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Vivi's apartment seemed to welcome her with open arms when Jude arrived from Elfhame earlier in the day. From the moment she stepped back into the mortal world, the sky couldn't quite seem to stop pouring down thick sheets of water. For once, Jude found this puzzling. Then, to her surprise, she felt consoled. 

During the months of her exile, Jude never paid any attention to things as mundane as weather patterns. She was very much caught up in her deep hole of self-pity, which she wallowed in as gracefully as possible for someone in that same situation. Until the end, at least.

Even before, during her younger years, Jude gave no mind to the weather most days. She focused on strategy training and sword practicing. She focused on staying at Taryn's side and keeping her head down even when she didn't want to. 

And when she was caught up in the game of kings and princes, of queens and crowns; she had no time to think of sunshine or rain. 

But it's different now, Jude supposes. It will be different now.

All day, the mortal world's sky crackled and rolled. Vivi was not home when Jude arrived. She and Oak made their way to Faerie some days ago. With no need to avoid anyone like she usually does, Jude simply made her way to her closet-room and found a place to sit on her bed near the window. The sheets were left untouched from the last morning she was there. 

Here Jude sits. Her arm is propped on the window sill and her chin rests atop her hand. She watches the rain come down for hours until midnight comes and goes, until the dark night fades and the early dawn creeps in. Here she lets herself ponder something as simple as the weather for the first time since long before her arrival in Faerie. 

Here she thinks of her mother. 

Eva loved storms. She remembers this vaguely. Jude always listened intently to her mother when she spoke of them, hanging onto every word. She relishes in those memories now. Those words are blankets of comfort she never let herself yearn for all of her years of betrayal and enchantments and power. 

When the wind is silent, be sure to speak. It is listening, and will gobble up your words and make them magic!  

Her mother’s voice echoes in her head. Jude smiles at how real Eva’s advice seems now. She knows now the wind really is magical, like how all forests are magic. The wind carries enchantments like the creatures that sit quietly within it waiting to snatch up whispers when people think no one is around. When they think nothing can go wrong. When they think they are perfectly safe. Jude knows this well.

Do not step outside when the wind is howling. Spirits are close. 

Don't speak badly of the wind, it will hear you.

Listen when storms speak, it is rude to ignore them. 

When the wind dances around you, dance with it, maybe one day it will carry you on an adventure!

Right she was. Jude's life has been an adventure, and she supposes it will be until the end of her days. 

She closes her eyes and wishes she could hear the exact tones of her mother's voice in this moment. The storm is speaking outside and droplets of water are pattering against the window. Jude is silent, contemplating and listening. If a few tears have slipped down her cheeks in the past hours, Jude does not care and feels no weakness because of them.

Spending an afternoon thinking about her mother was not the sort escape she had planned, but it led her closer to the peace she was searching for nonetheless. 

Jude places hand against the window and watches as it begins to fog around her fingers. The ruby ring on her finger glints gently in the dim moonlight.

She closes her eyes and breathes. 

I miss you, Mom. 

My coronation is tomorrow. I wonder what you would think if you were here to see it.  

*

The last few weeks have been unlike anything Jude could have imagined. After her reunion with Cardan, she spent three days with him alone in his chambers. Those moments are more precious to her than she intended for them to be, but then again, she has, of late, been trying to force away old habits of never letting herself have anything good.

So, yes, Jude has kept those days close to her heart. Those memories with him, of kisses and promises, of the two of them letting themselves be without any of their usual games. They are like a fragile star cradled to her chest that has lit her up from the inside. She's done nothing but glow as they began to melt away months of wounds.

But they eventually came to an end, and Cardan had to return to his throne. They'd spoken of what was to come now that Jude was home, but their plans never seemed quite real to her. There were talks of titles and crowns, and a seat to match his on the dais in the throne room. All of it made Jude feel anxious, so she avoided those conversations whenever possible.  

Then there was a feast in honor of her return. The Court’s confusion caused by this announcement lasted only seconds and gave way to the idea of more drinking and dancing, the Folks’ favorite things to do. 

Everything surrounding the actual event was surreal for Jude. Cardan insisted on a brand new gown to be tailored for her, while Jude was perfectly happy with wearing something simple and countered that a new dress would not be ready in time.

