The Cruel Prince (The Folk of t -(The Folk of the Air #1) - Holly Black Page 0,135

to the dining table by a crossbow bolt. One that appears to be iron.

“Cardan,” Balekin calls. “I know you. I know that you’d prefer I did the difficult work of ruling while you enjoyed the power. I know that you despise mortals and ruffians and fools. Come, I have not always danced to your piping, but you haven’t the stomach to truly cross me. Bring me the crown.”

I gather Oak close to me and put the crown into his hands, so that he can see it. So that he can get used to holding it. Vivi pats him encouragingly on his back.

“Bring me the crown, Cardan,” Balekin says.

Prince Cardan turns on his elder brother the same cool and calculated gaze with which he has regarded so many other creatures before he’s torn the wings from their back, before he’s cast them into rivers or sent them from the Court entirely. “No, brother. I do not think that I will. I think that if I did not have another reason to cross you, I would do it for spite.”

Oak looks up at me, searching for confirmation that he’s doing okay in the face of all this shouting. I nod with an encouraging smile.

“Show Oak,” I whisper to Cardan. “Show him what he’s supposed to do. Kneel down.”

“They’re going to think—” he starts, but I interrupt him.

“Just do it.”

Cardan kneels, and a hush goes through the crowd. Swords are returned to sheaths. Movements slow.

“Oh, this is amusing,” says Lord Roiben in a low voice. “Who might that child be? Or whose?” He and Queen Annet share a very Unseelie smile.

“See?” Cardan says to Oak, and then makes an impatient gesture. “Now the crown.”

I look around at the lords and ladies of Faerie. Not one of their faces is friendly. All of them appear wary, waiting. Balekin’s expression is wild with fury, and he pulls against the bolt, as though he might rip his hand in half before he allowed this to happen. Oak takes a hesitant step toward Cardan, then another.

“Phase four,” Cardan whispers to me, still believing we’re on the same side.

I think of Madoc, dozing away upstairs, all his dreams of murder. I think of Oriana and Oak being forced apart for years. I think of Cardan and how he will hate me. I think of what it means to make myself the villain of the piece. “For the next full minute, I command you not to move,” I whisper back.

Cardan goes utterly still.

“Go ahead,” Vivi says to Oak. “Just like we practiced.”

And with that, Oak puts the crown down on Cardan’s head, to rest on his brow. “I crown you.” Oak’s little-kid voice is uncertain. “King. High King of Faerie.” His eyes go to Vivi, to Oriana. He’s waiting for one of them to tell him he did well, that he is done.

People gasp. Balekin gives a howl of fury. There is laughter and outrage and delight. Everyone likes a surprise, and the Folk like one more than almost anything else.

Cardan looks at me with helpless rage. Then, the full minute of my command up, he rises slowly to his feet. The fury in his eyes is familiar, the glitter of them like banked fire, like coals burning hotter than flames ever could. This time I deserve it. I promised he was going to be able to walk away from the Court and all its manipulations. I promised he would be free from all this. I lied.

It’s not that I don’t want Oak to be the High King. I do. He will be. But there’s only one way to make sure the throne remains ready for him while he learns everything he needs to know—and that’s if someone else occupies it. Seven years and Cardan can step down, abdicate in Oak’s favor and do whatever he wants. But until then, he’s going to have to keep my brother’s throne warm.

Lord Roiben sinks to one knee, as he promised. “My king,” he says. I wonder what that promise will cost. I wonder what he will ask us for, now that he has helped give Cardan a crown.

And then the cry goes up around the room, from Queen Annet to Queen Orlagh and Lord Severin. From the other side, Taryn stares at me, clearly shocked. To her, I must seem mad, to put someone I despise on the throne, but there is no way for me to explain myself. I sink to my knees along with everyone else, and so does