“Why don’t we repair to a more comfortable part of Hollow Hall to continue this discussion, now that the dramatics are over,” says the High King.
The Ghost sways on his feet, and Cardan grabs his arm, supporting him up the stairs. In the parlor, one of the guards brings blankets. I start building the fire. Taryn looks as though she wants to tell me to stop but doesn’t quite dare.
“So I take it you were ordered to—what? Murder me if an opportunity presented itself?” Cardan paces restlessly.
The Ghost nods, pulling the blankets closer around him. His hazel eyes are dull, and his dark blond hair is in messy tangles. “I hoped our paths wouldn’t cross and dreaded what would happen if they did.”
“Yes, well, I suppose that we’re both lucky Taryn was helpfully lurking about the palace,” says Cardan.
“I will not go to my husband’s house until I am sure Jude isn’t in any danger,” she says.
“Jude and I had a misunderstanding,” Cardan says carefully. “But we’re not enemies. And I am not your enemy, either, Taryn.”
“You think everything’s a game,” she says. “You and Locke.”
“Unlike Locke, I never thought love was a game,” he says. “You may accuse me of much, but not that.”
“Garrett,” I interrupt, in desperation, because I am not sure I want to hear more. “Is there anything you can tell us? Whatever Madoc is planning, we need to know.”
He shakes his head. “The last time I saw him, he was furious. With you. With himself. With me, once he knew that you’d discovered I was there. He gave me my orders and sent me off, but I don’t think he’d intended to send me so soon.”
I nod. “Right. He had to move up the timetable.” When I left, the sword was far from finished. That had to have been frustrating, to be forced to act before he was entirely ready.
I don’t believe Madoc knows I am the queen. I don’t think he even knows I am alive. That’s got to be worth something.
“If the Council finds out we have Orlagh’s attacker in custody, things will not go well,” Cardan says with sudden decision. “They will urge me to hand you over to the Undersea to curry favor for Elfhame. It will be only a matter of time before Nicasia knows you are in our hands. Let’s take you back to the palace and put you in the Bomb’s custody. She can decide what to do with you.”
“Very well,” the Ghost says with some combination of resignation and relief.
Cardan calls for his carriage again. Taryn yawns as she climbs inside, sitting next to the Ghost.
I lean my head against the window, only half-listening as Cardan manages to persuade my sister to tell him a little bit about the mortal world. He sounds delighted at her description of slushy machines, with their violently bright colors and sugary strangeness. She is halfway through an explanation of gummy worms when we are back at the palace and climbing down from the carriage.
“I will escort the Ghost to where he’ll be residing,” Cardan tells me. “Jude, you ought to rest.”
It seems impossible that it was just today I woke from some drugged sleep, just today the Bomb took out my stitches.
“I’ll walk you back to your rooms,” Taryn says with something of the conspiratorial, leading me in the direction of the royal chamber.
I go with her down the hall, two of the royal guard following us at a discreet distance.
“Do you trust him?” she whispers when Cardan is no longer within earshot.
“Sometimes,” I admit.
She gives me a sympathetic look. “He was nice in the carriage. I didn’t know he knew how to be nice.”
That makes me laugh. At the door to my chambers, she puts her hand on my arm. “He was trying to impress you, you know. Talking to me.”
I frown. “I think he just wanted to hear about weird candy.”
She shakes her head. “He wants you to like him. But just because he wants you to doesn’t mean you should.” Then she leaves me to go inside the enormous royal chambers alone.
I take off my dress and hang it over a screen. I borrow another of Cardan’s ridiculous ruffly shirts and put it on, then I climb into the big bed. My heart thumps nervously in my chest as I pull up to my shoulders a coverlet embroidered with a hunting stag.
Our marriage is an alliance. It is a bargain. I tell myself that it doesn’t have to be more than that. I try to tell myself that Cardan’s desire for me has always been mixed up with disgust and that I am better off without it.
I fall asleep waiting for the sound of the door opening, for his step on the wooden floor.
But when I wake, I am still alone. No lamps are lit. No pillows moved. Nothing is changed. I sit upright.
Perhaps he spent all the rest of the morning and afternoon in the Court of Shadows, playing darts with the Ghost and checking on the Roach’s healing. But I can more easily imagine him in the great hall, overseeing the last dregs of the night’s revelry and swilling gallons of wine, all to avoid lying beside me in bed.