It was ready, though. Turns out a light demand from the High King is as magical as the crown on his head.

Upon waking on the night of the feast, Jude opened her eyes to an empty bed and a grumpy Tatterfell in her face. They did not exchange pleasantries, but Jude complied when the imp told her she was sent to style her hair for the day. She sat in front of a large mirror as Tatterfell expertly pulled her hair into a flattering bun in the shape of a rose at the base of her neck, braiding and knotting some strands as she went. She left quickly after she finished, when Cardan entered his—their—rooms with Jude's new dress in his arms.

"I wanted to give it to you myself," he said, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. "I described to them what you usually wear. I thought you'd like something that befits you." Jude had given little thought to the rushed tailoring of her new outfit, so it hadn't occurred to her that Cardan might have had a part in the design. The thought was incredibly ridiculous, but her heart fluttered nonetheless. 

Jude stood as he laid the dress on his bed and looked expectantly at her. She'd never been one to care much about fashion, but she felt at home as she laid eyes on her new gown. It was made of a thick, smooth material, all white and high-collared with gold embroidery on the neck and lines of the bodice. It looked like a fancier, sleeker version of one of her doublets from her time as the Shadow Queen. The sleeves were long and dipped to the floor, with a heavy, short train featuring more gold patterns. It looked like a perfect mixture of armor and elegance. 

It was very her. She couldn't help turning to beam at Cardan, and found him watching her face intently to gauge her reactions. 

She had yet to leave his quarters in her few days back in Elfhame, but now that their period of bliss was over, she found she was looking forward to making her entrance back into the Court with Cardan by her side.

*

The festivities were in full swing, and Jude barely had time to catch her breath as a royal guard announced the arrival of the High King and herself. She felt as if she was being swept along as they entered into the great hall of the palace.

Every eye of the Court was on them in an instant. Despite that being disconcerting to Jude, Cardan seemed in his element with her hooked on his arm, and he strode straight to the middle of the room. What baffled her the most that night were the looks shot their way throughout the revel. Everywhere she glanced there was anger, curiosity, disbelief, and, just once, delight reflected on the faces she saw. Cardan and Jude never parted once during the feast, they stayed properly attached by arms or hands the entire time, even when the occasional Courtier came to mingle with them. They were each other’s lifelines that night. faerie after faerie, creature after creature approached them in waves, the chatter they brought stilted and short.

Jude could tell what was on everyone's minds, but was being left unsaid.

What exactly is her relationship with the High King, and just how solid is it?  

Cardan, it seemed, never felt it necessary to mention their marriage during conversation. Jude didn’t study that fact closely, but she did suppose that she had already announced it herself when she was exiled. No one seemed to believe her then, though, so the guessing game the Court was playing was in full-swing. It left a horribly thick tension in the air. Jude could feel sweat cooling on her brow. It had been hours since their arrival, and for a second or two, she wished someone would just ask.

In the end, she took care of it herself. 

Shocker.

Jude locked eyes with Oriana, who seemed to be staring at her with some form of indifference, but there was something else lurking in her eyes. Jude decided to file away that away to pick apart another time. Behind her was Madoc, looking off to a door in the palace. Jude quickly tore her eyes away then, and neither one of them approached her. She was so caught in her own thoughts, she barely even noticed Cardan was leading her towards to dais.

"Jude."

She snapped back to attention at the sound of his voice.

"Were you listening?" He asked quietly, face bent towards hers as they skirted the dancing Folk in the middle of the floor. 

"No," was all she said. He raised one impeccable eyebrow at her. She wanted to scoff, but at that moment, Taryn flitted by on Locke’s arm.

Anxiety grew in Jude’s chest. She halted her feet, tugging Cardan to a stop near his throne in the back of the room. 

Her eyes caught her sister’s, but neither exchanged words. Jude simply stared at Taryn with a mixture of anger and sadness rolling in her stomach.

Then Cardan had a hand cradled to her face, lifting it so she could look him in the eyes. 

"Jude, darling—"

He never finished, because at that moment, they both saw Nicasia strutting towards them at a graceful, yet chilling speed. Jude briefly realized she hadn't seen her at the revel just days ago when she returned to Elfhame, or thought of her at all until this moment, but suddenly they were standing face-to-face.

