The Queen of Nothing (The Folk of the Air, #3)

by Holly Black

“Greetings, Your Majesty, you betraying toad.” No, that wouldn’t work, no matter how good it felt.

“I am out of work, and it seems the High Court is in need of a general.”

“Let me take you back to the camp, Jude,” Madoc says. “You’re dying.”

“She is my wife,” Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. “The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile.”

His white sleeves are rolled up, and he’s washing my hands with a wet cloth. Getting the blood off them.

“Mortals are fragile,” I say. “Not you,” he says in a way that sounds a little like a lament. “You never break.”

Still, I like hearing it. I like everything he’s saying all too well. That boy is your weakness.

I suppose I am not an easy person to trust. And maybe I ought not to be trusted, but let me say this: I trust you.”

“Poisoned?”

“Long live Jude,” she says with a wink, setting down the tray on a table with a clatter of the pots and saucers and whatnot. “No thanks to me.”

I grin. “Good thing you’re a lousy shot.”

Cardan calls for the guard and draws a wicked-looking knife from inside his doublet, surprising me. That’s got to be the Roach’s influence.

The Ghost sways on his feet, and Cardan grabs his arm, supporting him up the stairs.

“He was trying to impress you, you know. Talking to me.”

“Many think that, but few are bold enough to say it to my face.”

I could warn Randalin that he ought to be afraid of the way that Cardan is looking at him.

“Jude, would you give me and the councilor a moment alone? I have a few things I would like to urge him to consider. And Grima Mog has brought you soup.”

“Mock me all you like. Whatever I imagined then, now it is I who would beg and grovel for a kind word from your lips.” His eyes are black with desire. “By you, I am forever undone.”

I can’t believe he said that and then just walked out, leaving me reeling. I am going to strangle him.

Once this is over, I will find the bravery to tell him.

The Folk here are my sworn subjects, and your insults are dull.”

“A king is not his throne nor his crown,”

I am the High King, and I do not forfeit that title to you, not for a sword or a show or my pride. It is worth more than any of those things.”

“When I was born, there was a prophecy that were I to rule, I would be the destruction of the crown and the ruination of the throne.”

They have chosen him. They are giving him their fealty. We have won.

“I need to find the Royal Astrologer.”

“I love you, Liliver. I’ve loved you from the first hour of our meeting. I loved you and despaired. Before I die, I want you to know that.”

I hate that he loves you.”

And he sent you a gown. For the coronation.”

A thousand times more beautiful than the dress I commissioned.

And I saw the way you used to look at him when you didn’t think anyone was watching you.”

“I do love you,” I whisper. “I will always love you.”

From within the body of the creature emanates a glow.

He gives me a dazzling, insouciant smile. The kind of smile you can hide behind. “Every part of me is a delight.”

“Or because I was under a curse. I have asked you to lie to me in the past, in this very room, but I would beg you not to lie now.”

“Because I am clever and funny,” he says, smiling. “You didn’t mention my handsomeness.”

one masked figure takes another’s gloved hand.

“Good-bye, Father,” I whisper as he is led away. I say it softly, and I do not think he hears me.

What I don’t expect is that Cardan offers to journey with us.

Oak looks scandalized by this pronouncement and starts explaining about different toppings,

he appears merely curious, his gaze going to the lit windows and then toward the roar of the nearby highway.

“What did you do?” Cardan asks. “Beat Grima Mog in a duel,” I say.

Heather and Vivi have tied up a silvery banner that reads CONGRATULATIONS, NEWLYWEDS! in bright colors.

And Cardan looks a little shy in the face of all this happiness, as unused to it as I am.