The Prisoner’s Throne (The Stolen Heir Duology, #2)

by Holly Black

hooves

holly black, jail for reminding me this so early on

Doublet only half-buttoned,

HOT

“You are heir to all of Elfhame,” she said as though he might have missed that bit. “It’s time to start behaving like someone who could rule. Never forget that you must inspire fear as well as love. Your sister hasn’t.”

He had three sisters, but he knew which one she meant.

JUDE <333

His sister Jude was in a gown the color of deep red roses, with high slashes on the sides so that the dress wouldn’t restrict her movements. She wore no blade at her waist, but her hair was done up in her familiar horns. Oak was almost certain she hid a small knife in one of them. She would have a few more sewn into her garment and strapped beneath her sleeves. Despite being the High Queen of Elfhame, with an army at her disposal and dozens of Courts at her command, she still acted as though she’d have to handle every problem herself—and that each one would best be solved through murder.

MY QUEEN

Beside her, Cardan was in black velvet adorned with even blacker feathers that shone like they’d been dragged through an oil spill, the darkness of his clothes the better to show off the heavy rings shining on his fingers and the large pearl swinging from one of his ears. He winked at Oak, and Oak smiled in return despite his intention to remain serious.

CARDAN MY LOVE

Vivienne giggled with her partner, Heather. Vivi was pointing to Folk in the audience and whispering into Heather’s ear.

AW THEYRE STILL TOGETHER

Not a one of them afraid of Oak, no matter what his mother hoped. Not a one afraid, no matter the blood on his hands. That he’d tricked them all so handily frightened even him.

his facade

chilly. She had never been allowed to forget that she was mortal, back when she was a child in Faerie. Now that she was queen, she never let the Folk feel entirely safe around her.

as she should tf

“Oak,” Cardan said. “Will you accept this responsibility?” No, Oak yearned to say. There is no need. The both of you will rule forever. But he hadn’t asked Oak if he wanted the responsibility, rather if he would accept it.

He could have denied Jude, but he owed all his sisters so much that it felt impossible to deny them anything. If one of them asked for the sun, he’d better figure out how to pluck it from the sky without getting burned.

Wanted to give him the world, and yet keep it from hurting him.

Oak knew he owed his family a debt so large he would never be able to repay it.

he feels sm debt and family burden

Oak knew what wanting the throne did to people. He would never be like that.

“I didn’t enjoy being a snake, and yet I appear to be doomed to be reminded of it for all eternity,” Cardan was saying, black curls falling across his face. He held a three-pronged fork aloft, as though to emphasize his point.

Cardan was spectacle incarnate and wouldn’t care if Oriana scolded him.

“I’ve never thought of Cardan as any relation of mine, but I have often resented what he took from me,” Oak reassured her. And if he shuddered a little at her touch, she might imagine it was a shudder of passion. “I have been looking for just this opportunity.” And she, misunderstanding in just the way he hoped, smiled against his skin. “And Jude isn’t your real sister.” At that, Oak smiled back but made no reply. He knew what she meant, but he could never have agreed.

????

Oak turned his attention to Cardan again, and this time the High King met his eyes. Cardan’s eyebrows rose. There was a challenge in his gaze and the promise of lazy cruelty. Game on.

??? Wtf ??? Oak??

Curious, he turned it over and then blinked down in surprise that it was a prescription. Birth control. Jude was only twenty-six. Lots of twenty-six-year-olds didn’t want kids yet. Or at all. Of course, most of them didn’t have to secure a dynasty. Most weren’t worried about cutting their little brother out of the line of succession, either. He hoped he wasn’t the reason she was taking these. But even if he wasn’t the only reason, he couldn’t help thinking he was in the mix.

“That must be what you like about me.” “That you’re terrifying?” he asked, his drawl becoming exaggeratedly languorous, almost a purr. “I adore it.”

The conspiracy would wait. It wasn’t as though they could make their move without a candidate for the throne standing by. Oak would save their father. Maybe he could never fix his family, but he could try to make up for what he’d already cost them. He could try to measure up to them. If he went, if he persuaded Wren, if they succeeded, then Madoc would live and Jude wouldn’t have to make another impossible choice.

I still don’t get the conspiracy??

Wren did it. She has released the troll kings from their bondage beneath the ground.

Or was it more true that he’d manipulated her, the way he manipulated everyone in his life? That was what he was good at, after all—tricks, games, insincerity.