The fury in Nicasia's eyes was mighty. Cardan tightened his hold on Jude's arm. Without warning, Jude’s mouth acted before her mind could even hope to catch up. 

"Lovely to see you again." Jude panicked a bit internally at herself, but was relieved only annoyance could be heard dripping in her voice. Nicasia looked livid, but even with her murderous expression she was stunning. She barely spared Jude a single glance. All her attention was on the High King.

"Is it true?” Nicasia snarled pointedly at Cardan. "You've married in secret?"

Instantaneously, a pin could drop in the room and Jude would be able to hear it. This is what the entire Court has been waiting for.

Cardan said nothing back to her. Jude, even with her thoughts gathered then, decided on her own to exercise that incredible talent she has to piss magical creatures off.

"It was never a secret. I believe I announced it myself some months ago." 

A few crazed, thrilled giggles went around the room with some sharp breaths. Her nerves soared with each one.

Oh, the way Nicasia shook with rage. She still did not acknowledge Jude. 

"Is this a joke, Cardan? You are the High King, and you married a mortal rat?"  

"It’s far from a joke," Cardan said, jaw clenched. 

Nicasia snorted. "And you think the Court will accept this? A mortal as their Queen?" This sent whispers through the hall. Jude wanted to knock her pretty teeth in.

"They will." The finality in his voice sent chills down Jude's spine. Nicasia kept on. 

"She is nothing compared to you. To us. She is the dirt beneath our feet. Less than vermin. Her kind are born to die. She is bones and dust, she will rot away while you live on, and yet you bind yourself to her." 

The Court was on edge, drinking in the sight before them like they were foaming at the mouth, greedy for the dramatics. Jude felt detached from the situation, like she was watching this be said about someone else. Honestly, it was nothing she hadn’t heard before, nothing she hadn’t heard her entire life in Faerie. But Cardan trembled in her hold. Distantly, she was aware of roots cracking out of the ceiling. Jude squeezed his forearm and hoped it was reassuring. Cardan relaxed, and the ceiling settled immediately. He took a breath.

"You, Nicasia, are, and will never be anything compared to her." He was eerily calm, his voice almost sweet. 

Nicasia looked like she took a hit to the gut.

"As you so kindly pointed out, I am the High King, and if you speak poorly of my wife again, I will make sure you regret ever crawling out of the sea." 

Nicasia gasped. 

"Get out," Jude said, feeling more powerful than she thought she could at that moment. Cardan gestured to the guards a few paces away from them, and they marched towards a frightened Nicasia as she backed away. 

Jude felt sheer triumph as she watched the girl be led out the doors, hurling insults and threats at the guards. 

The Court looked excited yet stricken, and eventually, all eyes peeled from where Nicasia left to settle on them once more. Jude's anxiety returned tenfold. She was trying to process what was happening and what it might mean, but it was too much for the moment. 

What is wrong with me? Compartmentalize, Jude. Compartmentalize.

Uncomfortable with all of the attention of the night, Jude looked to Cardan as a way of focusing her scattered thoughts. He was staring off to where Nicasia was just dragged away, and though he looked settled and perfectly regal on the surface, Jude could read him well enough to know that he was close to snapping. 

"Can we even do that? To her of all people?" She was mostly sarcastic, but she felt the need to break through the silence surrounding them. The tension left his face.

"We just did," he drawled, then met her gaze with a smirk. "Let's see what happens now." 

With that, he turned to their audience where the Roach stood in the crowd. Jude was so caught up in the pandemonium of the recent events that she didn't notice him. 

"Find Grimsen," Cardan said, a command loud enough for all to hear. "I need him to make my wife a new crown." 

Murmurs spread through the crowd. 

The night went quickly after that. The dancing and drinking resumed full swing, the Court seemed well fed off the drama that ensued earlier, and there was even a sense of excitement and celebration in the air. Some Folk even came to give their congratulations to Jude and Cardan, to which Jude took each eerie word spoken to her with caution. They retired to Cardan's rooms soon as it was deemed appropriate, and, for the first time since she had returned, promptly fell asleep without any activities beforehand. 

