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A thousand moths fluttered around Jude’s gauzy dress, flapping against her layered skirts. Beside her, Cardan eyed the winged insects with little interest, his frown permanently plastered just as his arms were permanently crossed. He absolutely detested faerie animals, peskier than the Fae and without the obligation to actually obey him. Even more so, they were interrupting the precious minutes Jude put aside for their date today. She did not seem to share his frustrations though, only giggling at the moths and their silly antics.
“Let's visit the mortal land,” Cardan finally said, eager to leave the Palace gardens. Jude did not seem to share his impatience, laughing some more before finally dragging herself closer towards him. The moths tried to follow but did not, warded off by Cardan’s glare. “To Maine. You brought me to all sorts of unique places but I've yet to see the neighbourhood you grew up in.” She’d brought him to Disneyland before, to the theme parks and the pricey restaurants but never did Jude actually bring him to the places that truly touched her heart. “Jude?”
She sighed, shrugging her shoulders but did not decline. “I wish you would've told me before I put on this frivolous gown,” she grumbled, plucking an ordinary-looking plant. “The humans find our Folk-wear amusing, I'm not in the mood to be pointed and laughed at.” Cardan pressed her against his side, squishing the layers of fabric. He wondered if she'd even gone through the troubles of latching on a hoopskirt as well.
“If they point and laugh, it will be at me for my frivolous doublet. Don't ridicule yourself, dear wife. I will always be the fool of us two.” That allowed a small laugh, and a painful swat on his shoulder. “Do you think your childhood friends still live nearby? You know of my companions, it is only right I know of yours.” The plant earlier must’ve been ragwort because she pressed it insistently against his chest, staring at him pointedly, expectantly. “Forgive me for mistaking ragwort for ordinary weed,” Cardan said, casting the enchantment. Two ponies appeared, one for each since he knew Jude found riding with him a not so joyous ride. “gallop through the skies and notice my fall only when I hit the ground,” she once said. “I would have thought you’d prefer delaying the inevitable.”
Journeys by ragwort were never pleasant, Cardan despised how he’d have to angle his legs and the potential creases it would eventually cause. Besides, they were a hassle to summon and he never knew which herb was ragwort or just another plant to begin with. And the journey would take disgustingly long, the discomfort amplified by each excruciating second. The worst part; Cardan would not speak with Jude throughout the entire ride. Winds were always too fierce, another force of nature eager to strain his marriage.
“What’s the agenda?” He yelled over the wind though he knew it was futile.
Jude’s brows crinkled in confusion, her human ears failing to catch the sound. So when they finally landed, Cardan repeated the question. “What’s the agenda?” Jude pursed her lips, thinking. Even in Elfhame, Cardan was responsible for scheduling the parties, setting each detail to best fit the vision in his mind. Unfortunately Jude did not possess the same skill set, her mind seemingly blanking upon each plan related prompt. “I miss cheeseburgers.”
“Cheeseburgers it is.”
He held out a hand, eager to touch her skin. She ignored it, trudging on through the grassy field. The frivolous skirts brushed against the grass, now stained with the brown of mud. If only the earth knew how marvellous the fabric was, how beautiful the woman wearing it looked. If the wet dirt and yucky puddles were sentient entities, they too would bow down in worship towards Jude Duarte, repelling her and her gown from the yuck of the mortal lands. Until a time like so could come though, Cardan could not do much as he trailed after his wife, admiring the scene around him.
Perhaps he’d been mistaken. This was not a field, just a patch of grassland within a less-frequented park. If anyone noticed their descent from the skies, no one commented. Nor did anyone breathe an audible word about Cardan’s wardrobe concoction today (an embroidered doublet with a tiered layer of feathers beginning at the high collar neckline). Contrary to Jude’s initial belief, no one pointed and laughed at her dress either though the organza explosion did garner a few curious onlookers. Once, Cardan saw a young girl keeping pace behind them, ready to ask before she lost courage at the final moment. He wished she’d asked anyway. It would be a delight to entertain mortal naive children and whatever she said would be good ammunition for teasing too.
“Where is this cheeseburger place again?”
They’d only decided after they landed. Had she planned a strategic landing location, somewhere nearby every sort of restaurant? Or had Jude simply led the two of them into the first grassland she saw? Although he had yet to bring it up since the pony ride, he was curious to know if this was truly the neighbourhood in Maine she’d grown up in. “Did you eat cheeseburgers often? Before…”
Her family history bothered Jude little, Cardan knew. The Folk whispered it like fresh morning gossip sometimes and she’d heard the rumours all throughout her childhood. Faerie culture normalised bloodshed and since she’d spent the better part of her life in Elfhame, among bloodthirsty faerie, she’d assimilated well. Even adopting her stepfather’s temper and sword skill though Cardan supposed Jude Duarte had always been destined for greatness, a ruthless sort of glory. He wondered if Madoc were the slightest bit kinder then would Jude have been here at all?
