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The High King of Elfhame. A powerful title. A monstrous one if used to the wrong hands. Cruel and wicked and that was what Cardan had been seen as since he was a Prince. Unloving and unlovable. Raised outside of the palace and in the possession of Hollow Hall instead. Growing under the influence of his oldest brother and used more times than he could count. Beaten and hurt and harmed for the fact that he refused to kill.
Each spark of goodness inside of him crushed and broken until his heart became riddled with bruises and worms like a rotting apple.
Cardan had been a Prince who was taught that blood and beatings and pain were synonyms for love. That the tender and loving care he saw in books strictly belonged to humans who fell in love with fiction. The ones that saw nothing of reality inside the world. He believed that they were only for stories. That real love was violent.
He found it with a knife against his throat. With rope around his wrists. With sharp words and cunning behavior. He found it with Jude. The mortal that had found a way to make a heart of stone beat again. To make him feel things he believed were impossible to feel. To turn him from something sharp and cruel and monstrous to something more gentle.
Teeth that bit that turned to lips that caressed. Eyes that scowled that turned to eyes that admired. Hands that harmed turned to hands that held.
He had her. Both of them learning to remove the embedded pieces of their armor until they were bare to one another. Until they knew each and every detail of one another as well as they knew the patterns of their own breaths. They knew everything. No more secrets. No more lies. All of their plans were shared with one another. All their expressions were known.
Maybe that was why Cardan didn’t feel afraid now. Maybe that was why all he felt was anger. Anger at himself and the situation he’d managed to get himself into.
His knees dug hard into the ground of his palace. He was furious with himself for being careless. For not watching for himself well enough. He had been more worried for Jude than he was himself. More worried for her lack of magic and her mortality. He had told her that he would be fine in the palace with his connection to the land and his wealths of magic.
That was what he’d believed.
Two days ago the Court of Shadows had informed them of whispers of a rebellion. That there were people that were still somehow loyal to Balekin and Dain even after both of their deaths and everything that happened. He had thought they were going to be mainly empty. That they wouldn’t gain traction.
Jude wanted to investigate further. He’d had her take knights with her as well as the Shadows. He wanted to make sure that if his Queen was going to be headed into the mouth of danger that she learned she did not have to do it on her own. That was one of the hardest things he thought Jude was going to have to learn. She would figure it out eventually, he was sure. She just wasn’t there yet.
Cardan thought the palace would be enough to guard him. That he would sense something was off. That he would know an attack if it would come. He might not kill but he could restrain all he’d liked. He had done it with enemies before and he would not hesitate to do it again.
He hadn’t thought his food would be poisoned until it he was feeling the impact of it. The hallways of his palace blurring around him. Cardan was used to having his senses dulled. He was accustomed to feeling his control melt away from him but there was the shape of someone in the hall and he couldn’t focus enough to see who it was.
He’d heard the tutt. He’d felt the metal and leather as it pulled over his face. Locking over his mouth and jaw. Keeping him silent. Keeping him tame.
He tried to draw on his magic only to find a hollow where it should have been.
“The muzzle works. Grimsen you evil genius.”
He was dead. He’d died to the serpent.
“We have the High King captive.”
He wanted to argue. He couldn’t move his mouth. He couldn’t form the words. The muzzle locking him into silence so severe that all he could do was glare.
“Silent. What you were supposed to be. Either of your brothers would have been a better King than you.”
They’d dragged him to the throne room. His staff and his knights were gone. Not a single guard in sight. His vision blurring and doubling and the poison worked to make sure he couldn’t move to fight for himself. The muzzle keeping him silent. Keeping him from using his magic to free himself.
Cardan was stuck on his knees. A position he was more than familiar with from all the times Balekin had placed him into it. He was ready to face whatever they did to him. He was ready to challenge it.
Jude would be coming.
She was set to be home soon. They would miss their meal together but they would get to spend the waning time of their waking hours together. She would come home to this. She would get him out. She would save him.
He tried to keep his expression steady. To show that he was angry about this more than he was hurt. He had scared her too many countless other times in their past and he did not want to do it again. He didn’t know what he was poisoned with but it wasn’t strong enough to kill him. The only symptom he was feeling was dizziness and weakness.
Cardan felt like he blinked and the room was filled with people in front of him.
Maybe there were more symptoms than he realized.
“People of Elfhame!”
He tried to move. He couldn’t.
“This is meant to be your King!”
He was their King. They had accepted him. They had chosen to swear to him.
“A failure!”
His head was spinning. He couldn’t tell if the shadows in the rafters were moving or if it was his sight.
“Powerless!”
He was only powerless because of the muzzle strapped to his face. He was only powerless because of what they’d done to him.
“He is fallen!”
Cardan wanted to argue but he could feel now how his heart was beating in his chest. The way it seemed like it was failing inside of him. His fingers had turned to pins and needles. He couldn’t feel hardly any of his body by this point. His breaths fading to shallow puffs that weren’t enough. It felt like the muzzle was poisoning him more and more. As if the magic of it was enforcing his body to fail.
“The High King is—”
Cardan hit the ground. His shoulder landing hard and his head soon after it. The dias as unforgiving as ever. He saw shapes in the shadows that looked like people. He heard the muffled sounds of fighting around him. He wanted to yell out. He wanted to shout that Jude was to stay away. He wanted to tell her he was sorry. That he was scared. That he loved her.
He did not want to die without telling her he loved her.
“Cardan?”
Hands were under his head. Working on the straps and buckles that were holding the muzzle into place over his face. The moment it was removed he could breathe again. Choking and coughing and ever so gently he felt hands turning him to his side so he could heave and breathe. He let his eyes slide closed. Feeling how merciful the dark was around him as feeling seeped back into his limbs.
“Everyone out!”
It was a poor move. He needed to show he was strong. He needed to show that their enemies had not won. All he could muster was a shake of his head. His throat burning when he wanted to speak. His mouth not yet cooperating with him.
He saw knights holding his attackers restrained. Three of them. None of them remarkable enough for him to know who they were.
“Cardan?”
Jude was with him. She was worried.
Cardan opened the land beneath the attackers. Watching it consume them up to their waists. Higher and higher up to their chests. He listened to them starting to scream. He had roots move to their mouths as gags.
His people were still watching. His heart was beating too fast. Jude was supporting him. She could see the hurt beneath his wrath. He still didn't speak but Jude did it for him.
“Take them to the dungeons. Everyone else, leave. Now.”
They waited until it was only them, their shadows, and knights. Until they were safe enough for Jude to help him to stand and walk them through the halls to their chambers. Until they were making it to the bed and she was watching him close.
“Cardan? Talk to me?”
He found his words caught in his throat.
“Cardan?”
She was trying to make sure that he could. She was trying to ensure that he wa safe. That he was truly alright. He didn’t have the answer to that. He didn’t know what would be lie and what would be truth.
He only knew one thing was certain. He had thought about what he wanted to say when he couldn’t. What he was afraid he wouldn’t get the chance to speak again.
What he would speak now.
“I love you.”