daily judecardan

“Jude never loved Locke. She loved someone else. He’s the one she’d want dead.” I am pleased to see Cardan flinch.

“Kiss me again,” he says, drunk and foolish. “Kiss me until I am sick of it.”

Jude, Since I cannot imagine there is much in the human lands to interest you, I can only suppose your continued absence in Elfhame is due to me. I urge you: Come be angry at nearer distance. Cardan.

I am the 𝑄𝑢𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝐸𝑙𝑓ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒. Even though I am the queen in exile, I am still the queen. And that means Madoc isn’t just trying to take Cardan’s throne. He’s trying to take mine.

“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.”

We won. Everything was going to work out. And he loved me.

What I want to do is hide under a table in the brugh with Cardan until I can finally convince myself he’s all right. And maybe make out with his face, if he’s feeling up to that.

Oak gave up his room so they could sleep there, and although the bed is small, Cardan cannot mind when he takes Jude in his arms.

To the High Queen of Elfhame, Above me is the same silvery moon that shines down on you. Looking at it makes me recall the glint of your blade pressed against my throat and other romantic moments. Cardan.

It occurs to me that maybe desire isn’t something overindulging helps. Maybe it is not unlike mithridatism; maybe I took a killing dose when I should have been poisoning myself slowly, one kiss at a time.

“I have heard that for mortals, the feeling of falling in love is very like the feeling of fear. Your heart beats fast. Your senses are heightened. You grow light-headed, maybe even dizzy.”

I hate him so much that sometimes when I look at him, I can hardly breathe.

I’m in @hollyblack heaven ✨

GUESS WHAT HAS FINALLY ARRIVED

I let go of him and remain standing. I promised myself I would do this, if I ever had the chance again. I promised I would do this the first moment I could. “I love you,” I say, the words coming out in an unintelligible rush.

But every night, Jude haunted him. The coils of her hair. The calluses on her fingers. An absent bite of her lip. It was too much, the way he thought her. He knew it was too much, but he couldn’t stop. It disgusted him that he couldn’t stop.

You have always known exactly what I am and seen all my failings, all my weaknesses and scars. I flattered myself that at moments you had feelings for me other than contempt, but even were that true, they would make but a thin gruel beside the feast of your other greater desires.