*

The following weeks were tedious and exhausting. Except for when she accompanied Cardan throughout the day as he signed paperwork and had various meetings, Jude roamed the palace without much to do. She missed the responsibilities of a monarch that she had some months ago. It was quite annoying not officially having a say in things yet. She had, in a sense, her power back, but this time it was public, and she had to bide her time.

So she did, and in the meantime, she had the chance to pay close attention to Cardan.

It was remarkable to see just how much he grew into his role as the High King in just a few months. When she left Elfhame, he was just beginning to hold himself as a true ruler. Now, Jude saw personally that he was born for the title of King. 

As Jude slowly integrated herself back into to happenings of the palace, she was also involved in meetings to plan her upcoming coronation. First, there were talks with Grimsen about her crown, and what magic it would hold. Then there was a discussion, albeit short, of what her official title would be. The Council argued with Cardan that he should make her Queen Consort, which sent Jude's nerves spiraling throughout her body, but Cardan viciously crushed that idea immediately. 

She is to rule beside me, and her power shall equal mine. 

And that was that. She was to be the High Queen of Elfhame through and through.

Jude decided it best that she wait to speak with Madoc until after her coronation. 

Plans upon plans were made to ensure extra protection for Jude's ceremony. 

She sent a messenger to Vivi, inviting her and Oak to witness her crowning. They arrived the week before. Jude didn’t see why it was necessary for them to arrive so soon, but she was secretly glad because she missed them and they kept her busy.  

She caught up with the Bomb and the Roach, and marveled at how much they built up the Court of Shadows in her absence. There were at least twenty new recruits, some of them human. 

She spent time with Cardan, which at first was an utterly strange concept in her head. She could never have pictured it happening, but she soon realized that they can simply enjoy each other doing normal things. Jude grasped and held tightly to each memory of them walking and talking in the palace gardens and gazing at the stars while Cardan wrongly interpreted them, which she knew was entirely on purpose. She knows they're both quite terrible at being vulnerable, but they’ve been working on it together, and occasionally making each other laugh along the way. 

It was all going smoothly, despite a few bumps in the road, but to Jude this was a problem. She was used to extreme turbulence, not easy, calm waters without much to do. So, her time since she returned—though partially wonderful—has done nothing but slowly set her on edge. She has felt so much built up anticipation that she couldn't bear to sleep for two days before the eve of her coronation. Cardan, in turn, has been on edge as well, though he flitted from being tense to his usual dramatic antics. It just added fuel to Jude’s disquiet.

The night before she was supposed to be crowned, Jude sought out Vivi to ask her a favor. An hour later, around midnight, she was back in the mortal world for some sense of peace and quiet. Instead, she got the sound of a storm, which lulled her anxieties more than silence ever could. It turns out she is still practiced in finding comfort in chaos. 

*

Jude slept at the window until late afternoon in the mortal world. By the time her eyes open, the rain has ceased and the sky is clear. She knows it's early in Faerie, but she decides her time is up here, so she stands and folds her bed back into the sofa, picks up a few strewn items, and leaves with the apartment door locked. 

She's back in Elfhame before the sun dips behind the horizon, the doors to the High King’s chambers closing behind her, and Cardan is there waiting. He knew where she was going, she told him before she left, and she feels somewhat settled knowing he was anticipating her return. The sight of him sitting at the end of his bed, hands clasped in his lap, brow furrowed, eyes showing relief as they find her form, causes Jude’s heart to lurch in her chest. 

He’s worried. About me.

For some reason, Jude has the sudden urge to cry. 

She doesn’t, though. She takes a step forward. Then another. And she’s across the room in seconds, standing before him as he rises to meet her. They’ve gotten better at casual affection and seeking one another’s comfort, but it still doesn’t come easy, so there is a moment of hesitation from Jude and she takes a shaky breath, muddled thoughts clogging her mind that she still can’t shake in moments like these.

Don’t do it, you’ll be giving in.

He doesn’t want this with you.

You can’t trust him.

Turn around and leave.

Hurt him.

But then she sees worry flicker across his features, as his hands twitch where they rest, careful and unthreatening at his sides, and Jude feels guilty. She understands she is an idiot for letting her mind push those thoughts to her attention even now, when they have been learning to prove themselves to one another. She feels tears prick behind her eyes. Maybe she will cry after all. 

