walk the halls of my own palace?” he shot back. “Surely you wouldn’t be so cruel as to deny me even that.”
“Either answer my questions or go away.” She pushed past him to her room, unlocking her door and shoving her way inside.
Yes, Cardan , he thought, go away . But his traitorous feet followed her, catching her door before it swung shut and then having the gall to hesitate, frozen in her doorway.
In or out, coward. Stop standing here like an uncertain child .
Still, his feet wouldn’t move.
Across the room, Jude was crouched by her hearth, coaxing a small flame into existence.
“Well?” she intoned, back still turned to him. She fed a small log into the little fire. “You’re allowed to come in.”
And finally Cardan stepped inside.
His skin prickled with uncertainty as he closed the door behind him and moved to stand by the warmth of the hearth. His seneschal was sitting on the floor, so he lowered himself to sit across from her, hugging his knees to his chest.
Jude seemed to see him for the first time, her hazel eyes scanning the lines of his face, reading the emptiness written in his hollow gaze. The slight furrowing of her brows belayed her concern.
“Cardan, are you all right?”
Her voice was not gentle, because that was not her way, but it was not unkind, either.
Cardan said nothing, because, really, what was there to say? I couldn’t sleep because my bed is too large and my room is too empty and even when I have someone with me and my guards are right outside my door I’m still more alone than I’ve ever been ?
“Perhaps I should not have come,” he said instead, and Jude rolled her eyes.
“A rather lengthy way to say no , but I get the picture.” She picked at a loose thread on the hem of her tunic, frowning as it resisted her attempts at pulling it loose. “So, what’s up?”
Nothing , Cardan tried to say, but his throat tightened around the lie, so instead he settled for, “Nothing important.”
Jude had the thread between her teeth now, her tunic lifted just enough to reveal the smooth plane of her stomach and abs that Cardan was trying very hard not to stare at. She glanced up at him through long, auburn lashes.
“I know you can’t lie, but you’re walking a thin line,” she said, eyebrows lifting slightly. “If you came here of all places, and in the middle of the night no less, there’s got to be a good reason.”
“‘Here of all places?’” he echoed. “And where else do you suppose I might go?”
She shrugged and gave up on the thread, dropping her hem. Cardan would have told himself he was not disappointed, but even in thought he could not lie.
“Nicasia’s got a room here.”
He stiffened. “What makes you think I’d want to see her?”
“I thought you still had a thing for her, even if you won’t admit it.”
Cardan didn’t miss the slight wobble in her voice as she said the words. He sighed. “No, Jude, I do not ‘have a thing for her,’ thank you very much. Nicasia is… a friend.”
“Okay, okay.” She raised both hands in surrender, leaning back. “But still. I don’t know why you wouldn’t rather see a friend over me.”
Cardan’s heart gave a sharp pang and he flinched. “Are…” He swallowed. “Are we not friends?”
She snorted. “If we’re friends then you have a much different understanding of the word than me.”
“Apparently so,” he said flatly, shifting to stand. He tried not to show the hurt on his face. It had become clear that, even here, he was not wanted. It was stupid of him to have thought he would find any compassion in Jude. Any care for him.
“I should go.” He turned, but she caught his hand.
“No—Cardan, that’s—”
He paused and twisted to face her, regarding her through the bars of the cage around his heart. She sighed and released him, sinking back down onto her knees.
“Don’t go.” Jude closed her eyes, dragging her hands down her face. “Please.”
As he shifted back into a seated position, he noticed her rubbing her thumb across the tip of her shortened ring finger.
“We’re not—I didn’t mean we’re not friends. It’s just—well, we aren’t not friends, but it’s strange to think of us as that.”
“So what are we then? If we’re not friends but we’re not ‘ not friends’. What does that make us?” Cardan’s voice was hard but his eyes were pleading, hurting.
“I don’t know,” Jude admitted. “We could be allies.”
Cardan stayed quiet, and that silence stretched. Finally, Jude met his eyes, gnawing on her lip.
“Did—Do you want to be? Friends, I mean?”
She swallowed so loudly that Cardan could hear it. He took in the rosy glow of her cheeks in the firelight, the loose strands of hair framing her face.
Did he want to be friends with Jude Duarte? He almost laughed. He wanted that and so much more. For now, though, he supposed he could settle for friends.
The self-loathing crept forward at the thought, but he tried to shove it down as he nodded.
“Friends,” he affirmed. She stretched out her hand and he took it uncertainly, the darkness recoiling at the contact.
Jude smiled softly. “Friends, then,” she agreed, squeezing his hand.
A gentle flame flickered to life in Cardan’s heart, a candle catching in the warmth of her fire, a light to hold the shadows at bay.
Perhaps he was not so alone, after all.