The Cruel Prince (The Folk of t -(The Folk of the Air #1) - Holly Black Page 0,111

glamoured by Oak. Over and over I’d slapped myself until my cheek was red and hot and sore. A bruise bloomed the next morning, a bruise that didn’t fade for a week. That’s what children do with power.

“What makes you think I can stop it?” I demand.

Oriana doesn’t release my hand. “You once said that I was wrong about you, that you would never hurt Oak. Tell me, can you do anything? Is there a chance?”

I’m not a monster, I’d told her, back when I said I would never hurt Oak. But maybe being a monster was my calling. “Maybe,” I tell her, which is no answer at all.

On my way out, I spot my little brother. He is out in the garden, picking a bouquet of foxgloves. He’s laughing, sunlight turning his brown hair gold. When his nurse comes toward him, he darts away from her.

I bet he doesn’t even know that those flowers are poison.

Laughter greets me when I return to the Court of Shadows. I am expecting to find Cardan as I left him, cowed and quiet, perhaps even more miserable than before. Instead, his hands have been untied, and he is at the table, playing cards with the Roach, the Ghost—and the Bomb. At the center are a pile of jewels and a jug of wine. Two empty bottles rest beneath the table, green glass catching the candlelight.

“Jude,” the Bomb calls happily. “Sit down! We’ll deal you in.”

I am relieved to see her, here and unscathed. But nothing else about this tableau is any good.

Cardan grins at me as though we’ve been great friends all our lives. I forgot how charming he can be—and how dangerous that is.

“What are you doing?” I burst out. “He’s supposed to be tied up! He’s our prisoner.”

“Worry not. Where’s he going to go?” the Roach asks. “You really think he can get past all three of us?”

“I don’t mind being one-handed,” Cardan interjects. “But if you’re going to restrain both of my hands, then you’ll have to pour the wine directly into my mouth.”

“He told us where the old king kept the really good bottles,” says the Bomb, pushing back her white hair. “Not to mention a stash of jewelry that belonged to Elowyn. He figured that in the confusion, no one would notice if it got lifted, and so far, no one has. Easiest job the Roach has ever done.”

I want to scream. They weren’t supposed to like him, but why wouldn’t they? He’s a prince who’s treating them with respect. He’s Dain’s brother. He’s Folk, like them.

“Everything is spiraling into chaos anyway,” says Cardan. “Might as well have some fun. Don’t you think, Jude?”

I take a deep breath. If he undermines my position here, if he manages to make me an outsider, then I am never going to get the Court of Shadows to go along with the plan that is still jumbled up in my head. I can’t seem to figure out how to help anyone. The last thing I need is him making everything worse.

“What did he offer you?” I ask, like we’re all in on the same joke. Yes, it’s a gamble. Maybe Cardan didn’t offer them anything at all.

I try not to seem like I’m holding my breath. I try not to show how small Cardan makes me feel.

The Ghost gives me one of his rare smiles. “Mostly gold, but also power. Position.”

“A lot of things he hasn’t got,” said the Bomb.

“I thought we were friends,” Cardan says halfheartedly.

“I’m going to take him in the back,” I say, putting my hand on the top of the chair in a proprietary fashion. I need to get him out of the room before he gets the better of me in front of them. I need to get him away now.

“And do what?” asks the Roach.

“He’s my prisoner,” I remind them, squatting down and slicing through the strips of my dress still tying his legs to the chair. I realize he must have slept this way, sitting upright, if he slept at all. But he doesn’t look tired. He smiles down at me, as if the reason I’m on my knees is because I am curtsying.

I want to wipe that smile off his face, but maybe I can’t. Maybe he’ll go on smiling that way to his grave.

“Can’t we stay out here?” Cardan asks me. “There’s wine out here.”

That makes the Roach snicker. “Something bothering you, princeling? You and Jude don’t get along after all?”

Cardan’s expression shifts

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