Now, all she knows is that she has never wanted to be held so badly as she does in this moment. Without letting herself think any longer, she steps into him and wraps her arms around his waist. As soon as she’s against him he reciprocates, embracing her and dipping his face into her neck. In an instant, all the tension leaves Jude’s body. She sags against him, eyelids drooping, muscles loose. She presses her cheek into his shoulder. She never thought something like this could feel so nice.

It’s some time before he scoops her up and onto the bed. They lay pressed against one another, her back to his chest, her knees curled up, his arms cradling her to him, his breath tickling her neck.

“For a moment, I considered you might run,” he murmurs. Something about this makes Jude’s throat tighten. 

He thought I’d leave him. That I’d be too scared.

She wants to say she isn’t afraid, that she’s ready for this and she knows what she’s doing.

But she doesn’t want to lie to him right now.

“Would you let me?” she asks instead.

With the arm he has draped over and around her, he begins tracing patterns delicately on her chest with his long fingers. 

“Yes,” he whispers. “If you wanted a life free of chaos and of me, I would let you go. I would do anything so long as you are safe and happy.”

She breathes this in, lets in settle in her. Her eyes close and she stops him making patterns on her skin by bringing a hand up and lacing their fingers together. Jude never thought she would have this: The experience of sharing oneself with another, of living to see that person smile, of someone caring as deeply for her as she does them, of feeling… whole when near them. She wants to say a thousand things to him, but they’re a thousand things she isn’t ready for.

She does say, “I don’t want to leave.” Her tongue feels heavy and her jaw awkward, like she didn’t speak correctly. It’s such a simple thing to say but she feels as if she’s baring her soul for all of Elfhame to see. “I…” She starts, then starts again. Cardan waits, silent. Jude stares at their clasped hands lying together on the coverlets before her, and as she works up her courage, she unlaces them and cautiously runs her fingers over the bones of his wrist and the lines of his palm. She thinks it is probably silly, like something a little girl would do, but Cardan does not give any complaint as she plays with his hand. 

“I never want to leave you,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. It is both a relief and an accomplishment. She waits for him to respond, but he doesn’t say anything, just turns her in his arms so they can face one another. When she looks at him, all of her breath leaves her body like she’s been punched in the gut. Cardan has given her many looks since they’ve known each other: looks of anger or indifference, lustful gazes, loving glances, but never has he looked at her the way he is now. Like she is so precious to him that she might break. His eyes are soft. He’s smiling, just barely, but it is a small smile that’s reserved for her. 

Jude gives him a matching smile back. 

As the palace wakes up, Jude is brought to an unused set of rooms near Cardan's. According to the schedule, they are both to get ready separately, and she will be crowned by him when the moon reaches its zenith. She tries not to think too much about it. 

Time passes in waves. Her hair is fixed into an intricate updo with strands framing her face and curling around her cheeks. Her nails are shaped to look pointed and painted black. She wears no jewelry, but her face is painted to smooth out the dark circles under her eyes and make her cheeks glow. Kohl is smudged into alluring shapes around her eyelids, and her lashes have thick substance spread on them to make them longer. Gold adorns her lips in the form of a sheer, sticky liquid that makes her mouth shine at certain angles.

Her coronation gown, which has been kept a mystery to her as much as her crown, is brought to her room as fine flakes of gold are applied to her cheekbones. When she has the chance, she approaches the massive pile of fabric for a better look. This gown seems the exact opposite of the one she wore to the feast some weeks ago. 

It is not her at all.

The dress looks like pure magic. It is layers upon layers of gold spider silk and black tulle, with gold leaves spread across the back and around the front, vines of sunset wrapping around the sleeves and twisting off into the air. When Jude gets close enough, she sees that tiny pieces of orange garnet set in gold make up the bodice and are littered about in the black train, which must be close to ten feet in length and covered in leaves as well. She spots a pattern in there as well, and when she looks closer she sees the Greenbriar crest made entirely of jewels encrusted near the end of it. 

That’s quite a statement.

Jude thinks this dress looks like the sun, and that it will weigh more than she does. 

