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Jude always hated when she had to speak to Cardan one on one. It was especially bad when she had to go to his chambers - it made Jude feel unsettled. The very walls breathed of his presence, his control of the land. It reminded Jude that he was no longer the prince she had forced upon the throne, instead he was the rightful King of the Faerie.
One who was increasingly slippery for her to control, no matter how many holes she tried to talk out of her commands. Soon, the time would be up and no matter how much Jude thought about it, she had no way of keeping her leash on Cardan. The ideas of how she would manage such a feat occupied her mind late at night, when all the work she had to do no longer sufficed as distractions.
The issue at hand however, and the reason Jude had to venture to Cardan’s private rooms, was that she needed his signature for this particular paper. One of the Unseelie Courts of the far north wanted confirmation that the new High King would not move against them. Jude could of course forge Cardan’s signature, but this specific Court had warned her against that - apparently they possessed the means to detect such a ruse.
The guards situated outside Cardan’s chambers simply nodded at Jude when she passed them. She had every right to go inside if she so wished, yet she still felt as though she was intruding. The air was slightly darker here; heavier somehow. It swirled around Jude as though aware of who she was and what she wanted. It smelled like Cardan’s ever present wine.
Along the walls crept vines of some sort, clinging heavily to every possible surface. Upon further inspection, they seemed to have small thorns. Everything in these rooms felt like him, because this place was his. His to personalize, to live in. It left Jude feeling deeply unsettled, much like its owner, who Jude went in search of.
Cardan was sitting in one of his chairs, one of his legs over the armrest. His face looked bare, devoid of any makeup. No jewelry adorned his ears or hands, only the crown remained on his head. It sat tilted at its usual angle in his black hair, looking unusually listless. Same was to say of the person beneath it; Cardan was staring into space, wine - probably from the bottle in his hand - darkening his lips and clouding his absent eyes. It was only when Jude realized he was alone she recognized he could not have been. She didn’t know what she would have done had she stumbled upon some sort of Faerie orgy.
“Jude,” Cardan sighed. He didn’t look up, rather he continued staring blankly into space.
“With what have you now come to disturb me with? I would have you know I would rather be left alone at the moment, lest you are here with something other than business. Though if I know you, and I would not claim that I do, I would guess you have not. You are rather predictable in that sense.”
Jude didn’t quite know what to make of this monologue. Cardan seemed to be in a rather… philosophical mood today. She wondered how much he had had to drink. She couldn’t spot any other bottles of wine than the one in his hand.
“I need you to sign this paper. Just write your signature and I can go.”
“Why not command me to do it?” Cardan asked lazily. Because I need you to trust me, not have this alliance, listen to me, just because you have to. Also, you get harder to work with when I do. Jude didn’t say any of this - he didn’t need to be told that Jude tried to manipulate him, again, for her own benefit.
“You know I will command you if I have to, it’s just easier this way.”
“It obviously is not. Had you commanded me, you would now be on your way out.”
“And whose fault is that?” Jude asked icily. Cardan ignored this, his eyes finally flicking up to Jude. They narrowed as he looked her over, leaving Jude feeling scrutinized.
“You’re lying. I can tell when you do, Jude. Your body tenses up, like it’s doing right now.”
Curse him for being observant. And curse him even more for puzzling this together, for putting his energy on Jude’s body language to be able to tell when she’s lying. That complicated so many things. Jude had never really needed to be a great liar; since the Fae could not lie at all they assumed everything said with conviction and without word games was true. Even so, Jude considered herself a pretty good liar, no one that didn’t know her well would be able to tell. Even people who did rarely picked up on the signs. She just never thought Cardan would fall into that category.
“No, I’m not.” Jude said, “Just sign the stupid paper.”
“Why could you feel the need for lying?” Cardan asked. Jude couldn’t help it, she tensed up even more under his scrutiny. The full force of Cardan’s attention was rarely on her, and it made her feel bare. She didn’t want to feel vulnerable, especially not in front of him. His dark, alert gaze felt like the thorns from the vines, pricking at her skin.
He stood then, he didn’t sway even the slightest in his step, only his tail moved in a languid manner. Jude took a small step back as he advanced, which he ignored completely. Cardan only seemed thoughtful as he tilted her face towards her with warm, dry hands. They looked strangely bare without his many rings, and their lack made his touch feel strangely intimate.
“Lie to me some more.” Cardan asked, “You always tell me the sweetest lies, my dearest undoing.” His eyes were dark and imploring, yet light with curiosity. A stark contrast to his earlier flat gaze. Jude felt bold - she put her hand on his shoulder. To anyone else it might have seemed like an embrace - a loving one at that. Her tone encouraged the illusion - sweet and intimate.