“Before I move to Elfhame? Yeah, we had it once a week. I was good friends with the diner’s owner and her child.” At this, he raised a curious eyebrow. Jude never spoke much of her childhood, almost the entirety of it he’d already known since he was there tormenting her. Cardan wanted, no, needed to hear these little crumbs that drew out the constellation that was Jude Duarte. He craved to know the little quirks of her personality and how it came to be at all. Like her irrational fear of mandarin oranges since she’d choked on the juice of one when she had been seven. That little tidbit he’d only found out when Taryn returned with a bag of mortal fruits and adamantly refused to say what it was with Jude present.
“Sometimes, after school I’d eat here, sometimes with Taryn, sometimes alone. The owner’s child and I would make up stories, trying to guess how our future would look. Many foolish theories were made, some that came true for me though I don’t know for him.” As she nonchalantly drops this significant pronoun (Cardan had been imagining her friend to be a shapeless shadow that spoke gibberish, not a guy friend), she pushed a glass door open. Too enraptured with his own thoughts and Jude in general, he’d missed the diner sign though his nose did sense the smell of cheeseburgers. He’d only had them once, courtesy of Vivi freshly returned after splurging on groceries, eager to treat her younger sister and her brother in law. Vivi’s cooking had been abysmal at best but Cardan recognised the scent of patties.
As the glass door shut behind him, a tickling ‘ring’ echoed through the cosy room. Cardan wondered if anything had changed at all since the last time Jude had been here. He turned to ask, eager to hear more stories from her childhood. Her eyes were shimmering with something not unlike nostalgia, mouth agape in muted surprise. She looked beautiful, he wished he’d thought of dragging her to the mortal land for cheeseburgers sooner. What was she thinking of? About another time when she’d been one feet shorter, clothed in another attire, with another person?
“Mum, did we have a princess reservation today?” a voice rang out from behind the counter. Cardan knew little of the mortal world but he knew enough to recognise what a bar seating looked like. High chairs pushed against a counter, hopefully the chairs here spun. “Sorry miss, you must have mistaken this humble diner for your castle—JUDE DUARTE?”
The rude boy leaped over the counter, landing casually on his feet before enveloping Jude in his arms. The frown/scowl on Cardan’s face was instantaneous. He held strong views against murder, a strong aversion to the violent act. The one line he refused to ever cross, the one crime he promised himself to never ever commit. But his belief was quivering now, did the universe have to ruin his one date with Jude Duarte? Cardan had no weapons on his being but he was strangely attuned to the earth below them. Though perhaps it would’ve been much more satisfying to crush this man’s skull between his hands.
Just as he was about to reach for the human, Jude shrugged him away, turning to hug a woman on the other side of the counter. The owner of this diner, Cardan assumed, the mother who raised this poorly behaved boy. Even he, raised in the childish vile court, knew of manners and the necessity for them. He especially knew not to hug other people’s wives too, that was a great sin. One Cardan would have begun telling the boy but he’d already launched into conversation, the two of them already done with their greetings. “Oh, and my husband, Cardan.”
“Greg, a pleasure, Mr Cardan.” The boy held out a hand, stained with ink and something sticky looking. Perhaps an abhorrent mixture of grease and sweat. When enough moments passed in awkward silence, Greg shrugged his shoulders and turned once more towards Jude. Cardan unpursed his lips in protest but he saw the sharp glare Jude threw his way: don’t be a douchebag. Well, if he must! He trusted Jude enough to not run away with the mortal. Maybe a sentiment Madoc had shared all those years ago. A dark thought but one that amused Cardan anyway. He settled into a seat and told the owner he’d like two cheeseburgers. The middle-aged lady smiled, hurrying somewhere he assumed was to be the kitchen.
“You upgraded your fashion sense!” Greg gushed. Cardan fiddled with his fork, trying to rid his thoughts of scraping out the human’s eyes. “You wouldn’t have been caught dead in a dress back then, much less this poofy puff.” This caught Cardan’s attention though, more stories about Jude’s childhood. “I still remember that one Tuesday when your mother made you and Taryn wear that glittery gown for your grandaunt’s birthday. You never shut up about how uncomfortable it was. Now look how far you’ve come!”
“Taryn teased me ceaselessly about that horrid dress.”
“Speaking of your twin sister, how is she? Has she married too?”
Eager for an excuse to spook Greg, Cardan replied on Jude’s behalf. “Taryn wedded a previous friend of mine.”
“Oh that’s great… previous?”
“Yes, she killed him afterward.” That prompted a sound not unlike that of one choking on their own saliva. “With a letter opener, wasn’t it?” Cardan smiled at Jude, rejoicing at the barest tug on her lips. She found this equally as amusing, the only thing preventing an unbridled grin being the sake of propriety.