She's almost right. A team of people arrive to help her into the gown, and it is extraordinarily heavy, but not as much as she thought. Jude couldn't tell before, but the leaves making up the wide, boat neckline swoop with the sleeves, leaving her shoulders bare save the vines curling off of the fabric. The same sticky liquid on her lips and flakes of gold are applied to her collarbones and shoulders before she is allowed to see herself in a grand mirror on the wall.

When Jude catches her eyes in her reflection, she doesn't recognize herself. 

At first glance, she thinks she's looking at Taryn, because her face is glowing naturally and her eyes are bright and glittery, save for the sultry smudges. There is a dewy finish to her skin, and the gold on her lips and body looks positively striking. The dress fits her perfectly and accentuates the curve of her hips, but the swell of her breasts disappear in the mix of leaves and gems. She looks—

Magnificent. And terrifying. The cosmetics and gown makes her look hauntingly beautiful, like autumn incarnate, a startling mixture of faerie and human.

Like a queen.

So, no, the dress is not her. But perhaps it is who she is meant to be. 

Her entourage helps her into some simple leather slippers—for which she is thankful, because the dress is hard enough to walk in as it is—and leave her to her own devices. 

Jude loses track of the amount of time she has spent standing in front of the mirror, but it's long enough that her carefully placed boxes of thoughts start to spill over in her head. 

This is really happening.  

The mere thought of being crowned High Queen of Elfhame makes her want to lock herself in a room and never come out, and she can't make sense as to why. Is this not what she has worked for her entire life? A place among the Folk, all the power she could ever want, and being, in a sense, better than them. 

It's too much.

But she's done it before. She has been the queen behind the puppet king. She has juggled the responsibilities, the poison and schemes, the games with Cardan. Why is this so frightening?

Because it's real, now. A voice says in the back of her mind. You were in the shadows before, playing pretend. This time It's all on you. 

Jude's breath hitches. 

It's true. It's all different, this time around. She gets her own crown, her own throne, her own power, and she gets to share it with Cardan. 

Cardan, though the moment they shared earlier was special and incredible progress, is another thing she's reluctantly filed away in her mind, because he is so different from how he used to be. 

Sure, they still hurl insults at each other more often than not, and they still bicker, they're still them, but there’s that something between them, delicate and tender, that’s been there ever since the night she returned. Cardan showers her in compliments when they're alone. He worships her body, tugs playfully on her hair, and traces the shape of her ear while she falls asleep. 

Cardan has been a dream, and Jude has been frightened that she will wake up from him, so she has kept a minuscule part of her heart guarded still, even though she knows that they are in this together and sincerely. It is painfully hard for her to be candid about what she feels with him. 

And she shouldn’t doubt, but some toxic part of her mind has led her there.

She has doubted them, and herself, and she feels crushing guilt because of it. What Nicasia said the night of the feast brought back every insecurity she felt and insult thrown at her since she was a child, though she tried not to admit it. She is still terrified of the monsters she grew up with. She is terrified of her own mortality. Terrified of not being in control. And now, terrified of losing Cardan.

It’s funny, in a way. If only she could tell her younger self just how important that absolute brat of a boy would become to her. She’d love to see the reaction. 

Staring at her own reflection, she steels herself and decides that from this day on, she will be different. She won't let herself lock the thought of them, or of him staying with her, away anymore. She wants every day to be like it was earlier. Just them being honest with one another and holding each other. Them together. Yes, she will embrace herself and her feelings and what she will become.

She is powerful. Cunning. Ambitious. Stronger than most everyone she knows. 

A queen, and rightfully so. 

There is a knock on the door from across the room behind her. Vivi enters. Jude's gaze stays locked with her own reflection.. 

"God," Vivi says. "You really look amazing, Jude." 

Jude meets her sister’s eyes through the mirror. 

"Is it time?" She's glad her own voice sounds mostly put together. It's not how she feels. 

Vivi just nods. 

Jude turns and strides out of the room, her train as heavy as everything she's felt since she was seven years old. 

*

Vivi leaves her surrounded  by guards to take her place in the crowd some distance away from her current destination. She is supposed to begin her procession at an eastern exit to the palace grounds. Her coronation will take place outside under the full moon, and the grounds have been completely transformed—with the help of the High King—so that as many Folk could come as possible. It is riskier than being inside the palace, but it is a risk they are willing to take. 

