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The Wicked King

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Holly Black
Holly Black

Holly Black, born on November 10, 1971, is a renowned fantasy fiction writer from the United States. Her works are known for their unique imagination and profound emotional depth, which have won her a large fan base. more

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“I have thought and thought since you were gone, and there is something I wish to say.' Cardan's face is serious, almost grave, in a way that he seldom allows himself to be. 'When my father sent me away, at first I tried to prove that I was nothing like he thought me. But when that didn't work, I tried to be exactly what he believed I was instead. If he thought I was bad, I would be worse. If he thought I was cruel, I would be horrifying. I would live down to his every expectation. If I couldn't have his favour, then I would have his wrath. 'Balekin did not know what to do with me. He made me attend his debauches, made me serve wine and food to show off his tame little prince. When I grew older and more ill-tempered, he grew to like having someone to discipline. His disappointments were my lashing, his insecurities my flaws. And yet, he was the first person who saw something in me he liked- himself. He encouraged all my cruelty, inflamed all my rage. And I got worse. 'I wasn't kind, Jude. Not to many people. Not to you. I wasn't sure if I wanted you or if I wanted you gone from my sight so that I would stop feeling as I did, which made me even more unkind. But when you were gone- truly gone beneath the waves- I hated myself as I never have before.' I am so surprised by his words that I keep trying to find the trick in them. He can't truly mean what he's saying. 'Perhaps I am foolish, but I am not a fool. You like something about me,' he says, mischief lighting his face, making its planes more familiar. 'The challenge? My pretty eyes? No matter, because there is more you do not like and I know it. I can't trust you. Still, when you were gone I had to make a great many decisions, and so much of what I did right was imagining you beside me, Jude, giving me a bunch of ridiculous orders I nonetheless obeyed.' I am robbed of speech. He laughs, his warm hand going to my shoulder. 'Either I've surprised you or you are as ill as Madoc claimed.”

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“The Roach clasps his hand on the back of my neck with a laugh. 'You did good, kid, you know that? You came out of the sea even tougher than you went in.' I have to look down because I am surprised by how much I wanted to hear someone say that. When I glance back up, Cardan is watching me carefully. He looks stricken. I shake my head, to keep him from saying whatever he's thinking.”

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“His raven's-wing hair falls over one eye. 'So, are we at war?' For a moment, I think he is talking about us. 'No,' I say. 'At least not until the next full moon.' 'You can't fight the sea,' Locke says philosophically. Cardan gives a little laugh. 'You can fight anything. Winning, though, that's something else again.”

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“I follow him behind the throne and off the dais, where a small door is set against the stone wall, half hidden by ivy. I've never been here before. Cardan sweeps aside the ivy, and we go in. It is a small room, clearly intended for intimate meetings and assignations. Its walls are covered in moss, with small glowing mushrooms climbing them, casting a pale white light on us. There's a low couch upon which people could sit or recline, as the situation called for. We are alone in a way we have not been alone for a long time, and when he takes a step toward me, my heart skips a beat.”

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“You shouldn't be alone,' I say, because if the Undersea is going to strike, then we must not give it any easy targets. 'Not tonight.' Cardan grins. 'I hadn't planned on it.' The offhand implication that he's not alone most nights bothers me, and I hate that it does. 'Good,' I say, swallowing that feeling, though it feels like swallowing bile. 'But if you're planning on taking someone to bed- or better yet, several someones- choose guards. And then have yourselves guarded by more guards.' 'A veritable orgy.' He seems delighted by the idea.”

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“You could still be lying,' says the Roach. He turns to Cardan. 'Try her.' 'Your pardon?' Cardan says, drawing himself up, and the Roach seems to suddenly remember whom he's speaking in such an off-handed way. 'Don't be such a prickly rose, Your Majesty,' the Roach says with a shrug and a grin. 'I'm not giving you an order. I'm suggesting that if you tried to glamour Jude, we could find out the truth.' Cardan sighs and walks toward me. I know this is necessary. I know that he doesn't intend to hurt me. I know he can't glamour me. And yet I draw back automatically. 'Jude?' he asks. 'Go ahead,' I say. I hear the glamour enter his voice, heady and seductive and more powerful than I expected. 'Crawl to me,' he says with a grin. Embarrassment pinks my cheeks. I stay where I am, looking at all their faces. 'Satisfied?' The Bomb nods. 'You're not charmed.”

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