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“...there is no feasible way for us to replace that source of labor,” explains Randalin, peevishly narrowing his eyes. “Unless you suggest we switch the mortal servants with lower born fey, which would be-”
“Do that.” I drawl, not even bothering to address the pitiful old hob. Cardan’s hand rests against my upper thigh, pulling me against him so that I’m almost perched on his lap. It’s difficult to look dignified in such a position.
“B-but unlike mortals, the fey cannot be glamoured!” Randalin nearly screeches.
Cardan laughs. “Yes, that’s the idea.” His hand slides beneath my thighs, and I shift slightly to dig my elbow into his ribs.
“Does anyone else have qualms with this solution?” I address the rest of the Living Council, who lounge against couches and in front of the smoldering fire. Grima Mog is picking her fingernails with the blade of a small dagger, but she looks up long enough to give me a toothy smirk.
Cardan grasps my waist and all but drags me from the meeting, grinning conspiratorially. I roll my eyes as I’m ushered through the estate until we reach the beginnings of the hedge maze. Vibrant flowers bloom, and vines crawl along the leafed walls. The air is heavy with the scent of jasmine. He begins to pull me through the entrance, but I tug back.
“Where are you taking me?”
“I cannot tell you. It's a surprise.” He winks flirtatiously, cheek dimpling with a grin.
I give up and follow him through the winding maze. We walk and walk. I make a game of kicking my heavy skirts upwards with each step. After a short while, I feel his hand on my shoulder, steering me a different way. A few more minutes pass, and we make another turn. And another.
“Did you get lost?” I poke at him.
He looks offended. “Never!”
After one final turn, the cobblestone beneath our feet gives way to sand. Before us is a beautiful lake, concealed within the hedges. Fluorescence glimmers along the waves, giving way to deep blue.
“See,” Cardan says, “I told you.” But his voice has softened, taken on a solemn edge.
He looks toward the glowing water, throat bobbing.
I fist my hands in my skirts, attempting to conceal my nervousness.
“Would you like to swim?” He asks quietly, fiddling with the top button of his shirt.
“There aren’t any nixies in there?” I tease.
He shakes his head. He’s biting his lip, eyes shining.
I smile a little, exposing my back to him, and his fingers gently unlace my dress. I don’t miss their shaking.
Faerie fruit hangs heavy from the surrounding trees, rotting golden and sweet along the shores. Abruptly, I recall sliding off my clothes on a very different night, mind clouded.The titters of our classmates echoing in my ears.
The warm grasp of Cardan’s hands as he pricked my finger, barely controlled rage in his eyes.
Judging by his clenched jaw, he’s remembering that night as well.
The skirts of my dress fall around my calves, and I step free. Cardan’s lips part slightly, the outline of his tongue visible through his cheek.
His eyes stay pinned to mine as he deftly pulls off his vest and trousers. His shirt takes the longest to unbutton, and he nearly growls in frustration.
I laugh, but my heart feels as though it will burst from my chest.
There’s a tearing sound, and the scraps of Cardan’s shirt fall to the earth. He comes to me slowly, moonlight casting a silver sheen over the contours of his body.
His limbs are lean and muscled.
His arousal is incredibly evident.
My breath catches.
His eyes watch me uncertainly. I notice the furred tip of his tail lashing from side to side, betraying his anxiety.
As I cross the distance to him, his ardent gaze falls lower along my body. My face heats, and I’m deeply grateful that I do not have a tail of my own. It would betray me every time he comes near.
When I kiss his neck, a shiver wracks his body despite the humid night. Grasping my thighs, he lifts me against him. I cling to him as he slides into the water, fluorescence coming to life with our splashes. The lake slips like satin around us, warm as the night air.
I rest my head against his neck as we move deeper. A small wave buffets us, nearly knocking me over his shoulder. He catches me with a surprised laugh, preventing me from slipping.
I can’t smile.
I am watching the fluorescence stream down his back, illuminating a tapestry of scars.
A small, silly part of myself had hoped that the beating I’d witnessed was a rare occurrence. That Balekin was not cruel enough to do it more frequently.
So many scars. Nearly a decade’s worth.
Cardan’s hands are gentle on my waist as he brings me back around, kissing me deeply. I close my eyes. Immediately, he pulls back, scanning me. His face is clouded with worry.
I realize that I am gripping his shoulders like a life line.
“Jude.”
“Cardan,” I whisper. “Your back.” My voice breaks on the last word.
He tilts his head for a moment before he realizes.
He goes rigid beneath me, every ounce of emotion draining from his expression.
He wore the same blankness in his face as he bowed beneath Balekin’s belt. His eyes are trained over my head, staring into the darkness.
It makes me want to scream. Instead, I touch his cheek.
“Look at me.” I beg.
‘So long as you’re begging,’ he’d said to me in the mortal world a few months ago. He was bleeding, face tilted towards the morning sky.
Cardan looks at me. And his mask slides into place as he smiles brightly.
My chest begins to ache. A dull, throbbing pain.
“Oh, Cardan.” I lean forwards and wrap my arms around his stiff body. He’s so warm. Before I loved him, I thought it was ironic that such a cold person could emit so much heat.
When I pull back, the smile is still pasted on his face, but his eyes shine with tears.
I trace the corner of it with my finger, and his lips tremble.
“It’s not your fault.”
He laughs bitterly at that, startling me. “Yes it fucking was. He…” His voice cracks. “He only did it to teach me. And it worked.”
“It was cruel,” I reply. “You didn’t deserve it.”
He shakes his head. Water drips from his black curls.
“I saw it,” I say.
His eyes darken. “When?”
“When Dain first enlisted me as a spy. I was in Balekin’s estate…I hadn’t realized you lived there…you came into the room and I hid beneath a chair.”
He smiles less forcefully. “You’re lucky my brother was feeling kind that day. He enjoyed tying me to that chair.”
“You could have killed the human servant so easily.”
“I’m no murderer,” he says softly. “That’s what I told Balekin.”
I nod. “And then you were lying on the floor, and I could see your face,” I swallow. “You weren’t there.”
My hand is splayed against his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat pulsing painfully.
A single tear rolls down his cheek.
“Can I see?” I ask quietly, afraid that he’ll refuse. Afraid that he’ll paste another smile on his face, and we will never truly see each other.
But his mouth twists in a soft, painful smile. Slowly, he turns, stirring more fluorescence in the dark lake.
My breath is stolen from me.
Hundreds of scars decorate his broad back. Some are faint and flat, some puckered and brightly lit in the glowing water. Each has a soft silver sheen.
I'm afraid that I am crying.
“I was a disobedient child,” Cardan whispers.
His back is the color of moonlight, as though someone painted him in angry, lashing strokes.
He turns to meet my eyes, face clouded with shame.
“I will always have this part of me that is ugly. They will not go away.” He watches me as though he expects me to leave. His mouth is set in a grim line. I shake my head, staring into his deep, sad eyes. “They’re beautiful.”
His face goes slack, and I’m afraid he’s donning the mask again, but instead he lifts me against him, swaying in the waves. He lets his head drop into the crook of my neck as he begins to cry quietly.
I wrap my legs around his waist and bury my hands in his hair, and I hope he realizes that I love him more than he could know.