It is a special thing, the crowning of a queen. I want the entire world to see you. 

Jude stands where she is told to, exactly where she rehearsed two days prior. Hundreds upon hundreds of bodies line as far as her eyes can see. The sheer mass of creatures that gathered for her procession and crowning sends her stomach swooping.

She takes a deep breath, and she can hear the tiny gems and gold leaves on her gown clinking together as she shifts.

Her job is this: Walk through the crowd, ascend the dais, respond to the ceremonial words Cardan says to her, and wait for him to place her new crown on her head. 

It's simple, except she's sort of freaking out. 

Another deep breath. And another. 

She clenches her fists. Two attendants appear behind her to fix her train in place, fanning it out. Knights flank her sides some paces behind her.

Just breathe. 

Before she has the chance to feel prepared, magnificent music plays somewhere in the distance, but the instruments must be enchanted because it sounds like they are in a grand chamber. 

The knights lining each foot of her processional pathway stand straighter. 

Jude knows it's time to walk. 

One foot in front of the other. Just make it to him.

She steps into an old habit and lets a mask fall over her features. 

She walks.

The extent at which the grounds were remodeled is much more than she expected. Small hills have risen from the land to allow a vantage place for more eyes to see her. Wiry branches sprout from large white trees spread throughout the crowd and near her path. Lanterns harboring bright orange fire hang from them, and some places she can't make out. They glow like stars, and would provide enough light to properly let her see even if the full moon did not. 

Jude was wrong about the hundreds of attendees. There are thousands here. She squares her shoulders and keeps her chin held high. 

It really is like the entire world can see me.

Jude sees a strange, radiant light coming from the armor of the knights that she passes, and she realizes that it's from her. The firelight hitting her gown is causing her to glow. 

She must look like a deity.

Let them see what I have become. 

The flowers beneath her feet bend away from her as she passes over them. Finally, she sees the dais in the distance. Stone steps have been laid into a new hill that stands higher than the rest. Torches line the stairway and light the area at the top, where she can see Cardan beneath another white tree, bigger and more glorious than the rest. She can't see his face from this distance, but she knows he is watching her with all the rest. 

A few times, she glances to the crowd around her. She sees a mixture of emotions across different faces: there is anger, yes, but surprisingly more envy and excitement. 

Maybe they won't accept me. They will just need to learn how to live with the knowledge that I bested them all. 

She's yards from the stairway before she even realizes, but before she rises, she looks to her left. 

There is her family. 

Oak, who looks mesmerized. He's beaming at her. 

Vivi, who looks incredibly proud, smirks.

Oriana is there by Oak, and Madoc stands beside her with no weapons, Jude notices. This was a requirement for the ceremony, a safety measure. Guests must turn in all weapons and jewelry, along with anything in pockets before they arrived. 

His face is unreadable. Jude channels all of her feelings of triumph and victory into the smile she gives him.

As she reaches the first step, she sees Taryn as well. On her face is the most confusing expression she sees that night. Taryn looks, quite simply, ferociously jealous of Jude, but she seems to be genuinely smiling at her as well. 

There is no time to dwell on it.

Jude looks to the top of the dais, and thinks of nothing but who is waiting for her up there. 

Make it to him.

Her dress fans over the stairs as she climbs, the crest on the train glittering. Step by step, Cardan's face comes into view. In a far-off thought, Jude notices that his clothes match hers, but they’re less lavish. They are black and gold, with a sparse number of leaves and gemstones spread about them, but with much more embroidery than her gown. The crown on his head looks like it’s fluctuating in the firelight.

Jude’s breath hitches at the sight of him. She will never get used to his otherwordly beauty.

Cardan stares at her with such intensity that she feels the need to look away. She doesn’t, though. She gazes right back. 

Like earlier in bed, he smiles, small and just for her, as he extends his hand to her. When their fingers touch, it feels like lightning. Surely there are embers in the air, sizzling on her skin at this moment. Surely this is a dream.

Cardan leads her to where there are two matching thrones, each made of twisted, creamy white branches and solid gold, and a small, stone pillar stands to the side, holding up her crown. She does not take her eyes off of his until the moment she’s required to.