“And give you more tells to figure out when I lie? I do so for a reason, and I do not wish you to read me that well.”
Jude could not understand how they always ended up this way, looking more like lovers than people in a tentative alliance. Not even that, they simply had an arrangement which made Jude dependent on Cardan, and Cardan was forced into obedience. Neither of them wanted to work with the other. So why was it then that they were like magnets; when pushed together they were inexplicably drawn closer until too close, or stubbornly pushed each other away?
Cardan sighed and stepped away, Jude’s hand slipping from his shoulder, “I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I just left you be when we were younger. Would we be actual acquaintances or not know each other at all? I somehow doubt that, Jude, I was always,” he hesitated, “intrigued by you.”
Jude shrugged, careful with her words. She did not wish to lie again. Cardan smiled humorlessly, eyes still slightly sad, “I also wonder what would have happened had Balekin not killed our family. Would Dain have been a better King than I? Not that I do much. Look at this, Jude,” Cardan waved his hand and the vines crawling along the walls burst into bloom.
Roses filled the room, petals ranging in color from the deepest purple to lightest pink. They were beautiful in a way that only Faerie could be. Jude felt the deep set fascination with anything magical spring to life inside her. The roses were gorgeous to look at, but were she to pluck one, she was sure to get tiny thorns in her hand. They were actually much like Cardan in that sense.
“I have the magic of the High King, I can feel it, the land is responding to me.” In an instant, Jude felt cold panic drench her previous admiration of the roses. This was exactly what she was afraid of - Cardan didn’t actually need her. He would be High King whether she was there or not.
“Yet I control nothing of my land. It is all you. And somehow I cannot deny that this might have been the best possible outcome for this wretched place, you leading it from the shadows.”
Jude had no idea what to say. She was pretty sure that had been a compliment. Her previous panic subsided slightly. As long as Cardan didn’t realize he didn’t need her, she would be fine. “But most of all I wonder what would have happened, had I been killed as well. Would you have mourned me?” He looked into her eyes, ready to read any sign of a lie on her face.
Jude didn’t know what to answer. She had no idea. The idea of Cardan dead now struck her a bit in the heart, for she would have to figure out another plan. “No,” she decided. Cardan looked triumphant. “You’re lying.” He exclaimed.
“Cardan,” Jude sighed, she didn’t even know herself whether she was lying or not, “if you’re looking for signs that I’m lying then you’re going to see them.” He was still grinning. Jude narrowed her eyes, “Are you drunk? Or poisoned?”
His smile melted a bit off his face, “No I am not. I have been here, alone, for hours. This bottle was corked and it is the only one I have drunk from. Although you could always kiss me to check.”
He stepped forward again, crowding Jude’s space, filling it with the scent of oak and leather, “Does it make you uncomfortable that I tell you this clear headed? Would you rather blame it on intoxication? I only speak the truth, Jude, no matter how inebriated I am.”
“No, it does not.”
“You really should stop lying, Jude, when I’ve told you multiple times it does not work.”
“You just think everything I say is a lie, you’re expecting it.”
“Tell me something true, then.” Cardan challenged. Jude responded with the only thing she could think of, the familiar phrase slipping off her tongue before she could stop it. “I hate you.” Cardan graciously did not comment on the fact that this, too, was clearly a lie. Jude could hear it in her own voice without seeing her expression or body language. Her voice had betrayed her on the second word, catching a bit.
“Say it again, my sweet nemesis, my darling villain.”
Jude put her hand on his cheek, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb, “I hate you so much, Cardan.” He closed his eyes, leaning slightly into her hand. This was so very stupid, treading into very dangerous territory. He opened his eyes, desire shining clearly in them when they met Jude’s.
Those damned magnets again. They had definitely been pushed too close, for Jude found she could not help leaning up to kiss him. Cardan’s mouth was soft and nice and it was horrible because Jude wanted him. She kissed him in the room full of roses and her heart was sure to get pricked by a dozen thorns for this.
She stepped quickly away, before he had time to respond. Cardan looked slightly shocked, and the want in his eyes had increased tenfold. “I’m sorry,” Jude found herself saying, “It will not happen again.” His smile could have rivaled the sun, “Liar.”
“You’re not poisoned, if you were wondering.”
“Oh I definitely am, just not in the way you think.”
Jude didn’t know what to do with this statement, and instead turned to go. She still had the paper clutched in her hand, forgotten. As Jude walked out the door, she wondered how she had managed to have a long conversation with Cardan, kissed him and still not gotten her damned paper signed.
He had been right - it would have been easier to just command him to do it. And yet, it felt as though maybe, with Cardan being able to tell when she lied, he might trust her just a tiny bit more. It was a start, at least.