Possibly Cardan would be relieved to be rid of Oak,

Oak, cardan does not hate u

Jude has been ruthless on Oak’s behalf before, but this is the first time it’s scared him. Wren is dangerous. She is not someone to cross. Neither of them are.

IM EXCITED FOR THEIR INTERACTION

What if he is a much worse person than he’s supposed?

All he can think of is Wren, whom he has every reason to fear and desires anyway. Who may be his enemy and a danger to everyone else he loves.

finger. Proof that this creature was sent from Elfhame. Proof that he was supposed to trust it. “Prinss,” it says. “In three daysssss, you mussss be ready for resssss-cue.”

It shouldn’t bother Oak, shouldn’t fill him with a ferocious jealousy.

Straun, who was, thankfully, exactly as clever as Oak had supposed him to be.

The Ghost taught him how to move stealthily, but he’s never been very good at it. He blames his hooves, heavy and hard. They clack at the worst possible times.

HOLLY PLS DONT REMIND ME

She will be angry when he talks with her, of course. He deserves her anger.

Nor is he sure what it means about him that he finds hope in the fact that Wren has kept him. Fine, not everyone would see being thrown into a dungeon as a romantic gesture, but he’s choosing to at least consider the possibility that she put him there because she wants something more from him.

Getting a glimpse of her feels more like a compulsion than a decision.

He finds her fascinating. He’s always found her fascinating, but he is not foolish enough to tell her that. Especially not in this moment, when he is afraid of her.

“A grim topic to discuss, but if that’s what you’d like to talk about, you are the host of this little get-together.…” Oak tries to sound light, unconcerned. He’s heard Cardan speak just this way on many occasions, and it disarms his audience. Oak can only hope it works that way now.

i was just thinking that! they are so alike in many ways

He ruffles the pages, thinking of how he once made a coin disappear and reappear in front of Wren. Remembering his fingers brushing against her ear, her surprised laugh.

There’s a defensiveness in her posture, as though she’s bracing for his anger. After having held him prisoner, she believes he hates her. She might still be angry with him, but she quite obviously expects him to be furious with her. And every time he behaves as though he isn’t, she thinks he’s playing a trick.

“Am I to advise you how best to deceive me?” she says, and he knows they are no longer just talking about his bruises.

After all, she wouldn’t be the first person he liked who tried to kill him. She wouldn’t even be the first person he loved who tried to kill him.

“I would prefer not to return to them,” Oak admits. “But if I had to remain there to be here, then I have none at all.”

Oooh

“You need not love me,” she tells him. “What if I did? If I do?” Oak has proclaimed his love to people before, but that felt like play and this feels like pain. Maybe it’s because she sees him, and no one else has. The illusion he wears is much easier to love than what’s underneath.

“Do not think I will be flattered because you think me a better opponent and therefore set me a more careful romantic riddle to solve. I need no protestations of your feelings. Love can be lost, and I am done with losing.”

never pretended to feelings that weren’t real,” he manages. She watches him, her body tense, her eyes haunted. “Never? In the Court of Moths, would you really have endured my kiss if you didn’t think you needed me on your quest?” He snorts in surprise. “I would have endured it, yes. I would endure it again right now.” A slight rosiness comes into her cheeks. “That’s not fair.” “This is nonsensical. Surely you could tell I liked it,” he says. “I even liked it when you bit me. On the shoulder, remember? I might have a few tiny scars yet from the points of your teeth.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” she tells him, annoyed.

THeyre so funny

Against the ice of the wall, as though a piece of decor, hangs Valen’s body.

Oak’s problem was that he thought of sword fighting as a game and didn’t want to hurt anyone. Games were supposed to be fun. Then, after a lot of scolding, he understood sword fighting as a deadly game and still didn’t want to hurt anyone.

He could feel himself slipping into that state of not quite awareness. Like times that he was daydreaming on the walk to school and got there without remembering being on the route. Like when he gave over to his gancanagh magic and let it turn his words to honey.

This is what he was talking about before!

Soldiers marching toward the Citadel. The snake promised that in three days’ time, someone would rescue him. What he didn’t expect was that it would be the entire army of Elfhame.

“How about no one dies? Let’s try for that!” Oak snaps, his voice loud enough to echo in the room.

“So I find the person who gave her the poison. Or try, at least—and you remove the bridle,” Oak says. “I agree.” “Bring me the hand of the person responsible for her death,” Hyacinthe says. “You want a hand?” Oak raises both brows. “That hand, I do.” Oak doesn’t have time to negotiate. “Fine.”

Who is it????