There, during the night of the full moon, on the transformed palace grounds, Jude Duarte, daughter of clay, was crowned High Queen of Elfhame. The stars in the clear skies and the lanterns around her make her form luminous as she kneels at her husband’s feet, facing the crowd. The layers of her gown and sleeves spill around her in pools of autumn and midnight. 

Her crown was made of pale gold, and the slender circlet twisted around and down onto the top of her forehead. Small stars of diamonds and moonstone spike up into the air at points around it. It had been forged by Grimsen himself, and with it came special properties. Jude told Cardan there was no need for anything other than an ordinary crown, but he bargained with and bribed Grimsen instead. She does not yet know the full extent of what magic she is supposed to feel when it is placed on her head. 

Jude stares at her radiating sleeves until Cardan has the crown in hand and stands above her. 

She knows what happens next is more formal than usual by Faerie standards, but the occasion, plus the element of her being human, calls for it, according to the Council.

Nevertheless, she braces herself for what feels like the hundredth time that day, and waits.

When Cardan speaks, his voice carries through the crowd unnaturally with magic. He speaks royally, yet softly. She knows this is for her sake. 

“With this crown, you take up the mantle of protector of the realm,” Cardan says, holding the circlet to hover over her head. Jude’s eyes go to the distant horizon. “Do you swear to defend the creatures of Faerie from those who would harm them and govern them according to the principles on which Elfhame was founded?”

“I swear,” Jude says. She doesn’t know whether or not anyone can hear her, but there’s no chance to think on it because Cardan continues.

“Do you swear absolutely to maintain and defend the realm in all of your deeds?” Still, his voice is soft.

“I swear,” she repeats. 

“Do you swear to employ all means at your disposal to preserve and promote the prosperity of the Folk and of the land,” He pauses here, taking a small breath, then begins again, his tone almost bordering wistful. “From this day until your last day?”

A breeze rolls past her. The tree above her shifts in the wind like a song.

When the wind whispers, listen closely. It is trying to tell you something.

Just for a single moment, Jude’s eyes fill with tears. She thinks of her mother’s voice.

I know you’re with me, Mom.

Jude inhales, and blinks her tears back.

“I swear, from this day until my last day.”

Cardan’s voice changes, now. He speaks with complete satisfaction and pride. 

“Long live Her Grace, Jude Duarte, High Queen of Elfhame, first of her name and protector of the realm.” 

He places the crown on her head, and Jude’s world erupts. 

It is the feeling of acid simmering like mist through her bones, like each of her atoms are being split apart and zapped back together simultaneously. Then everything stretches. 

She hears herself gasp, but she can't focus on anything except the fact that her senses have been extended for miles. 

If she were watching from the crowd, she would be able to see the air and light shifting around her, the branches of the tree reaching towards her.

Grimsen said her crown would be connected to Cardan's, but she didn't understand until now what he meant, or that he meant this.

She can feel the land beating beneath her, and the space occupied by each and every creature  in the crowd. She feels the magic in the air more than ever, and the pulse of it through the wild. She feels Cardan beside her, like a beacon drawing her in. 

This must be what Cardan feels all the time.

She realizes she's had her eyes closed, but comes back to herself when Cardan's hand brushes her bare shoulder. When she finds the strength to stand, it is with her hand in Cardan’s, and together they face their audience. For the first time since ascending the dais, she looks out to the crowd.

Her stomach flips. The Folk before her span like a sea, their faces indistinguishable. Her eyes rove the expanse of them, and the mass of them gathered on hills. Some of them judge her. Some hate her. Some envy her. Few admire her. But each and every one of them have come to see her, the human Queen of Faerie.

She sees the land before her, feels Cardan’s power pulsing through it.

This. This is hers. 

Flowers bloom and glow in the moonlight. Red vines sprout and curl down from the white trees. The colors of the fire grow hazy, then more vibrant. The very air seems ready to dance.

It’s as if the land itself has accepted her as its own. 

Only then, with one enormous voice, do their subjects speak back to them both with awe and fear and hunger. 

“Long live High Queen Jude!”

And row by row, they all bow before the King and Queen.