“Remember our game, where we joked about what would happen to each of us? I told you she would end up killing a spouse!” Jude giggled. Perhaps being in this mortal’s presence was not such a crime. Tormenting him seemed to greatly amuse Jude. “What about you? What was it we decided about you?”
“That I would end up loving my mother and this diner more than myself?” Greg grinned. “It was true. It turned out I do enjoy working here, it’s easy work and people seem to love the cheeseburgers.” Just as he said it, his mother returned with the plate of two cheeseburgers, adorned with sesame seeds and an extra helping of salty fries. This patty looked nothing like the revolting meat cake Vivi concocted, it looked quite edible. More than edible, actually. As conversation between the two resumed, Cardan took a healthy bite of his burger. The bun was soft, his teeth sinking right through. The patty was hot but it tasted exquisite, worth burning his tongue over.
“I remember you made a vow yourself, Jude.”
For reasons unbeknownst to Cardan, Jude’s cheeks pinked. Was the vow embarrassing in nature? A stupid pact Jude had made in her younger years? This greatly intrigued him, little embarrassed Jude Duarte. “Well, what is it?” Cardan prompted though the words came out in a jumbled manner, muffled by the food still in his mouth, yet to be swallowed.
“She promised to marry one of royalty when she’d been younger. One could argue it is an impossible feat, almost as hard as Taryn’s if not harder.” Carden snickered. Indeed, it was impossible. “Anyway, are you and your husband actors just returned from a grand play set in some sort of fairytale? I see no reason to be clad in such clothing.” Greg eyed Cardan’s frock with such humour it returned Cardan’s need for blood. “Your vow is not done if it only through a fictional setting. You have to actually marry a prince or a king.”
“Only a prince or a king?” Cardan scoffed. “My wife does not have such low standards.”
“What?”
“I married a High King,” Jude grinned smugly though Greg’s brain seemed to have been lost somewhere down the road. He did not look surprised or happy or upset. In fact, his one reaction seems to be confused. Then, laughter. “Oh, Jude, I thought you are the realistic one of us three. Taryn had her illusions of true love and I had mine of being free to do as I wished. You were the only one who steadfastly maintained the fact that neither of these wishes were ever going to happen. That’s why there was that dare at all, remember?”
“Well, I am a High King of a kingdom you will never know.”
He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Eat your cheeseburger else it gets cold.” Cardan noticed Jude deflating ever the slightest bit. He understood why this puny human could not comprehend the fact that faerie kingdoms existed. But Cardan did not see why it was so difficult for Greg to just nod along to not ruin Jude’s mood. “A kingdom I will never know,” he scoffed, turning away.
That was perhaps the last straw. Cardan summoned the roots below to reach up. The earth’s limbs broke through the diner’s tiled floors, wrapping around Greg’s twig-like figure. “Let me tell you a little story about a land called Elfhame,” Cardan said between bites. The burger really was good. He wondered if he could offer the owner a deal. “They say the first ruler summoned the earth from the Undersea, enchanting the sand to become fertile sand for her subjects to live on. This great power, it is inherited by the next ruler, and the next and the next. Until it comes to me.” He clenched his fist, the roots tightening their hold. “So let me assure you, despite your negligence to educate yourself about some kingdoms, they do in fact, exist.”
Cardan released his hold, both him and Jude completing their burgers at the same time. They truly were soulmates. He searched around for the owner, finding her balled up on the other side of the counter. “Do you cook these burgers yourself?”
“Y-yes,” she stuttered.
“Well, then I have a business proposal for you. Every second evening of the week, Elfhame will send a delegate. Please prepare two cheeseburgers just like the one I just had. In return, I’ll…” He searched the ground with his power, reaching around until his magic finally grasped a pile of jewels. Buried there perhaps centuries ago. “I understand you mortals use the concept of paper money? Elfhame does not have that, unfortunately but I also understand that gold may be interchangeable with the paper sometimes?”
She nodded.
“Very well, what is your name again?”
“Alice Bright.”
“Alice Bright, do you accept my business proposal?” She nodded. “Well then! Elfhame will pay for the repairs but for now, here is some… gold? Well, whatever this is, I assure you this is the real deal. And do learn to teach your son manners next time.” To Jude, he said, “Sorry for ruining our date.”
“Well, he ruined it first,” Jude smiled, thoroughly amused. “We should get ice cream next, maybe you could bury the old man underground this time. He’s always so grumpy when it comes to serving me.”
“Lead the way, my dear wife.” He offered his hand and this time Jude took it, gripping it gently though it warmed his skin nonetheless. The layers of her dress swayed as she walked, grazing Greg who was still on the floor wrapped in the roots. “Should we cut him free?” Jude asked in mock pity.
“Oh, then it will ruin all the fun.”